A/N
Wow. Talk about a disappearance. So sorry everyone. Things have been pretty busy and rough over the last three months, and, to top it off, ff . net had apparently stopped sending to my email the review alerts all together, grrrrr. I hope things will clear out in the next few weeks so I can finally enjoy my life again. Nonetheless, I have read all of your comments, and enjoyed all the crits and comments as well as faves I've been receiving! Thank you! Now, enjoy the third entry to my RANDOM GENERATOR challenge.
Episode C: Must be Crispy
Summary: Who knew that something as simple as a Chinese dessert cookie could fester in Roxas so much anger, irritation, and confusion, and yet, at the end of the night, bring him such fortune?
Genre: Romance/Humor
Rating: T
Words: 5867
"I'm sorry, your fortune cookie is what?"
The blond server stared blankly at the gnawed dessert in the customer's open palm. It had been split down the pinched middle, one of the pieces nibbled. He'd scene this scene far too many times—three weeks worth of digging out fortune cookies, being called over not three minutes later to be told that the fortune cookies weren't up to par.
The fortune cookies. Weren't. Up. To par.
"It's not crisp enough." The man said with a casual shrug. His lips pursed, either sucking the remnants of the cookie out from between his molars, or stifling a mocking outburst of laughter that Roxas was so sure was bubbling inside this asshole's lungs.
"Sir, I'm deeply sorry for the…inconsistencies of our fortune cookies," the young waiter grit, feeling the base of his neck heat up in displeasure, "but this is already the fifth one I've given you, and I've even gone through the hassle of completely opening up another bag, for your satisfaction." Roxas explained monotonously, stamping down the need to gouge this man's green eyes out with his ballpoint pen.
"Well then, my satisfaction just isn't satisfied right now," the customer leered, flipping his hand and dropping the remains of his unfinished fortune cookie onto the dirtied china. The cookie halves clattered on the stained plates, smearing against the remnants of pork and bits of tofu, making themselves at home with the other pieces of cookie that this man had declared inedible, "and surely, you understand that I'd be just devastated without a nice fortune cookie to complete my dinner, yes?"
"Can I interest you in our finer sweets, sir?" Roxas said, with as little annoyance in his voice as he could, "we're known to have the best red and green-bean desserts in Twilight Town, as well as our black sesame mochi, and our almond cookies surpass the, well, North American "Chinese fortune cookies" by far—"
The boy was interrupted by the man waving his hand arrogantly, dismissively, "I've heard a lot of things, but really, all I want is a fortune cookie, a nice, crisp, fortune cookie with good statement and some digits, like all the other times, is that too hard?" The lanky man swiveled his gaze up into stormy blues, "really, with this restaurant's exquisite reputation of good service and amazing food, you'd figure that one good fortune cookie wouldn't be too much to ask for."
Blue eyes fell shut for three, four, five seconds, letting Roxas get his self-control, or what was left of it anyway, back intact. "Alright, sir," he forced out from between his grinding teeth, "I'll see if there's something I can do," he paused, stared angrily into those goddamn green eyes, and tact on bitterly, "again."
Not waiting for a reply, the boy spun on the spot, completely forgetting to clean up the rest of the man's finished dishes and check up on the rest of his tables and made a bee-line for the kitchen. He shoved his way through the other servers, his irate state of mind slowly creeping to its threshold. He growled, spat, and hissed as he weaved through the hot kitchen, all the fine aroma of stir-fried noodles and cooking fillets of sea bass that had enticed the young student to work here in the first place, being tossed out by his growing annoyance with customer service. Without a care, he threw his tray onto one of the silver counters, ignoring the way it clattered on the worn surface.
"Is that the sound of a disgruntled blond I hear again?" Demyx chirped, busying his hands with the preparation of a vegetable-shrimp dish. "That's the sixth time you've slammed the tray today, Roxy! That's a new record!"
"It's the same guy!" Roxas exclaimed, waving his hands around as he sputtered, almost knocking a high stack of washed plates from the stiff hands of a worker making his way behind the pissed-off worker, earning a loud cuss in Cantonese.
"what's his goddamn problem? He's always sitting in my section and making an ass out of me!"
