Sixteen: Turn The Tables
"A zombie?"
"Yeah," Emil nodded. "Don't get me wrong, you still look handsome as you always do. But just a tad bit more tired than usual."
"I didn't get enough sleep," Atlas muttered as they walked into the employees room. Atlas opened his locker, taking out his chef jacket.
"Why not?" Emil asked. Atlas sighed as he shook his head, clearly not interested in answering his boss's question.
"Doesn't matter. I'm fine. Can I get to work now if you're done?" Atlas sounded snippy, making Emil frown but he nodded regardless.
Atlas was guarded, which Emil didn't mind too much since they hadn't known each other for very long anyway. So it wasn't like Emil was expecting him to open up and spill everything about his life. But still, Emil wanted to get to know more about Atlas, which was proving to be harder than he had thought.
Yesterday had been so much fun. Emil didn't want to raise his hopes too much, so he was genuinely surprised when Atlas agreed to go out with him. He was glad that the chef seemed to enjoy the escape room and the food at the diner, and just seeing him be so focused and excited when they were solving all the puzzles had Emil's heart fluttering the entire time.
He spent most of the day staring at Atlas as he worked out the games, which the blue-haired man didn't even seem to notice as he was so into what he was doing. Emil was making mental notes of everything. From how Atlas would chew lightly on his bottom lip when he was trying to figure something out, to how his eyes would light up whenever he got a puzzle right.
This had made one thing very clear— Emil was never going to get tired of looking at Atlas.
He was enchanted.
He knew it. And he liked it.
Emil didn't follow Atlas into the kitchen, considering it best to give the man some space first as he didn't look too ecstatic at the moment. He went to see the manager, Shawn, instead, to let him know that they'd be hiring a new sous chef. With Atlas now working lesser shifts, they needed someone new to pick up the slack. Shawn thought that it was a good idea too, and immediately got to work.
After an hour or so, Emil decided to check up on Atlas. The head chef was making a broth, looking as engrossed as ever as he concentrated completely on his dish. It was like watching an artist make a masterpiece, and once again, Emil could just stare at him forever.
Which was why, Emil was taken aback that when Atlas got a call, he immediately wiped his hands on his aprons and asked Denise to watch over the broth instead. Atlas never did that. He rarely ever touched his phone at work, so it must've been something, or someone, important.
"Damian?" Atlas spoke as he picked up the call. He was already on his way to the backdoor so that nobody could disturb him. "Hey. Is everything oka—"
That was all Emil heard before Atlas was out of sight. Emil furrowed his brows in confusion, wondering who the fuck this Damian guy was. He had never heard the name from Atlas before, though to be fair he didn't know much about his personal life.
But for Atlas to leave his food and entrust someone else to watch over it... whoever this Damian was, it sure seemed like Atlas cared a lot about him.
Emil was self-aware enough to know that he was jealous. He also knew that he had no right to be. He was a possessive man, but Atlas didn't owe him anything. It still caused Emil to worry, though. Was Atlas not interested in going out with him because he had someone else in his life?
No. If that were the case, Atlas would've told him head-on. He wasn't the type to beat around the bush.
Emil waited eagerly at his spot till Atlas was back. His chest felt tight when he saw the chef return with a soft smile on his face. It was very unusual for Atlas to look this happy. It was as if Emil's legs had a mind of their own as he walked towards the man, trying to act casual though his heartbeat was faster than normal.
"So," the crime cleared his throat, "taking calls in the middle of work now?"
Emil hated how jealous and desperate he sounded. But he just couldn't help it.
"Huh," Atlas blinked, unaware of how tense Emil felt. "Sorry about that. It was my brother and I couldn't ignore it."
"Oh," Emil bit the inside of his cheek as he cursed himself internally. It was his goddamn brother and the gangster was getting worked up over nothing. "No worries! Of course, family is important. I understand. I was just, uh, I was just teasing you."
"Right," Atlas muttered as he grabbed the onions he had to chop. "Denise isn't checking the produce properly. I need to have a talk with her and Stefan."
"Maybe we should just change our supplier," Emil huffed, making Atlas roll his eyes.
"Our supplier is good. You're just saying that because you don't like Stefan," Atlas replied.
