Archive of Our Own ^beta

Contestant Eddie is one service away from black jackets. He’s on unstable ground; his team likes him, but he’s been messing up when tonight’s service includes world-famous actor Steve Harrington sitting at the VIP table, along with his BFF Robin.

Eddie has had a thing for Steve for years. His friends give him shit for it, and now the man himself is in the kitchen about to eat his food.

Gordon Ramsey assigns Eddie to be responsible for the table. When Eddie introduces himself to the duo, he ignores the butterflies and tries to be himself but trips on his feet and plays it off with a fake tap dance. His chest feels like it’s filled with helium when Steve laughs with him, not at him.

Eddie catches Robin elbowing Steve, but Steve ignores her, keeping his amused eyes focused on Eddie. Eddie successfully takes their order without hiccups, and Steve orders the sea bass. Fish is Eddie’s station tonight, so he will nail this. He’s got to. He’s going to put something in Steve Harrington’s mouth, something he’ll dream about for years.

Gordon is impressed with Eddie’s focus during service and keeps encouraging him and telling him not to let it go. Little did he know that all they needed to get Eddie to focus was Steve Harrington sitting in the kitchen. Eddie’s not bouncing around as much, clanging pots and pans and tapping a beat on the flat top with his utensils; he’s in the zone.

When Eddie sets down Steve and Robin’s appetizers, he tries to make eye contact with both of them. He tries but can’t help himself when his focus diverts to Steve. The man is so fucking gorgeous. Even more so in person than on the big screen. But Steve doesn’t seem to mind; he’s looking back, smiling the entire time.

Eddie reluctantly returns to his station when Gordon screams for scallops for one of the appetizers on call. But he can hear Steve and Robin murmuring something to themselves behind him. Steve’s laugh floats to Eddie’s ears, and it sounds giddy, playful, utterly perfect.

Shortly after that, the VIP table’s entrees are being called. This is it. Eddie’s going to fucking kill this.

And he does. His timing is perfect, he calls for his garnish on time, and he’s taking that bass to the pass feeling like hot shit, but, oh oh buuuut, his fellow teammate fucked up. The spinach tastes like a giant salt lick, and the sauce is still cold.

Eddie glares at the man. If he had superpowers, that dude’s head would pop off. Eddie has to cook another piece of fish because someone else can’t cook fucking spinach correctly? You’re kidding. Eddie’s pissed but tries to suck it up. He needs to keep his head in the game. This is for Steve Harrington.

So, he does it again, keeps his timing perfect, and everything works. When he takes the fish to the pass, he’s watching the garnish carefully, and it looks like it worked out. He’s pumped but forgot his dish isn’t the only one on the ticket. Robin’s Wellington comes up raw.

“Fuck!” Eddie slams a clean pan onto the flat top.

“Are you trying to fuck him over?” Gordon screams at the chef’s opposite of Eddie. “Perfectly cooked bass, and you bring me this?” He slams the tray down, the Wellington bouncing up slightly until Gordon’s fist punches it back into place. “One sea bass, one beef wellington, how long?”

“I got another one, chef, two minutes!”

“Fuck you, two minutes. He needs to cook another fish.” Gordon turns to Eddie and asks. “How much time do you need?”

“Five minutes, chef.” Eddie can feel his skin heating up. He’s one more fuck up away from punching someone in the face. This isn’t how he wants Steve goddamn Harrington to remember him.

“Five minutes heard.”

Eddie looks across the line and stares at the man. He hasn’t had to pull out his intimidation tactics this whole competition, relying on his goofy relaxed side more, but he will fuck this guy up if he does this again.

“I got you,” the other chef says.

“You better.” Eddie snarls before putting another fish into a pan.

He’s not as focused now, though, anger and frustration bubbling too close to the surface. He almost over sears the one side when he gets lost in his thoughts but thankfully catches it in time. He then nearly forgets to call for garnish but catches that, too. He’s slipping, and it’s pissing himself off.

