Trifecta: Kenneth's Birthday, part two
May. 10th, 2014 07:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
frogs_of_warWe had so many flowers come in yesterday (mostly roses), that I worked freight for eight in a half hours (the last 2½ with help) while my manager spent more that that amount of time making corsages. But today is prom, so she'll catch up and we'll be able to make arrangements to sell on Mother's Day (tomorrow, actually yesterday was Mexican Mother's Day, today is Hispanic Mother's Day and Tomorrow is American Mother's Day).
My favorite part of most holidays is getting the help started and being free to keep the department looking perfect (seeing what arrangements need to be made, filling or removing buckets, rearranging plants to get rid the the spaces and put them in customer's line of sight). the last three days I worked, we haven't had enough help, so I've only done one thing all day long. I like being out on the floor when the department is busy. I haven't had a chance to do that yet.
Title: Trifecta
Chapter: Kenneth's Birthday, part two
Status: WIP
Genre: Romance, Triple Slash, businessmen, jobs, friends, working
Length: 1k
Summary: Damien eats some weird stuff
Masterlist
Damien stomach sank. The restaurant's front door reeked of class. The brass door knob shone in the light of the setting sun as if no one had ever used it. The place didn’t even have a sign out front.
A place so prestigious that it relied on word of mouth was too fancy for him.
He hung back as Kenneth and Ty made their way to the door. Maybe he should drive Ty’s car home now. Kenneth and Ty could take Kenneth’s home after they ate.
Kenneth turned and held out his hand. Damien reluctantly caught up. Ty pressed his big hand between Damien’s shoulder blades. They expected him to come with them. He could do this. He had to. If he pretended a stomach ache now, he couldn’t pretend to be miraculously cured for the second part of Kenneth's birthday present.
He would have pretended a stomach ache earlier if he’d know how intimidating the place would be.
The front door opened and a man in a tux with tails ushered them inside. “It’s a pleasure to have you join us again, Mr. Hunt, Mr. Kingston. And this?”
Kenneth introduced Damien. The man gave a small nod. “Mr. Parzen is your… very special friend?”
Damien felt his face heat up. Why did the guy need to say it like that? Damien took a step back, but Kenneth still hand his hand and Ty pushed him gently forward. “Very special.”
Damien stepped into a world of blue velvet, gold, and dark wood. They entry area looked like a den from a movie set complete with upholstered chairs, potted plants, and bookshelves lined with leather bound books.
The next room was bigger but more intimate. People sat at tables positioned between tall palms and tri fold screens. The click of utensils on plates was muted and none of the words from any of the diners’ conversations escaped their tables.
Their table was in a corner and Damien’s chair faced a window filled with many small diamond-shaped beveled panes. Did they pay someone just to clean them every day? He'd had a job like that once. Not a smudge or streak marred the surface and the wood between the panes gleamed with wax. Was that done before or after cleaning the windows? It must have been a pain to keep so perfect.
Kenneth put his hand on Damien’s. “Relax.”
That was easy for him to say. He’d been here before and chatted comfortably with the man who brought them their soup.
The soup was good, flavorful without being filling, but he didn’t want to eat too quickly. He needed something to keep himself busy. The waiter removed the soup bowls and replaced them with little plates with two somethings on it. If Damien continued eating at this pace, he might never run out of food.
Ty touched Damien’s arm. “Today he got his first fan gift that isn’t something he’d wear as Damien or Deedee. Jaron brought it over.”
The reindeer sweater was hideous and he was glad Ty and Jaron said he didn’t have to pretend to like it.
Kenneth grinned. “Damien, how bad was it?”
Damien looked at his untouched plate. “It looked handmade. Someone worked really hard on it.”
"They could have put that effort into something you’d actually wear.” Ty leaned back as the waiter removed his plate. Damien should have eaten a bit faster. He didn’t want the chefs to think he didn’t like the food. He picked up one of the somethings before the waiter whisked the plate away in favor of a small square of brown covered in yellow sauce. He put the first thing in his mouth. It was crunchy and soft, salty and sweet, but the aftertaste was awful. He grabbed the glass he hoped was water and downed it.
Ty laughed. “The sparkling cider,” he pointed to Damien’s wine glass, “might hide the flavor better.”
It helped, but not much.
The thing on his plate was greasy on his tongue, but didn’t otherwise taste bad. Was the sauce best part? He dipped his fork in just as the waiter replaced it with three cucumber slices. The cold cucumber didn’t do much to contract the spiciness of the filling.
The next plate was tiny pancakes with thick sauce and what might be raw fish. He told Kenneth about his day so he wouldn’t have to try that course.
The two tiny taco salads were delicious. He ate the garnish, an open pea pod, as well.
Meat came next. It tasted like beef, but looked like nothing Damien had ever seen.
The cherry tomatoes were good even if he couldn’t identify the cheese filling.
Three slices of what looked like sushi, but with only vegetables, no fish or rice, came next. The one Damien ate was good, but the waiter took his plate while he was laughing at one of Ty’s theater stories. He had to eat faster. He was hungrier now than when he started. The waiter must think he hated the food.
A plate arrived with three translucent slices of meat in a clear orange-ish sauce with two sticks of chives. Damien downed it. The sauce was sour, but not too horrible. He drank the rest of his cider. The waiter filled it again when he brought the next plate. It looked like a thin slice of cheesecake, but was savory.
Too bad Damien wasn’t like Ty, who could eat anything, or Kenneth, who actually enjoyed the food, and the setting, and the service if his friendly chatter with the waiter meant anything. They talked about the owner’s daughter, now in college, and son, who'd just been asked to the prom.
Kenneth must have been coming here for a while.