"Are we talking about the same guy that you thought was, and I quote, "hotter than Xigbar's spicy braised eggplant and pork" the first time you saw him?" Demyx asked with a pursed grin, placing a handful of the Chinese green beans onto the small scale beside him, missing the frown that formed on the boy's face, "weren't you the one who asked Kairi if you could switch tables for a while so you could wait him and get all hot and bothered over his manly voice?"
Roxas groaned, sucking on the inside of his mouth. Yes, Roxas had indeed had more than intimate daydreams about this redheaded stranger who had so suddenly strolled into the restaurant about two weeks after his first day working. He was alluring, mysterious, with those almond shaped eyes, intriguing diamond shaped tattoos right below, and the physics-defying hair that begged to be touched. And yet, it was an absolute shame how this man had the personality of a Tasmanian Devil. "Bug off! Yeah, sure, he's attractive, but fuck, I didn't think he'd be such an asshole! I mean, he didn't even seem that bad that day, but wow, after the first few days he just keeps coming back and acting like such a jerk." He growled, "and he always asks for me! Can't he go back and sit in Kairi's section or something!?"
The sandy blond chuckled, "looks like you hooked yourself a winner, am I right, Roxy?"
"God, the guy has such a knack for pissing someone off, especially when it comes to goddamn eating those fucking fortune cookies after every meal!" He kicked the base of the counter, earning himself a collective growl from the rest of the chefs, "he knows those things are free and are no better than those shitty washroom mints, so why is he making such a big deal about it! 'Oh it's too hard, oh, this tastes a week old, it's not crisp enough!'—GOD!"
With clenched hands, he twisted his fingers into his hairs, tugging, "Like, does he have a sick fetish for fortune cookies, or, or a penchant for annoying blond kids with an apparent temper the length of a spring roll?"
"I'd say less than that."
"Oh shut up!" Roxas fumed, crossing his arms and leaning back against the kitchen counter. He had already forgotten what he had come back here for. "It's not that short."
"That's what he said last night."
Roxas fixed the joking blond chef with a look that meant imminent death, causing the Mohawked man to squeak, throw all the ingredients he had fumbled with into the bowls beside him, and scurry off to the nearest saucier.
The boy sighed, dragging his black shoes towards the pitchers of water and pulling out a glass from the shelves beneath. He didn't even manage to pour himself half a glass before a blue-headed server, Zexion, scurried towards him through the chaos of the busy kitchen and announced, "Roxas, your table nineteen is asking for another glass of water and another cola! And the guy from table twenty-one asking for you!"
"What?" Roxas seethed, almost dropping the glass in his hand, "I haven't even been out of his sight for three minutes and he's going ape-shit already?!"
Zexion shrugged casually, fiddling with the cuffs of his red dress shirt, edging closer to his coworker, letting a short Chinese girl by with three full plates on her tray. The short host had already gotten used to Roxas's tantrums whenever eight o'clock came around, watching the older teen switch from a polite worker to a ferocious storm when the well-known redhead came in and asked for a seat 'where the short blond guy works'. It's been a routine, he noticed, since two weeks after the newest worker was employed.
"He's just asking for his dessert," he explained calmly.
"I already gave him five of those fucking cookies, each and every one he tore apart, took a bite, and threw it away," he hissed, hands fisting and uncurling with every word, "be a pal, can't you persuade Larxene to put together another dish of mango pudding and shut that guy up? He's been on my case since—well—ever since he started eating here regularly!"
The man just gave another shrug, effecting indifference, "sorry Rox, this is your battleground, per usual, and you know what Larxene would do if we asked her to make something that's not on the order list," the older male paused, cringed, and shuddered slightly at the recollection, "besides, he's always dining by himself—he can't be that hard to handle."
He groaned "but she's the only one who could make that pudding properly. And the reason why he's eating alone all the time is because he's a prick to society and no body likes him."
"Sorry Roxas," the more experienced worker just grinned, soothingly patting the exhausted blond on the back, his soft, unrushed voice almost drowned out by the blunt shouts of the chefs, "if this is beyond your scope of attack, go talk to Reno or something. Maybe he'll sort things out between you and that redhead guy." He tugged at his black and red vest, brushing off his black uniform pants before making his way towards the gathering of prepared and waiting dishes, calling out behind him "remember, water, cola, table nineteen!"