“Fuck, come on.” He mutters under his breath.

“Come on, Eddie!” Ramsey yells. “How long?”

“One minute, chef!” And when he almost gets lost in his thoughts again, he hears Steve giggle. The sound wakes him up, reminding him who this fish is for. Eddie takes a deep breath, returns to the pan, and finishes it perfectly.

He’s filled with pride when he takes the fish to the pass. He holds onto the feeling as he watches the Wellington walk up front. The entire line is watching Gordon as he inspects the food. But Eddie’s heart drops when the chef lifts the Wellington and turns around.

“It’s overcooked!”

“Fucking hell!” Eddie slumps to a crouch, hitting his fist against the oven door before popping back up.

“Yeah, fucking hell. He’s right. Fuck off!” Gordon tosses the Wellington across the room towards the failed chef. “You, you, you, get out! Get out!”

Gordon points to everyone but Eddie. Eddie thinks maybe that’s a mistake, so he slinks to follow along, but Gordon’s voice cuts through, calling him back.

“One bass, one wellington, how long Eddie? James, get on meat.” Gordon moves to garnish himself and organizes the station.

Eddie stares in disbelief. Is he about to cook across from Gordon Ramsey? He’s the only contestant left on the line. He’s about to finish dinner service by himself with Steve Harrington at the VIP table.

“Five minutes, chef?”

Gordon nods and glances at Sous Chef James, inspecting the meat in the oven. “Yes, five minutes heard.”

“Great, keep communicating, let’s finish this service!” Gordon yells, and Eddie feels like he’s floating; he’s fucking invincible right now.

“Yes, chef!” He knows there’s no way this next fish won’t pass Steve’s lips, so he puts all his love and passion for cooking into this dish.

Five minutes later, he’s taking his fish to Gordon, and he tries calming his giddiness as he watches the chef prepare the dishes.

“Service for VIP table, Eddie.”

“Yes, chef!” Eddie rushes up front, grabs the plates, and carefully, oh so fucking carefully, takes them to the table.

He sets the fish down in front of Steve and the Wellington in front of Robin before glancing up. Steve’s smiling wide, his hands cupping around the plate like it’s something to cherish. Eddie could cry.

“Enjoy, sorry for the wait.”

“You were killing it,” Steve says earnestly.

“Ha, thanks, man.” Eddie’s skin feels like it’s tingling. He knows he needs to return to his station; he’s the only one left, but it’s Steve Harrington.

“You got this,” Steve says with a wink.

Eddie’s knees almost give out at the sight. He barely registers Robin’s muffled giggle because he can’t pull his eyes away from Steve.

“Th-thanks, enjoy it.” He nods to the food and forces himself to turn away.

He attempts to focus on the ticket Gordon is calling out, but his ears are tuned to the table behind him. He catches the sound of a moan and feels his cheeks heat up. He made Steve Harrington sound like that.

“It’s perfect,” Steve calls out loud enough for Eddie to hear.

Eddie looks over his shoulder and doesn’t know where the confidence comes from when he winks. He’s pleasantly surprised to see Steve duck his head and bite his bottom lip. This is the best night of Eddie’s life, hands down.

The rest of the service finishes smoothly. Eddie cooks the best night of his life, floating on air like he’s already won the competition. Gordon compliments him repeatedly, and every time he glances at the chef’s table, Steve’s already looking back.

When Steve and Robin are finished and sliding out of the booth, Eddie scrubs down the flat top and cleans up from service.

“Hey,” Steve says directly behind Eddie, startling him.

“Oh, uh, how was it?” Eddie stumbles; none of the other VIPs have ever spoken to them after service.

“Amazing, you were amazing.”

Eddie’s heart stutters and will hold onto that “you” for the rest of his life. “Thanks.”

“If you ever want to cook for me again,” Steve shrugs. “I wouldn’t say no.”

