Fic : Eat Me 5/6 (Pinto, NC17)
Title : Eat Me chapter 5/6
Pairing : Pinto
Rating : PG13
Word count : 1957
Summary : Zach owns a smoothie bar in Silverlake, but a new arrival in town might trouble his business, and his pants.
Chapters 1 2 3 4
On Sunday night Zach called Eliza and told her they wouldn’t be opening on Monday. He needed to not be there, just for one day. Needed to not be likely to see Chris. He hadn’t called, and hadn’t shown up at the door with flowers and explanations like sitcoms told Zach he might. Zach had spent most of Sunday feeling sorry for himself, trying to distract himself from his misery and failing.
On Monday, Zach went for the absolute apex of maudlin and brought out his photo album with the old pictures of his father. He made himself cry and didn’t eat and wouldn’t answer the phone to anyone. Instead he curled up in bed with his memories and tried to think about what his dad would do. It depressed him even more when he realised that he didn’t know. He hadn’t listened, not really. All those times that grandpa and dad had talked to him about the business, about what they wanted from it, how it was going, he hadn’t listened. Even when his father died, Zach didn’t think the information was important. It was just a smoothie shop after all, no-one would notice if it closed down, people would forget.
The day of his father’s funeral the wake had taken place at an Italian social club in Lincoln Heights and his uncles, aunts, cousins and a seemingly never ending stream of other ‘uncles, aunts and cousins’ who were not even related to them had sat down to talk about his father. They were joined by dozens of people from what LA now called its ‘Alternative’ community. Hippies, stoners, healers, new age types,musicians, artists and poets who found themselves welcomed at the store when they had money to pay, and later even when they didn’t. Two disparate groups linked by one scruffy building and some fruit. A theme developed. The store. All of the stories centred on it, the crazy customers, the police raid when the LAPD got it into their heads that the store was a front for some marijuana dealers and ended up busting upstairs where the old ladies were knitting, the acoustic open mic nights which sometimes went on until two in the morning when ‘Mr Tambourine Man’ made way to old Italian folk songs or Sinatra, or Doris Day, and then made its way back again. Zach had felt for the first time the weight of his heritage, not just the Italian roots but the hippy ethos and the uniting feeling of being a minority twice over. He was the child of both worlds, and as he watched his devastated Irish mother sit comforted by both a Calabrian nonna and a dreadlocked earth mother he decided that the store would open up the following day, and would remain open for as long as it was needed.
And now look at him. Sat moping and crying, over a boy for God’s sakes. That store had survived sixty years and it was closed up because he was heartsick. Zach grabbed his pad from the nightstand and wrote down a recipe
Heartbreak Smoothie
Take 2 peeled kiwi fruits (an antidote to ailments of the heart)
Add 4 large strawberries and one cup of whole milk to give you thick skin
Add two tablespoons of tahini, ice and yoghurt
Blow a kiss into the mixture and blend.
----------
“You know the saying a watched smoothie shop is never opened up by a handsome man who hates your guts?”
Chris sighed. “I should go see him, I should try to explain.”
Karl clicked his fingers in front of Chris’s face until he swatted them away. “Try explaining to me why we don’t have any smoothies on the menu now we know our only competition is a dead duck.”
“I’m not in competition with him, okay? I’m not going to serve smoothies and I don’t want him to fail.” Chris looked around and saw Karl shaking his head like he was about to fire him from the Apprentice. “He’s only open 8 til 6, and he only does smoothies and the odd granola bar, he’s not even in our industry. And anyway, it’s bad for business to have a closed shop next door all boarded up and sad.”
“That’s more like it! Now you mention it, it would look pretty bad if it appeared we’d moved in and driven out a native business. And I’m guessing that it you two don’t kiss , make up and start having arse babies I won’t get a decent day’s work out of you for months.”
“Ass babies? Really?”
Karl ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you go get him and let Karl do the big boy work, Princess?”
Chris ducked free of him and moved some invoices around like he gave a damn. “I’m not going all the way over to his place just to have the door slammed in my face, okay?”
“You don’t have to, he opened up five minutes ago.”
Chris whipped round and saw the lights on in the smoothie shop, the sign still turned around to ‘closed’. He jumped up and grabbed Zach’s paperwork. “If you hear me scream, come running, I might end up in a smoothie.”