The next course was rectangles of puffy bread with a small round of red pepper with a bit of melted cheese and a sprig of something green on top. They were very good. Damien stopped the waiter as he cleared the plates. “Please tell the chef those things were really good.”
The waiter nodded. Kenneth smiled at Damien.
He could survive the evening.
My favorite part of most holidays is getting the help started and being free to keep the department looking perfect (seeing what arrangements need to be made, filling or removing buckets, rearranging plants to get rid the the spaces and put them in customer's line of sight). the last three days I worked, we haven't had enough help, so I've only done one thing all day long. I like being out on the floor when the department is busy. I haven't had a chance to do that yet.
Title: Trifecta
Chapter: Kenneth's Birthday, part two
Status: WIP
Genre: Romance, Triple Slash, businessmen, jobs, friends, working
Length: 1k
Summary: Damien eats some weird stuff
Masterlist
Damien stomach sank. The restaurant's front door reeked of class. The brass door knob shone in the light of the setting sun as if no one had ever used it. The place didn’t even have a sign out front.
A place so prestigious that it relied on word of mouth was too fancy for him.
He hung back as Kenneth and Ty made their way to the door. Maybe he should drive Ty’s car home now. Kenneth and Ty could take Kenneth’s home after they ate.
Kenneth turned and held out his hand. Damien reluctantly caught up. Ty pressed his big hand between Damien’s shoulder blades. They expected him to come with them. He could do this. He had to. If he pretended a stomach ache now, he couldn’t pretend to be miraculously cured for the second part of Kenneth's birthday present.
He would have pretended a stomach ache earlier if he’d know how intimidating the place would be.
The front door opened and a man in a tux with tails ushered them inside. “It’s a pleasure to have you join us again, Mr. Hunt, Mr. Kingston. And this?”
Kenneth introduced Damien. The man gave a small nod. “Mr. Parzen is your… very special friend?”
Damien felt his face heat up. Why did the guy need to say it like that? Damien took a step back, but Kenneth still hand his hand and Ty pushed him gently forward. “Very special.”
Damien stepped into a world of blue velvet, gold, and dark wood. They entry area looked like a den from a movie set complete with upholstered chairs, potted plants, and bookshelves lined with leather bound books.
The next room was bigger but more intimate. People sat at tables positioned between tall palms and tri fold screens. The click of utensils on plates was muted and none of the words from any of the diners’ conversations escaped their tables.
Their table was in a corner and Damien’s chair faced a window filled with many small diamond-shaped beveled panes. Did they pay someone just to clean them every day? He'd had a job like that once. Not a smudge or streak marred the surface and the wood between the panes gleamed with wax. Was that done before or after cleaning the windows? It must have been a pain to keep so perfect.
Kenneth put his hand on Damien’s. “Relax.”
That was easy for him to say. He’d been here before and chatted comfortably with the man who brought them their soup.
The soup was good, flavorful without being filling, but he didn’t want to eat too quickly. He needed something to keep himself busy. The waiter removed the soup bowls and replaced them with little plates with two somethings on it. If Damien continued eating at this pace, he might never run out of food.
Ty touched Damien’s arm. “Today he got his first fan gift that isn’t something he’d wear as Damien or Deedee. Jaron brought it over.”
The reindeer sweater was hideous and he was glad Ty and Jaron said he didn’t have to pretend to like it.
Kenneth grinned. “Damien, how bad was it?”
Damien looked at his untouched plate. “It looked handmade. Someone worked really hard on it.”
"They could have put that effort into something you’d actually wear.” Ty leaned back as the waiter removed his plate. Damien should have eaten a bit faster. He didn’t want the chefs to think he didn’t like the food. He picked up one of the somethings before the waiter whisked the plate away in favor of a small square of brown covered in yellow sauce. He put the first thing in his mouth. It was crunchy and soft, salty and sweet, but the aftertaste was awful. He grabbed the glass he hoped was water and downed it.
Ty laughed. “The sparkling cider,” he pointed to Damien’s wine glass, “might hide the flavor better.”
It helped, but not much.
The thing on his plate was greasy on his tongue, but didn’t otherwise taste bad. Was the sauce best part? He dipped his fork in just as the waiter replaced it with three cucumber slices. The cold cucumber didn’t do much to contract the spiciness of the filling.
The next plate was tiny pancakes with thick sauce and what might be raw fish. He told Kenneth about his day so he wouldn’t have to try that course.
The two tiny taco salads were delicious. He ate the garnish, an open pea pod, as well.
Meat came next. It tasted like beef, but looked like nothing Damien had ever seen.
The cherry tomatoes were good even if he couldn’t identify the cheese filling.
Three slices of what looked like sushi, but with only vegetables, no fish or rice, came next. The one Damien ate was good, but the waiter took his plate while he was laughing at one of Ty’s theater stories. He had to eat faster. He was hungrier now than when he started. The waiter must think he hated the food.
A plate arrived with three translucent slices of meat in a clear orange-ish sauce with two sticks of chives. Damien downed it. The sauce was sour, but not too horrible. He drank the rest of his cider. The waiter filled it again when he brought the next plate. It looked like a thin slice of cheesecake, but was savory.
Too bad Damien wasn’t like Ty, who could eat anything, or Kenneth, who actually enjoyed the food, and the setting, and the service if his friendly chatter with the waiter meant anything. They talked about the owner’s daughter, now in college, and son, who'd just been asked to the prom.
Kenneth must have been coming here for a while.
The next course was rectangles of puffy bread with a small round of red pepper with a bit of melted cheese and a sprig of something green on top. They were very good. Damien stopped the waiter as he cleared the plates. “Please tell the chef those things were really good.”
The waiter nodded. Kenneth smiled at Damien.
He could survive the evening.