“Um, uh-uh, yeah, okay. I-I could do that.”

“Stop flirting, dingus, and let the man finish up.” Robin grabs Steve’s elbow and tugs at him.

“Shut up,” Steve mumbles to her. “Good luck. I hope you win.” He smiles and pats his hand warmly on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie makes a tiny squeak in his throat that he can’t control. He can feel Steve’s warm, wide palm through his chef’s coat, and he’s pretty sure he’s five seconds away from dying.

“Th-thanks.”

Robin’s still tugging Steve away when he says, “Don’t let me down.”

Oh god. Eddie feels those words seep into his bones, spread through his muscles, and land hard. Before he can answer, the kitchen glass door closes between them, so Eddie lifts his hand and wiggles his fingers with a solid nod.

When he joined this competition, he didn’t think he could win. He was here for the chaos of it all, hoping to make it as far as he could. But now? He thinks he really could win it. He’s seen his competition, knows what breaks them, and after tonight, he knows what he’s capable of.

With Steve’s encouragement and a new-found drive to win, Eddie will take this entire thing. There’s only about a week and a half of filming left. He’s already close to the end; there’s nothing in his way.

Later that night, while shooting their interviews, one of the PAs slips Eddie a note. He tucks it into his pocket, eyebrows furrowed because he’s confused. He’d never received a note before.

He waits until after elimination to read it. He’s safe. The only member of the blue kitchen to finish service. So, he pulls the note from his pants when he’s getting ready for bed. He unfolds it carefully, very confused, as he sees one of the printed shooting schedules he’s seen the crew have. Why would she give this to him? He’s about to ball it up and throw it away when he flicks it over, and his eyes catch handwriting on the back.

Eddie - I meant it when I said I’d love for you to cook for me again. After you win, give me a call. 310-555-4396 ~Steve

Eddie’s heart stops, his lungs forget how to work, and he gawks at the piece of paper in his hand. He’s holding Steve Harrington’s phone number. Steve wrote this note. He asked a crew member for a piece of paper to write this down and ensure Eddie would get it. He can’t stop giggling when it suddenly bubbles up from his chest.

He’s having a full-blown laughter attack when the other chefs file into their shared room.

“Lost it finally, Munson?”

“Yep, totally.” He folds up the paper quickly, tucking it into his duffel bag before anyone sees it. They’re not allowed to have their phones on set, so he can’t save Steve’s number. He needs to keep that piece of paper safe.

He uses that note for the rest of the competition to keep him going. He pulls it out at night, drags his thumb across the ink, and reminds himself he’s good enough to win.

Steve Harrington’s encouragement helps Eddie win his season of Hell’s Kitchen, where he becomes the Executive Chef of Gordon Ramsey’s newest Los Angeles restaurant.

When Eddie finally gets his phone back, he saves Steve’s contact information but doesn’t reach out immediately. He feels a little inadequate. He knows it doesn’t make sense—he literally won the competition—but he doesn’t feel like an executive chef quite yet.

It’s nearly two months after Eddie moved to California, four months after shooting the show, when Eddie builds up his nerves. He’s been running the pass successfully for weeks, executing every dinner service where his staff respects and listens to him. So, for the first time, Eddie feels ready to cook for Steve again.

He’s sitting in his small, cramped office at the restaurant. Only his pastry chefs and prep cooks are in the kitchen at the moment. None of the front of the house is there yet; they’re still hours away from opening.

It’s been four months since Steve ate his sea bass, and he may not even remember Eddie. But Eddie needs to tell Steve how much his kind words had meant to him and invite him to the restaurant. If he didn’t mean it, someone like Steve doesn’t go to all that work to get Eddie a note.

So Eddie taps out a message before he can second guess himself.