-------
Zach hummed an old Sinatra song as he peeled a kiwi. He was feeling better but there was still that dark cloud following him which seemed to shoot him with a bolt of vomity lightening when he saw the diner and thought about Chris. He picked out four of his plumpest strawberries and was cracking a tub of tahini when he heard a tapping at the door. The blonde cloud which floated above the closed sign gave away the identity of the caller and Zach ignored it, turning on the blender and turning his back on the door.
“I know you’re there Zach, I can see you. I can hear the blender! Please Zach, let me explain, please!”
The blender had to go off or the smoothie would be too thin and Zach was damned if Chris was going to make him waste two good kiwis. He shut it off and decanted it , taking his time to fix on the the lid and poke in the straw while Chris battered his door down and whined. He gave an exaggerated sigh and went to open the door, not bothering to greet Chris but returning to the safety of his counter to sip on his frankly excellent new creation. “I’m trying out some new recipes, what do you want?”
Chris set the paperwork down on the counter and fidgeted as Zach went about cleaning some utensils. “I wanted to apologise for not telling you about the diner and reiterate that I am not trying to take your business away, or threaten it in any way, and that all I want is for us to make up.”
Zach clenched his fists and tried not get angry. Or cry. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t about business for me, I liked you, I fell for you, I thought you wanted me and all the time-”
“I do want you! Okay, so I may have left out a few details but that was because I was having such a good time with you and I didn’t want to scare you off. Please believe me Zach, I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Just leave me alone, Chris.”
Zach walked into the store room just to get out of the way and when he returned, Chris was gone. He waited a few minutes then picked up the paperwork and locked up. He went out the side door in case Chris was hanging around outside and walked home. He could believe Chris and try again, but he was humiliated and hurt and that would take more than an apology to heal.
As he struggled with the files and the door key he stumbled inside and something fell out, sliding across the floor in front of him. He kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the other papers on the hall table, picking up the stray folder. It was a bound report, entitled ‘Quinto Smoothie Financial Report and Five Year Plan’. On the front was a picture that Zach had never seen before, of his father and grandfather in front of the store. His father had a baby in his arms, and the sign above the store was one he didn’t recognise, a yellow and green cursive logo with palm trees at either end of the business name.
An hour later, Zach put down the report, a little emotional. Chris had produced a full financial profile, come up with a list of new suppliers which would save him a fortune and detailed some amazing ideas for promotion, loyalty schemes and refurbishments. He had even produced three different proposals for use of the upstairs rooms as a massage and holistic therapy space. Zach wondered how Chris had found out about the massage but then he remembered he had mentioned it in passing that day they had gone to the cocktail bar. One sentence and Chris had remembered. Not only that but he had tried to include it in the plans for the future of the store.
It was true that Chris has asked a lot of questions about the business, but hadn’t he also asked a lot of questions about Zach himself? He had listened to everything he had said and far from deviously scheming to send Zach to the poor house he had been spending what looked like hours analysing five years worth of books and writing a concise report on how he could succeed.
Zach let his head fall back against the couch and wondered if Chris was still at the diner. He picked up the report and his keys and went out again, breaking into a jog. As he got closer to the diner he saw the plastic coming off sheet by sheet on the big plate glass window. Chris and Karl were standing in front, looking on, Karl’s hand around his shoulder. Zach approached quietly and waited as John pulled off the last sheet to a tiny peal of applause from the two men. Suddenly, Chris bowed his head and turned away from the store, meeting Zach head on, with tears in his eyes.
They stood staring at each other for a minute before Zach motioned to the report. “Thank you. For this. I feel like I owe you an apology.”
Chris tentatively moved towards him and shyly let his gaze drop. “I never wanted to hurt you, not at all. I meant what I said to you, we’re the same. You have a good business Zach. And so do I. We need to stick together. Help each other. It’s what our grandparents would have done, right?”
Zach smiled and threw his arms open, unable to stop himself. Their beautiful moment was only interrupted by one slow clapping kiwi who Zach realised was about to be the bane of his life too.
“Just like Gates and Jobs. Gorgeous, a really lovely moment. Zach, we need to talk about investment opportunities. Chris tells me you have some great ideas for your store and my take on it is, once Chris has bunged up their arteries with his grease palace you can detox them until they’re craving salt again and the whole carousel revolves. That’s a gravy train I wanna be a part of.”
“Chris, he’s terrifying.” Zach mumbled into Chris’s ear.
“Just ignore ninety percent of what he says and take his money.”
They chuckled together and turned back to the diner, Karl taking it upon himself to gather them both up in a hug as John flicked on the neon sign.