"I don't have anything against the guy. I just don't like the way he looks at you. As if you're a piece of meat that he wants to devour," Emil retorted. Atlas paused what he was doing as he looked up at the crime boss.
"Yeah? Isn't that how you look at me too?" Atlas raised a brow.
"No," Emil stated. "I look at you with adoration, not lust. There's a difference."
"If you say so," Atlas mumbled, removing his gaze from Emil, though the light pink tinge of his cheeks spoke enough for him.
Emil smirked as he stepped closer to the chef, standing behind him as he leaned forward to whisper in his ear.
"Don't get me wrong. If I get the chance, I won't hesitate to ravage you till you're screaming my name." Emil's voice was low and deep, and he could see the little hairs at the back of Atlas's neck stand up in attention. "But until that moment comes, if ever, I'm content with just being in your presence, mi corazón."
~~~
Atlas was speechless. Even after Emil moved away and left to go to the manager's office, his voice and words stayed with the chef. He could hear them ringing in his head, playing like a song on repeat. He had felt his entire body go numb, just a sharp chill in his spine as Emil whispered in his ear. The depth of his voice... the intensity of his confidence... it was all too much.
And the worst part was, Atlas now had a boner at work.
This wasn't fair. The universe was definitely playing a prank on him by sending a man so goddamn hot and attractive, whose attention was solely on Atlas. It was all too good to be true, and Atlas couldn't help the voice at the back of his mind that kept nagging at him. Telling him that the moment Emil got what he wanted, he would just leave.
That's what they all do, isn't it?
But he seemed so sincere. Maybe this time it would be different... No. Atlas would be a fool to think so. Moreover, once again, Emil was a bloody criminal. This obviously meant that his morals were on the grayer side. So how could Atlas put his trust in him?
Though Atlas sure as hell wanted Emil to put something else in him—
Are. You. Crazy!? Atlas yelled at himself.
Atlas found it hard to work for the rest of the day, no pun intended. Every time Emil entered the room, Atlas felt eyes on him. His gaze was different this time. It wasn't the usual puppy dog look that the crime boss gave him, but something so much more fierce and passionate.
Almost as if he was undressing Atlas with his eyes.
Atlas had never been more glad for his shift to be over. Everyone but the cleaning staff had left by that hour, leaving Atlas all alone in the backside of the restaurant. He went to the employee's room again to change, only for Emil to be waiting there for him, right beside his locker.
"Here," Emil said, bringing a paper bag forward.
"What is this?" Atlas asked, confused.
"That asshole dropped coffee on your clothes this morning. I didn't know whether you had an extra shirt and I highly doubt you want to go back home in your chef's jacket," Emil shrugged.
"So you got this for me?" Atlas blinked. Emil nodded in response.
"I didn't know your size, so I hope it fits."
"When did you even go shopping?"
"When you were busy with dinner service," Emil answered.
Atlas was once again shook by the gesture. It was something so incredibly sweet and thoughtful, yet something that never would've crossed Atlas's mind.
Atlas said nothing as he began unbuttoning his chef's coat, his eyes staring into Emil with a matching fervor. Emil gulped as Atlas removed his undershirt after the coat, his upper body now completely bare.
Atlas stepped towards the other man, his gaze still not leaving Emil's as he walked closer and closer until they were merely inches away. Atlas kept his hand on top of Emil's, making the crime boss part his lips. Atlas could tell by his expression that he was breathing heavily, but on the contrary, the chef was entirely calm.
Atlas ran his fingers down Emil's forearm, then dipped his hand inside the bag to take the shirt out. Emil watched, stunned, as Atlas took two steps back so that there was enough space for him to put it on. Once he did, Atlas walked closer to Emil again.
Atlas kept his palm on Emil's face, leaning forward. With their lips barely centimetres apart, Atlas tilted his face, bringing his mouth to Emil's ear instead.
"Consider this as my thank you," Atlas whispered, before kissing Emil's cheek. His lips grazed the skin, staying there a couple of seconds longer than any usual, platonic kiss would. Atlas then stepped back, turned around, and walked out of the room.
Emil stood there. Frozen. His hand was on the cheek that Atlas had just kissed, as he stared at the door.
This was it.
Emil was a goner.
He knew it. And he loved it.
***