Eddie: Hi, Mr Harrington. It’s Eddie from Hell’s Kitchen. The chef who cooked you four perfect fish. I did it, I won, and didn’t let you down. I’m here in L.A. executive chef at Gordon’s new place. Come down any time, and I’ll cook you anything you want.

He’s smiling to himself, staring at his phone, when he sees the three dots pop up on his screen. He wasn’t expecting to hear back from Steve for hours if not days. He can feel those butterflies that blossomed in his stomach months ago come back full force.

Steve: Please, call me Steve. And I knew you would win! Congrats, man. I’ve been thinking about that fish for months. I was worried I wasn’t going to hear from you. Can I get a reservation for tonight? I’d love to come down. Even if I have to sit in the kitchen again, I’m craving your food.

Eddie shouldn’t be having the reaction to Steve’s words that he is. Nothing Steve said was sexual or flirtatious, but for some reason, Eddie’s feeling a little turned on. That’s probably why he even suggests what he does next.

Eddie: If you were free for lunch, I could cook you something special. We’re not open, so your food would get my full attention.

Eddie hopes Steve hears the implied “and so would you.”

Steve: I like the sound of that. How about 1?

Eddie: See you then 😉

Eddie feels like a giddy schoolboy. He’s smiling like a goober at their conversation. This isn’t how he expected the conversation to go, but he’s got zero complaints.

Eddie begins watching the front door when it’s ten minutes to 1 pm. He doesn’t want to seem too eager, standing by the door like a puppy or something, so instead, he’s pacing in the back, watching through the pass.

Five minutes later, he sees Steve coming down the sidewalk. Eddie’s heart kicks up, pushing himself through the kitchen doors and racing to the front. He doesn’t make it before Steve tries to pull on the handle. But Eddie’s right there to unlock it. Steve waves at him through the glass while Eddie fumbles to twist the bolt. It only takes two tries to get it to thunk into place finally.

“Hey, come in.” Eddie smiles wide, and he can feel his cheeks pulling tight. Steve’s just as beautiful as the last time he saw him.

“Hey!” Steve’s smiling as wide as Eddie. “Look at you.” He says before raking his eyes down Eddie’s chest.

Eddie tries not to read into the gaze; Steve’s only taking in the jacket, the executive chef’s appearance. “Yeah, looks a little better than those blue jackets they made us wear, huh?”

“And then some,” Steve says quietly, but then he clears his throat and looks away, glancing around the restaurant like he didn’t mean to say that out loud. “This is really nice.”

“Thanks. I won’t make you sit in the kitchen this time.” Eddie motions for Steve to follow him. He leads him to a cozy two-seater near the back.

“Can I watch you cook, though? I really enjoyed it last time.” Steve’s eyes are filled with genuine curiosity.

Eddie’s surprised but knows he will never tell Steve no. “Sure, uh, prep is happening back there, though. So it’ll be a little chaotic. I won’t take it personally if you change your mind.” He needs to warn the man because he doesn’t want him to be overwhelmed.

“That’s okay. I’ll stay out of everyone’s way.”

“Okay,” Eddie nods towards the kitchen. “Craving anything in particular?”

Eddie pushes the door open, holding it for Steve to pass through. The clang of pots and pans suddenly fills the air, and Eddie watches Steve’s eyes widen at the activity through the doors.

“No, I think I’d eat anything you make.”

The sincerity in Steve’s tone takes Eddie aback. “O-okay, great. Why don’t you stand here,” Eddie motions to a spot that’s mostly out of the way. “Should keep you out of the splash zone.”

“Where are you going to be?” Steve keeps his eyes locked on Eddie, like he’s worried he will disappear.

“Right here,” Eddie taps the counter across from Steve, who relaxes slightly at the proximity. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods quickly, a cute smile held firmly on his face.

Eddie wants to snuggle into the man’s neck; he’s too adorable.

“I was serious before. If it gets too wild in here for you, I won’t take it personally if you step out. But the dish I have in mind won’t take long.” Steve nods, still smiling like he has since he walked in the door. “Do you like shrimp?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“Okay,” Eddie gives Steve one more nod before setting up his station.