Pairing : Pinto
Rating : PG13
Word count : 1957
Summary : Zach owns a smoothie bar in Silverlake, but a new arrival in town might trouble his business, and his pants.
Chapters 1 2 3 4
On Sunday night Zach called Eliza and told her they wouldn’t be opening on Monday. He needed to not be there, just for one day. Needed to not be likely to see Chris. He hadn’t called, and hadn’t shown up at the door with flowers and explanations like sitcoms told Zach he might. Zach had spent most of Sunday feeling sorry for himself, trying to distract himself from his misery and failing.
On Monday, Zach went for the absolute apex of maudlin and brought out his photo album with the old pictures of his father. He made himself cry and didn’t eat and wouldn’t answer the phone to anyone. Instead he curled up in bed with his memories and tried to think about what his dad would do. It depressed him even more when he realised that he didn’t know. He hadn’t listened, not really. All those times that grandpa and dad had talked to him about the business, about what they wanted from it, how it was going, he hadn’t listened. Even when his father died, Zach didn’t think the information was important. It was just a smoothie shop after all, no-one would notice if it closed down, people would forget.
The day of his father’s funeral the wake had taken place at an Italian social club in Lincoln Heights and his uncles, aunts, cousins and a seemingly never ending stream of other ‘uncles, aunts and cousins’ who were not even related to them had sat down to talk about his father. They were joined by dozens of people from what LA now called its ‘Alternative’ community. Hippies, stoners, healers, new age types,musicians, artists and poets who found themselves welcomed at the store when they had money to pay, and later even when they didn’t. Two disparate groups linked by one scruffy building and some fruit. A theme developed. The store. All of the stories centred on it, the crazy customers, the police raid when the LAPD got it into their heads that the store was a front for some marijuana dealers and ended up busting upstairs where the old ladies were knitting, the acoustic open mic nights which sometimes went on until two in the morning when ‘Mr Tambourine Man’ made way to old Italian folk songs or Sinatra, or Doris Day, and then made its way back again. Zach had felt for the first time the weight of his heritage, not just the Italian roots but the hippy ethos and the uniting feeling of being a minority twice over. He was the child of both worlds, and as he watched his devastated Irish mother sit comforted by both a Calabrian nonna and a dreadlocked earth mother he decided that the store would open up the following day, and would remain open for as long as it was needed.
And now look at him. Sat moping and crying, over a boy for God’s sakes. That store had survived sixty years and it was closed up because he was heartsick. Zach grabbed his pad from the nightstand and wrote down a recipe
Heartbreak Smoothie
Take 2 peeled kiwi fruits (an antidote to ailments of the heart)
Add 4 large strawberries and one cup of whole milk to give you thick skin
Add two tablespoons of tahini, ice and yoghurt
Blow a kiss into the mixture and blend.
----------
“You know the saying a watched smoothie shop is never opened up by a handsome man who hates your guts?”
Chris sighed. “I should go see him, I should try to explain.”
Karl clicked his fingers in front of Chris’s face until he swatted them away. “Try explaining to me why we don’t have any smoothies on the menu now we know our only competition is a dead duck.”
“I’m not in competition with him, okay? I’m not going to serve smoothies and I don’t want him to fail.” Chris looked around and saw Karl shaking his head like he was about to fire him from the Apprentice. “He’s only open 8 til 6, and he only does smoothies and the odd granola bar, he’s not even in our industry. And anyway, it’s bad for business to have a closed shop next door all boarded up and sad.”
“That’s more like it! Now you mention it, it would look pretty bad if it appeared we’d moved in and driven out a native business. And I’m guessing that it you two don’t kiss , make up and start having arse babies I won’t get a decent day’s work out of you for months.”
“Ass babies? Really?”
Karl ruffled his hair. “Why don’t you go get him and let Karl do the big boy work, Princess?”
Chris ducked free of him and moved some invoices around like he gave a damn. “I’m not going all the way over to his place just to have the door slammed in my face, okay?”
“You don’t have to, he opened up five minutes ago.”
Chris whipped round and saw the lights on in the smoothie shop, the sign still turned around to ‘closed’. He jumped up and grabbed Zach’s paperwork. “If you hear me scream, come running, I might end up in a smoothie.”
-------
Zach hummed an old Sinatra song as he peeled a kiwi. He was feeling better but there was still that dark cloud following him which seemed to shoot him with a bolt of vomity lightening when he saw the diner and thought about Chris. He picked out four of his plumpest strawberries and was cracking a tub of tahini when he heard a tapping at the door. The blonde cloud which floated above the closed sign gave away the identity of the caller and Zach ignored it, turning on the blender and turning his back on the door.