"Yeah, yeah," the blond sighed, raking a hand through his unruly hair, "and I did tell him. Ten times already. As if he'd do anything." Roxas mumbled, stubbing the toe of his black shoes into the dirty kitchen floor.
"As if who'd do anything?"
The blond squeaked, jittered, and turned to face the tall male who had stalked up close. "Reno!—I mean, boss." He coughed, and bit his lip, "um, sorry, I was just, uh, getting back to work—"
"More like you were complaining again." Reno chided, a smirk forming over his angular features, high, tattooed cheekbones rising with the uplifted corners of his lips. "And I told you to just refer to me as 'Reno'. 'Boss' makes me feel old, and I'm only twenty-four, boy."
Roxas glared, mumbling something along the lines of 'don't call me boy' before explaining the entire situation to him as quickly as possible.
"—And he keeps coming back, and frikkin' harassing me about how the cookies are too soft, or too hard, or not sweet enough, or how one of his fortune notes didn't have the damn lottery numbers on the back!" Roxas clawed both hands through his yellow curls, eyes wide and staring at the maroon tiled floor as he regaled his problem. His chest heaved, but he had found relief in spilling his sob story on his manager, who took in his words with a lazy, relaxed expression. Then the anger bubbled up again as he noticed the carefree expression on the redhead's face. "You just take pleasure listening but not really caring about my problems, don't you? You're as bad as he is, and you look almost identical to the prick, you know." Roxas shot furiously, completely disregarding that he had just insulted his manager. It was a good thing he was on good terms with this guy, who was casual with every aspect of his life…that being a good thing, Roxas wasn't sure.
"Oh come now, Roxas, a guy who looks as good as me can't be all that bad, can he?" Reno teased, puffing out his chest as an emphasis.
Roxas snorted, turned to stare at the chefs running around in the background. "This guy's worse than you, really, though I sometimes wonder."
Reno ruffled the boy's yellow hair, "y'know with all your smart talk, you should be glad I'm friends with your brother, or else I'd have to kick you out for insulting the best looking guy working in the restaurant." The blond scoffed, knocking the offending hand off his head.
"I can't really knock him, though, Rox. He's a valued customer to me."
Roxas glared, "don't you mean 'to this restaurant'? Besides, no one, no matter how 'valued' you claim him to be, has the right to harass employees like this."
He reached up with a hand, mussing up the younger male's hair yet again and added, before the boy could retaliate, "just give him another dish more, Roxas, then see what happens. If he complains again, call me, and we'll sort it all out, alright?" He suggested, waving the boy off, leaving the kitchen to tend to the commotion near the front desk.
"Right," Roxas mumbled with a slump of his shoulders. He pushed away from the counter, weaved his way around towards the storage room, and crouched to reach into the newly-ripped bag of individually wrapped fortune cookies. He mumbled something incoherent, randomly taking out three, and made his way out into the large, crowded kitchen again. Reaching up into the wide shelves, stacked high with various-sized plates, he took down a small saucer, dumped the cookies on its glossy surface and placed the dish onto his discarded tray and strolled his way out towards the bar area of the restaurant. Ignoring the bar tender, he helped himself to some of the clean glasses. He poured a glass of water and drew another, this time with cola, from the fountains. With all the orders done up, he sucked in a breath, and timidly walked towards the doom of table twenty-one to deposit the cookies first. The golden glow of the busy restaurant seemed to dim out when he approached the first table, and Roxas felt sick, still wondering just how someone this attractive could be so…so…rude! It was as if this was all some sort of sick joke, just inching towards the threshold of insanity.
The hand that wasn't holding up the brown plastic tray was gripped in a fist. Sapphire blue orbs stared down the redhead situated at table twenty-one as the boy stomped his way towards his table.
He practically threw down the plate onto the white table cloth, causing one of the cookies bouncing up and out of the dish and onto the table. He grumbled an empty 'enjoy' as he turned to make his way towards his other table.
"Just a sec, you."
Roxas was sure that nervous tick in the corner of his eye wasn't healthy. He halted mid step, took a deep breath, and turned around to face the owner of that husky voice.
"…Yes?"