He’s efficient in this space, much more so than in Hell’s Kitchen. This is his home, and it feels like it. He’s quick on preparing the dish, and within 10 minutes, he’s plating up. Huddled in closer, Steve was inching toward Eddie’s side while he cooked. Eddie’s trying so hard to ignore the fact that he can smell Steve’s cologne when he sprinkles cilantro over the dish.

When he turns to present the dish, Steve is much closer than he thought. He nearly bumps into him when Steve jumps back, a slight blush sprinkles on his cheeks. Eddie grips the dish tightly to avoid grabbing Steve instead. He wants this man so bad.

“That looks so good.”

“I hope you like it. It’s not on the menu, so something special.”

“Oh,” Steve sounds surprised. “Wow, you didn’t need to do that, do something special, just for me.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, trying to understand what Steve is saying. Since moving to L.A., Eddie has cooked for celebrities and wannabe celebrities, so he’s used to how they expect to be treated. The implication is that they are special; they deserve something no one else would ever get. That’s not what Eddie was doing. This meal isn’t for actor Steve; it’s for Steve, who saw a winner inside of Eddie, but Steve seems genuinely surprised at the attention.

“I wanted to,” Eddie says genuinely. “As a thank you.” Steve’s lips slip apart, and a slight look of astonishment stares back at Eddie. “You don’t know what your words of encouragement did for me. You’re on set, trapped for weeks, not allowed to talk to anyone, and you go crazy. So, you helped a lot. You’re why I won. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He didn’t mean to spill all of that and tell Steve how important Steve’s been to Eddie’s success, let alone in the middle of a bustling kitchen, but he needed Steve to understand.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles. “When I had a rough day, I’d be like, dude, Steve Harrington thinks you can win this. That guy liked your food. I was probably going to be eliminated that night; my heart hadn’t been in it, but then there you were, telling me I could win. And you meant it. You didn’t know me at all. So yeah, thank you for helping change my life.” Eddie holds the steaming dish of pasta and shrimp up.

“Wow,” Steve hums, giving Eddie a shaky nod before following the man back into the dining room.

Eddie sets the bowl on the table, pulls the chair out, and offers Steve the seat. Steve doesn’t pull his eyes away from Eddie, even when he sits.

“Enjoy,” Eddie takes an awkward step backward, feeling a little too exposed and vulnerable now.

“You’re not going to stay?” Steve looks genuinely upset by that fact.

Eddie shakes his head. “I need to check on the team. But you eat. I’ll come out in a few and check on you.” In reality, Eddie needs to steady himself. He’s feeling a little overwhelmed and needs to calm his racing heart.

Pushing the kitchen door open feels like a lead weight. Eddie collapses against the nearby wall, sighing heavily.

“Was that Steve Harrington,” asks one of the chefs.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckles.

“Are you two…?”

“No!” Eddie nearly shouts. He would feel like shit if some crazy rumor hit the internet about Steve Harrington dating some loser chef. “No, he came to the show and just wanted to… eat my food again?” That sounds wild when Eddie says it out loud.

“That’s cool, chef. Do you think he’ll be back?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. He hopes so but Steve can eat anywhere, so he’s not holding his breath.

Eddie takes a lap around the kitchen, checking in and helping out where needed before slipping into the dining room. He’s surprised to see Steve’s head tipped back, but he can tell the man is chewing. Then his ears pick up on the soft moaning sounds Steve is making. They remind him of that mouth-watering moan the man had made eating his sea bass. But this feels more intimate; no one else is around, and Eddie’s not sure Steve knows Eddie is there.

He approaches quietly, not wanting to scare Steve. “Is it good?”

“Oh, shit.” Steve’s eyes pop open. “Yeah, man. It’s delicious. I’ve never had anything like this. It looks like pesto, but it’s not, right?”