“I know you’re there Zach, I can see you. I can hear the blender! Please Zach, let me explain, please!”
The blender had to go off or the smoothie would be too thin and Zach was damned if Chris was going to make him waste two good kiwis. He shut it off and decanted it , taking his time to fix on the the lid and poke in the straw while Chris battered his door down and whined. He gave an exaggerated sigh and went to open the door, not bothering to greet Chris but returning to the safety of his counter to sip on his frankly excellent new creation. “I’m trying out some new recipes, what do you want?”
Chris set the paperwork down on the counter and fidgeted as Zach went about cleaning some utensils. “I wanted to apologise for not telling you about the diner and reiterate that I am not trying to take your business away, or threaten it in any way, and that all I want is for us to make up.”
Zach clenched his fists and tried not get angry. Or cry. “Don’t you get it? This isn’t about business for me, I liked you, I fell for you, I thought you wanted me and all the time-”
“I do want you! Okay, so I may have left out a few details but that was because I was having such a good time with you and I didn’t want to scare you off. Please believe me Zach, I would never do anything to hurt you.”
“Just leave me alone, Chris.”
Zach walked into the store room just to get out of the way and when he returned, Chris was gone. He waited a few minutes then picked up the paperwork and locked up. He went out the side door in case Chris was hanging around outside and walked home. He could believe Chris and try again, but he was humiliated and hurt and that would take more than an apology to heal.
As he struggled with the files and the door key he stumbled inside and something fell out, sliding across the floor in front of him. He kicked the door closed behind him and dumped the other papers on the hall table, picking up the stray folder. It was a bound report, entitled ‘Quinto Smoothie Financial Report and Five Year Plan’. On the front was a picture that Zach had never seen before, of his father and grandfather in front of the store. His father had a baby in his arms, and the sign above the store was one he didn’t recognise, a yellow and green cursive logo with palm trees at either end of the business name.
An hour later, Zach put down the report, a little emotional. Chris had produced a full financial profile, come up with a list of new suppliers which would save him a fortune and detailed some amazing ideas for promotion, loyalty schemes and refurbishments. He had even produced three different proposals for use of the upstairs rooms as a massage and holistic therapy space. Zach wondered how Chris had found out about the massage but then he remembered he had mentioned it in passing that day they had gone to the cocktail bar. One sentence and Chris had remembered. Not only that but he had tried to include it in the plans for the future of the store.
It was true that Chris has asked a lot of questions about the business, but hadn’t he also asked a lot of questions about Zach himself? He had listened to everything he had said and far from deviously scheming to send Zach to the poor house he had been spending what looked like hours analysing five years worth of books and writing a concise report on how he could succeed.
Zach let his head fall back against the couch and wondered if Chris was still at the diner. He picked up the report and his keys and went out again, breaking into a jog. As he got closer to the diner he saw the plastic coming off sheet by sheet on the big plate glass window. Chris and Karl were standing in front, looking on, Karl’s hand around his shoulder. Zach approached quietly and waited as John pulled off the last sheet to a tiny peal of applause from the two men. Suddenly, Chris bowed his head and turned away from the store, meeting Zach head on, with tears in his eyes.
They stood staring at each other for a minute before Zach motioned to the report. “Thank you. For this. I feel like I owe you an apology.”
Chris tentatively moved towards him and shyly let his gaze drop. “I never wanted to hurt you, not at all. I meant what I said to you, we’re the same. You have a good business Zach. And so do I. We need to stick together. Help each other. It’s what our grandparents would have done, right?”
Zach smiled and threw his arms open, unable to stop himself. Their beautiful moment was only interrupted by one slow clapping kiwi who Zach realised was about to be the bane of his life too.
“Just like Gates and Jobs. Gorgeous, a really lovely moment. Zach, we need to talk about investment opportunities. Chris tells me you have some great ideas for your store and my take on it is, once Chris has bunged up their arteries with his grease palace you can detox them until they’re craving salt again and the whole carousel revolves. That’s a gravy train I wanna be a part of.”
“Chris, he’s terrifying.” Zach mumbled into Chris’s ear.
“Just ignore ninety percent of what he says and take his money.”
They chuckled together and turned back to the diner, Karl taking it upon himself to gather them both up in a hug as John flicked on the neon sign.