"That was rather rude of you," the green-eyed man claimed, "I demand an apology." The tall redhead, seated in the red cushioned seat, leaned back against his chair, a sly smirk spreading across his features.
Something inside Roxas was wearing thin, as if a group of tiny little people were chiseling at his chest, making it hard to breathe and think properly. "Sorry."
Before he could jet off in the other direction, a hand shot out, ensnared the blond's wrist, and pulled back. The boy yelped, almost dropping the tray of drinks balancing on his left hand. There was a flicker of red hot anger in those blue eyes.
"For someone working with customer service, you certainly are a little bitch." The man's low, chuckling voice said with ease.
Roxas twisted out of the customer's hold, and leaned in close, hissing low, "I don't know what your problem is. Of the time I've been working here, you've been the worst customer I've encountered," blue irises held onto the greens, staring him down with imaginary daggers, "the first cookie, you claimed tasted like chow mein, the second and third, stale, the forth, lacked the apparently obligatory fortune slip, and the fifth, you said wasn't crisp enough." He clicked his tongue, stifled the curse that threatened to leave his mouth, "what's next, your fortune didn't come true? If you want good cookies, go down to the corner store and buy yourself a bag. In fact, I'd even give you the money to buy it. You're wearing at my patience, Mr. I'm-all-high-and-mighty." Somewhat relieved to get that little speech off his chest, he attempted once again to walk away from the lone diner.
The slender features of the man grew into a wider grin, behind the boy's back, "don't expect a good tip from me, blondie."
Oh, now that was off limits. No one, no one was allowed to call him 'blondie'.
Body working on autopilot on the anger that had risen to its absolute limit, Roxas turned back around, a malicious smile now in place of his thinned lips. Expression hard, he walked up to the redhead, cocked his head, reached up onto his tray, and the next thing he knew, the entire restaurant and gone completely silent and the few hundred pairs of eyes had twisted around to stare at the frazzled yellow-headed boy holding a now empty glass over a dripping wet customer, red hair soaked in brown, bubbly cola.
There was a pregnant pause, a gasp and a giggle or two, and Roxas just turned around, silent, abandoning the remaining glass of water on the tray on the table, and returned his way back into the kitchen.
Before he could contemplate his escape, three of his co-servers came running into the back, screaming 'Geez! Roxas!' and 'What the fuck was that!?' and so prompt the rest of the kitchen to set up in an uproar of 'what happened?' in both English and Cantonese, eliciting even a 'Gao mutt gwai ah, gum cho!*' from the most silent of the workers. When the volume was sufficient, it pulled out the manager, dragging from his seat of the restaurant office, and wondered in a slow drawl 'okay, okay, shut up, all of you, and someone who isn't screaming, tell me what happened, ya?'
And so, Kairi was selected by the big boss, pulled out from the group, and asked to tell the tale. Reno's hand held onto Roxas, to stop him from trying to sneak out the back door, as he listened intently to the situation. When all the bits were out in the open, Reno dismissed the whole lot of them back out into the dining area, and turned, watched the blond boy wriggle in his grip, and hissed beside his ear 'I'll deal with you later.' This sent a sharp shudder running down the blond's spine.
"Reno, I—" the restaurant's manager released the blond boy, and sent him straight to his office without hesitation, like a parent sentencing their misbehaving child to a week of moping in their room.
Defeated, Roxas nodded, and carried his exhausted body out of the heat of the kitchen, down the small corridor and into Reno's office. Once there, he shut the door behind him, ran a hand viciously through his hair, thinking of all the possible shit that could become of him now. The least that could happen was him getting fired, which was inevitable, he was sure, and the worst that could happen was Reno could phone up parents, announce his dismissal from the restaurant, then blacklist him and his folks from the restaurant forever, but not after pummeling him with that rumored electromagnetic security rod he has stashed away somewhere in his office.
He flopped down on the seat against the wall, awaiting the inevitable 'you're fired!' from his boss. What would he do then? It had taken him forever to get a job, and with his lack of experience, it would remain just as difficult to find a replacement part-time career, which would suck because the power of college and book fees from his last term had already dug a hole in his savings.
Roxas took a glance at the red and white pendulum wall clock hanging on the wall adjacent to him. Five to nine, five minutes to last-call, and Roxas couldn't hold out for that smidge of time, and ended up harassing a customer, who was apparently a valued regular to Reno. And all he wanted was a fortune cookie.
