Author's note: Up...date? I've actually been more active than it appears, haha. :D I've been working on a collab with Iggycat called What's Your Story? You can find it on Iggycat's account (link in my profile).

This was written for a prompt from Iggycat's tumblr: "Fic with dining hall chef!Alfred and Professor!Arthur who occasionally frequents the dining hall when he stays on campus longer than intended."

Better Late Than Never

"Can I have the rice noodles and yellow curry, please?"

"Sure," said the student working behind the counter in the curry line. She looked a little surprised to see someone who obviously wasn't a student in the dining hall, but she served up the requested food quickly and with a smile. Arthur Kirkland – Professor Kirkland – returned her smile with a faint one of his own. He took his plate and moved down the line as a student took his place. He started sprinkling chili flakes onto the bland curry, but his eyes were fixed on a space over the counter and far behind the girl who had served him.

The subject of Arthur's gaze was a man in a chef's coat who was chopping celery. He was (yes, Arthur had finally admitted this to himself) very handsome. With the crisp white sleeves of his coat rolled up to his elbows and his neat black slacks, Alfred cut a professional figure against the backdrop of chaos that was the kitchen.

How long Alfred had worked at the college's dining hall, Arthur could not say, since Arthur had not eaten a single meal at the cafeteria in his six years at the university before two months ago. A scheduling error and an oversight on his part had meant he had been stranded on campus during lunch without a meal, so he had done the unthinkable: he had eaten a meal in the on-campus dining hall.

Alfred laughed at something one of his coworkers had said and Arthur realized he was holding up the whole curry line. With a muttered apology to the students behind him, Arthur grabbed his plate and made his way towards a table.

He ate his first bite of curry without relish. If only he could work up the courage to actually talk to the man.

Two Months Ago

Arthur's shoulders were hunched up to his ears as he hurried through the rain. It was a long walk from the academic buildings to the cafeteria, and his hair was plastered to his head.

"Stupid," Arthur muttered under his breath. He dodged a student who didn't get out of his way fast enough. "The one day your car is in the shop, you don't think to bring yourself lunch? So what if there's a sandwich shop in walking distance. It didn't occur to you that you might not have time to walk all the way there and back?"

It wasn't entirely Arthur's fault. He would have had time if he hadn't scheduled two students in the same time slot without realizing it, and that had only happened because Google Calendar hadn't displayed properly. It had looked like he had only had one student scheduled for that slot.

Still, there was the fact that he hadn't had any lunch, it was pouring rain, and his next class started in twenty-five minutes.

"Stupid," he muttered again as he made a beeline for the cafeteria door. "Of course it would be bloody raining."

The truth was, Arthur had been eating jelly on toast for lunch for the past several days. Somehow, the amount of time he had to make himself lunch and the amount of time he had to eat it never quite added up, so he threw together whatever he could find. A shopping trip was overdue, so all he could find right now in his flat was bread. He was almost glad he was going to get to eat a real meal for once.

Of course, there wasn't any guarantee that cafeteria food would be any better than soggy toast.

Arthur bushed past a student who was exiting the dining hall and went inside. Thankfully, he was eating lunch so late, the place was almost empty. Arthur got in the nearest line, not caring what he was going to end up eating.

The kitchen had been built so that most of it was visible from the dining hall, and the food preparation area ended pretty much where the serving area began. In fact, in the line Arthur had chosen, all that separated the hungry students from the food that was being prepared for them was a high counter. As the line inched along, Arthur found himself face-to-face with the chef.

The man was probably only a handful of years younger than Arthur, but the slight smile on his lips and a certain tilt of his head made him look like he could have been a college student himself. His blond hair poked out from under the edge of his hair net, and blue eyes glanced up at Arthur from behind a pair of wireframe glasses.

Those blue eyes looked up at Arthur's face again and fixed there. Arthur felt heat crawling up the back of his neck. Staring was only a bad thing if you acted embarrassed about it, Arthur reasoned, so he didn't look away. "Hello," he said.

"Hey," said the man. He flipped something Arthur couldn't see on what was presumably a grill behind the counter. Something sizzled. "You look a little young to have a prospie."

Arthur stared at him blankly for a moment. "Oh. No, I'm not the parent of a prospective student. I mean, I'm not a parent." The flush that had started on Arthur's neck was creeping onto his cheeks now. He ignored it.

The man's mouth twitched, but he nodded reasonably. "I see. Then you're a graduate student?"

The memory of Francis completing his dissertation a whole two years before Arthur flashed across his mind's eye. "I got my phD eight years ago, thank you very much," Arthur snapped. The man bit his lip as if to keep from laughing. Arthur was starting to get the feeling that he was teased. "Not that there's anything wrong with getting a degree at any age," he quickly added. A student cut in front of him in line. He didn't notice.