Clawing at his face, he sank lower into the cushioned seat, torso practically melting and sliding the way down the length of the chair.
"I'm so screwed—"
"You got that right."
At the same moment of utterance, the door to the office opened up, and two redheaded males stepped in. Axel's face had been dried, but his shirt still appeared moist.
Roxas took one glance at the red-haired result of his anger, and turned away in shame, but not without the same festering annoyance.
The door shut closed, and Reno made his way around the dimly lit office to his mahogany desk, settling down in his swivel chair and fixing the blond perpetrator with a blank stare. "Come here."
The blond shot up from his seat, ignoring the still wet male standing beside the door and walked over to his boss's bureau. There was a long drag where neither of them spoke, Roxas busying himself with shuffling on his feet, and Reno staring straight up into the pairs of blue eyes with an unreadable look. Was he angry? Amused? Indifferent?? The student got more and more fidgety with every tick and tock from the clock behind him.
"He got on my nerves!" The short male suddenly blurted out, managing to drop a huge rock into that silent pond, "he—he was practically harassing me about the littlest things! The last time I waited him, I had to replace his tea three times because he didn't like it!"
"So what was the problem this time, Roxas?"
Roxas twisted his head, glaring heatedly at the smirking customer behind him. "He said the fortune cookie wasn't crisp enough. I had already replaced it like, five times, like I told you, and tried to offer him another dessert b-but he's so stubborn and wouldn't take my offer! A-and he outright called me a bitch!"
Reno's red eyebrows rose at this, "he called you a bitch?"
"He called me a bitch." Roxas nodded furiously, hoping that would gain some reaction from his boss.
The man sitting down just leaned over to look past Roxas's short frame, and asked again, "you called him a bitch?"
The redhead standing behind Roxas chuckled, and Roxas, within the confines of such a quiet room, realized just how enticing his laughter was, getting him to suddenly reflect on how attractive he was the first time he saw him alone at the table, looking over the menu. He mentally shook himself, and concentrated his fury on this bastard who disapproved of dessert.
"It just kinda slipped out."
Reno laughed, to Roxas's genuine surprise, "we don't call our servers 'bitches', Axel."
Upon hearing the alien name, Roxas's mind ground to a screeching halt.
"I know, but I didn't know that he could get that angry for a cute blond."
There was a lull in Roxas's mind, every cognitive process dying in a fiery blaze when the last phrase sank in. He quickly turned around, and promptly shoved the unnamed male back, cheeks heating up, "what the fuck did you just say?"
"Roxas," the manager warned, getting up from his seat, "we don't swear at valued customers."
Roxas pointed an accusing finger at the grinning man before him, taking in the sight of his damp, sticky red hair and ruined white button-up. His broad shoulders and chest sported large, ugly brown spots of drying cola. "H-he's not a valued customer! He's out to get me! Ever since he started coming here and always sitting in my section, he'd get on my case, about everything! The only reason why I went along with it was because he's apparently your super special customer." He fumed, fire-glazed blue eyes glaring with an unspeakable annoyance into the cat-like emerald eyes, but damn if those eyes weren't so alluring.
"And he is," Reno sighed, coming around and taking the blond's wrist in his hand, jerking his pointing finger away from the second redheaded man. "He's my brother."
"WHAT?!" Roxas stilled himself, mouth flapping open and shut like a dumbfounded fish around a hook and worm. "You're related to this asshole!?"
Both of the tall redhead's let out a howl of laughter. "You didn't think, for one second, that our uncanny resemblance may have hinted at something, Rox?"
"Why didn't you tell me!" Roxas squirmed in Reno's tight hold, "if I had known that he was related to you, I wouldn't have taken him so fucking seriously!" The boy scowled, wondering just what the fuck was going on with the family affairs. And why he'd be part of it. "What the hell is going on, Reno?"
Releasing Roxas's hand, he sighed, raking a hand through his long bangs, "the truth is, Rox," he began, slowly, obviously taking pleasure in watching his employee squirm with anticipation, "you two were supposed to hook up."
For the third time that night, Roxas's mind went into a shut down, left to stare and maybe drool emptily into nothing in particular. It took a while for the hamster wheel to start turning again. "Wait…you…we…what?"
Axel, leaning over and hissing into the blond's ear, taking advantage of the shorter male's stunned state, "you. Me. Working overtime. Capiche?" Roxas jumped, feeling a shiver ripple down his body.
"Yeah, so apparently, that was what's supposed to happen, but someone had to, for whatever reason, act like a total bastard and get you all pissed off to high heaven." Reno shot his younger brother a scolding look, ignoring the way Roxas was sputtering and demanding answers to incoherent questions. "I told you to play nice."
"Sorry bro, but like you said," Axel chuckled attempting to take a gentle hold on the blond server fuming in front of him, only to get punched in the arm, "the kid's cute when he's angry."
"I'm not a kid, asshole!"
Amused by the display, the restaurant manager smirked, and gave another sigh, "I guess now would be the best time for you two to kiss and make up, before Roxas gets on my case and actually resigns. I can't have that. As a bitch as he is, he's one of the better workers around here." Before the youngest man could say anything, his boss pinched his cheek, strolled around the two other males and walked out the door. "Don't make a mess of my room, aite?"
"Reno—wait—!" The door slammed, sealing the blond in the office with an apparent redheaded jackass.
After about a minute of awkward silence between the employee and soaked patron, Axel broke the ice, "so, how're you doing, cutie?"
Roxas shoved at him, having none of it, "you! I can't believe you! Why would you—why—what's your problem??"
Axel laughed, a sound that resonated through the boy's very bones, "Oh come on, Roxas, you have no idea how delicious you look when you're all riled up! I couldn't help it!"
Roxas hoped that the room was dark enough to shadow the blush that crept into his face.
"Reno told me all about you," Axel explained, taking a seat in the chair that Roxas had sat in before, "he came home, told me how there was a new blond kid working at his place, and how cute he looks when he's flustered." Roxas blanched. "Surely you haven't forgotten the stain you'd left in my brother's shirt when you spilled soda all over him? He went all night talking about how absolutely cute you looked, all flustered and pissed off trying to get the stain out. He also mentioned the time, I think, five days after your employment, you nearly tore up the bar area because some wench changed her drink order four times? Yeah, so I told him 'he sounds like my type; set me up.'"
Roxas bit his lip, to stifle that nervous laugh that pocketed in his lungs, "you know, if…if you wanted to, y'know, actually get to know me, you could have made a better impression. I'm pretty sure you've taken, I swear, ten years off my life with all that anger that you've planted in me, bastard."
He raised both his hands, closing his green eyes and laughed the laugh that had creeped into Roxas's dreams a little more than often after meeting him, "I know, I'm sorry. I always took the leading part in school plays, I couldn't help it. I wanted to see the sexy fury myself." His green eyes rose, meeting the blond's fascinated blues, "and now I have."
Axel got up again, and closed in on the blond. Suddenly, Roxas's aggravation died, and was slowly reminded by thoughts of how attractive this man was, despite the gaudy stain that decorated the front and shoulder of the white shirt. He swallowed, forcing off his stare that was fixated on the man's thin waist and onto the incoming face, pulled into a Cheshire smile.
"And I must admit, there isn't anyone who looks this good when they're angry. I could really get used to it, you know." Without warning, Axel caged the blond server against Reno's desk, lean torso leaning close and strong arms trapping the boy between him. Roxas gasped, ignoring the edge that dug into his lower back. "Tell me, Roxas, how attracted are you to me?"
The younger man shakily swallowed, "before you started acting like an ass, or tonight?"
Axel made an amused sound, "I guess I went a little too far tonight, eh?"
The smell of his cologne, beneath the lingering smell of drying soda, was driving the blond crazy, up the wall and through the vents. And the redhead's low, seductive voice managed to clear out any inhibitions that Roxas had tonight, flushing away the anger and replacing it with tingling desire. Roxas mentally slapped himself. No. He had to control it. Not in his boss's office. "With a personality like that, you'd be lucky to get a lay from a cactus."
"Them's fightin' words, Roxas." the taller of the two laughed. "Mind if we start over, please?"