The man's eyes crinkled at the corners. "Would you like anything special on your quesadilla?"

Arthur glanced at the sign with the menu for this station and saw with disappointment that it was Mexican themed. He thought of the bland cheddar quesadillas warmed up in his microwave. "Sorry, I didn't realize what this line was for."

"Special dietary needs? I could try to make you a vegan quesadilla, but . . ." The corner of the man's mouth quirked up. This time, Arthur knew he was joking.

Arthur smiled back at him. "I'll have a quesadilla if you tell me your name," he said without thinking.

"Done. My name is Alfred." Alfred winked. "One quesadilla with everything, coming right up." Arthur couldn't see his hands or what he was doing, but there was a lot of sizzling. The mouthwatering smell of roasted onion and pepper wafted across the counter.

"That does smell good," Arthur admitted.

"I know. I can't wait for my own lunch break." Alfred and Arthur exchanged smiles. A moment later, Alfred grabbed a plate, served up a quesadilla, and slid it across the counter. "There you go, Professor Kirkland."

Arthur's hands had already reached for the plate before he processed what Alfred had said. Arthur stared at him. "Oh," said Arthur, feeling incredibly foolish. Three more students cut in front of him.

Alfred's eyes were sparkling. "Take a bite and tell me what you think."

Arthur did. It was delicious. There were definitely onions and bell peppers in there, but there were some chili peppers, too. The cheese was melted to the perfect consistency. Best of all, it was still hot.

Arthur swallowed. "It's good," he said. That's all you have to say? he told himself, but Alfred must have seen something in his face, because he was grinning.

"That's what I thought," Alfred said smugly. "I'll see you around." He turned away and started on another batch of quesadillas.

If Alfred had seen Arthur around, he certainly hadn't shown any sign of it. Every time Arthur looked at him (which might have been more than was polite), the chef was chopping vegetables, or talking to his coworkers, or doing something complicated with a frying pan. He was never working at the grill behind the counter when Arthur was there, either (and Arthur was there a lot).

But Alfred was always so temptingly close. All Arthur needed to do to get his attention was to shout his name or say "Hello" loudly enough for him to hear it . . . but he didn't. What would he say after that, anyway? So Alfred had made small talk with the soaking wet professor who was stranded in the college dining hall. So Alfred was a gentleman. That didn't mean anything.

Arthur took another bite of his curry and looked at the clock. The dining room was going to close soon and he had a class to prepare for. The few remaining students were packing up their backpacks and clearing their dishes. Arthur scowled and stabbed a piece of tofu. He had just wasted thirty minutes in a place he didn't need to be, and he hadn't even been able to grade any papers.

Someone sat down on the edge of Arthur's table. "Sorry, I wasn't on curry duty today. You should have tried the paella."

Arthur looked up into Alfred's smiling face. Alfred was wearing a plain white shirt and black slacks. His chef's coat was nowhere to be seen. Arthur said the first thing that came into his head. "I'm not a fan of paella."

"You would be the way I make it. You liked the quesadillas, right?"

"I only had them once," Arthur pointed out. "Maybe it was just luck."

Alfred looked guilty. "Yeah, sorry. I was just filling in for someone that day. I normally work in the back."

"Oh," said Arthur. Of course Alfred hadn't been ignoring Arthur; he had just been doing his job.

Alfred shrugged. "Still, I hear a lot of gossip. It's actually kind of difficult to work here without learning a little bit about the faculty. Students talk about their professors all the time." He grinned. "They talk about you a lot."

Arthur's face went hot, then cold. He had made a promise very early on in his career to avoid sites where students rated their teachers, because it always hurt more than it helped. In a move which he knew he would regret later, he found himself opening his mouth. "What do they say?"

Alfred sat back and ticked the items off on his fingers. "First off, you're English, which is always a bonus." Alfred winked at him. Arthur blushed despite himself. "You're a tough grader, but you give them good advice and really want them to improve. You have a great sense of humor, but it takes awhile to get used to." Arthur rolled his eyes. He had heard that one before. "Oh, and I've heard that you're pretty strict about your students being late. It's a good thing I'm not one of them, because I'd never be on time."

"Why's that?"

Alfred grinned. "I'm already lost in your eyes."

Arthur gaped at him. When Alfred's smile started to look a little nervous, Arthur quickly smoothed out his expression and arched an eyebrow. "Well, that's not the best compliment I can think of."

Alfred's smile disappeared altogether. "Why?"

"Because I could have written my dissertation on yours."

Author's note: Guess who loves Quesadilla Thursday. (The other meal options on Thursdays don't exist shhh.) Quesadillas are the one thing in our dining hall that are 100% reliably delicious.

P.S. Researching pick-up lines to use on professors is probably the most awkward thing I've done in awhile.