The blond ducked his head, smirked, and shoved at the man's chest, yet failing to move him. "Just don't ask me for more fortune cookies, and I'm good, asshole."
Right on cue, Axel dug into the pocket of his black pants, and rustled something up from its depths. It was one of the wrapped fortune cookies, and Roxas could only stare.
"Those are going to haunt me forever, y'know."
"Sorry for wasting all of those," Axel murmured, hot breath fanning over the blond's ear, fingers fumbling blindly with the small package. Roxas swallowed thickly, breathed through his mouth as Axel continued to whisper into his ear, "I didn't like the cookies I got."
"Th-they're all the same," Roxas squeaked, feeling the man's knuckles brush against his stomach as they pulled the wrapping apart.
"no they're not," Axel said, "you see, there are the ones that are made too soft, so they make eating them far too easy, no texture, no excitement in the bite. Then there are the ones that are stale, so when you sink your teeth into their gummy texture, you can feel the off taste because they're all worn out and boring." Roxas let out a small noise when Axel exhaled against his neck. "Then, you have the ones that are way too hard, so trying to taste them is a chore in itself, because they're stubborn and won't let you in on the fun. Then, you have the ones that lack the slip of paper in it. Now, what good is a fortune cookie if it won't even surprise you or predict some joy in your life? And, finally," Axel pulled back, just slightly, and Roxas felt the temperature difference of the room, compared to the aura of this man, "you find the perfect fortune cookie, one that's not too soft, not too hard, so get the satisfaction of cracking them, tasting them, relishing the sounds they make when you bite into them. They're fresh, they're sweet, and they're crisp, and they always have a delicious surprise hidden in them."
The man lifted up a hand, and pressed the smooth surface of the curved cookie against Roxas's lips.
Automatically, the boy's tongue snaked out, and licked the surface, tasting the subtle sweetness of the dessert. He never really had an interest in them, but with Axel here, practically feeding him the treat, he tasted a whole new sensation, something beyond the sugar and vanilla essence. When he nibbled on the rough seam of the cookie, he earned a satisfied noise from the man who watched. Axel then took the cookie to his own lips, and bit off a corner. The delicious crunch that sounded made Roxas hold his breath, to his own surprise. It certainly did sound crispy, and, well, satisfactory. Who knew someone could get so turned on by watching someone eat a fortune cookie, for crying out loud.
Slender fingers rose to pluck the slip of paper from within the hollow cookie, and Roxas waited for the verdict.
"Well, Roxas, seems like this one is the perfect fortune cookie," he said brightly, a red tongue coming out to lick the crumbs off his lips. Roxas fought down the urge to do the job for him. Not. In. The boss's room. "A good fortune, as well as a few nice numbers to boot."
"W-why? What's it say?" Roxas asked, eyes drawn up to gaze into those orbs of vivid green. Something at the back of his head told him he'll be seeing a lot more of them soon enough.
Axel chuckled, pressed the remains of the cookie into the shorter man's hand, and lifted up the sheet. Roxas's eyes widened in shock. There it was, on the little slip of paper, printed in small font in a reddish-pink ink, was his name. When Axel flipped the sheet over, the boy merely gaped at the series of numbers and recognized them immediately. They made up his cell-phone number.
He frowned a bit. "Wait—how did you—?" Axel cut his stammering voice off with a soft kiss to the lips. With a groan, Roxas timidly moved against him, testing a reaction. He should have pushed him off right there, knowing that he's a guy who doesn't kiss on first dates or what have you, but that resolve evaporated when he tasted the soft flavor of fortune cookie and cola on the man's warm mouth.
As quickly as it began, the redhead backed off, looking like a kid who was just offered an extra slice of dessert after dinner. There was a look in his eyes that screamed "Satisfaction: Fulfilled."
"I guess that's just a little secret that you'll just have to dig out, right Roxas? Don't be surprised—shouldn't I be rewarded?" The man leaned in again, pecked him twice on the lips, lips melding against lips, and turned around, making his way out of the stifling hot office, leaving the blond to hold onto that fortune cookie. The blond barely noticed the twitchy grin that had inhabited his own face.
"After all," Axel continued, smirking from the threshold, "it took me a while to find the tastiest, crispiest cookie amongst the rest."
*"What the hell's with all the commotion?"