A small drip of green sauce is on the corner of Steve’s mouth. Eddie ignores the urge to lick it off.

“No, it’s parsley and cilantro, no pine nuts.”

“It’s so good,” Steve dabs his napkin on his mouth, and Eddie’s sad to see the dollop of sauce gone when Steve pulls the fabric away. “Sit, please. Tell me about the show. I’ve always been curious how their shoots go.”

“Okay,” so Eddie sits across the table at the small two-seater table and tells Steve all about the television experience.

The conversation is smooth between the pair. Eddie finds it easy to share the ins and outs of their shooting schedule. Steve laughs when Eddie tells him about the blind taste test and cringes about the sprained ankle that took the first contestant out. Eddie doesn’t even realize it’s been nearly an hour since he sat down, finding it easy to be in Steve’s orbit before his sous chef pops out of the kitchen looking for him.

“Shit, I guess I need to get ready for service. Thank you again for everything and for coming in and letting me cook for you. Let me know, and I’ll cook for you whenever you want, truly. I will be your chef for life.” Eddie shakes Steve’s hand and relishes in the warmth of his skin against his own.

“I might hold you to that.” And Steve’s teasing tone makes Eddie ache for the possibility.

~~~~

Almost two weeks later, he gets a text from Steve. He doesn’t hesitate to invite him to the restaurant for lunch again.

~~~~

Then a week after that, another text, and Eddie’s making Steve lunch again.

~~~~

Only three days have passed the next time, but Eddie‘s not complaining. He’d love to feed Steve every day.

~~~~

After a month of reconnecting, Eddie nearly gets his wish and finds himself cooking Steve Harrington lunch every other day.

It’s easy. Their friendship is comfortable, not forced or imbalanced, and Eddie swims in it. He gets to try new recipes on Steve and relishes the response Steve gives him when he closes his eyes and moans over that first bite.

The show started airing a couple of weeks ago. It’s been cringy watching himself act like a total doofus, but Eddie knows it doesn’t detract from his talent. He won the entire competition, after all.

He’s been telling Steve how crazy it’s been with the show finally airing. Eddie’s Instagram followers have been growing steadily even though he posts next to nothing. He feels a little ridiculous telling world-famous Steve Harrington about the DMs he gets, but Steve has someone running his accounts, so he loves seeing the messages. Several make Eddie blush, and Steve gape at the audacity of these people.

Finally, their episode airs tonight. Eddie is excited to catch up on any conversation he may have missed between Steve and Robin from that night. Steve didn’t remember what he and Robin said, just that they thought it delicious. But Eddie knows they had to have commented on that crazy service. It was insanity. But he has to wait to watch the episode until he gets home after tonight’s dinner service.

The kitchen can feel Eddie’s anxiety. He fumbles on a couple of ticket calls and completely mangles one of the chicken dishes when he pours the wrong sauce over the top. His sous gives him a couple of confused glances, but Eddie shakes him off. He knows he’ll be fine tomorrow; it’s the dumb, giddy excitement to go home and watch the episode tonight that’s messing him up. He feels like an idiot, in all honesty.

When the kitchen is cleaned up and he’s locking the restaurant up, he finally glances at his phone. He always leaves it in his office during service, but tonight, he’s surprised to see so many notifications. It’s not just text messages, though. His socials have 99+ next to all of them, and he even has a few emails.

He decides to ignore them until he can get home.

Only 30 minutes later, when he’s rubbing a towel over his shower-damp hair, he grabs his phone, a can of soda, and the opened bag of chips from the top of the fridge. With a heavy plop, he sinks into his couch and turns on his TV. He shoves a chip into his mouth and starts scrolling through his notifications. He opens his texts first and sees he has messages from many contestants from the show. A few of them exchanged numbers and have kept in touch.

He’s confused as he scans through some of them. They ask him, “What did it say?” or “I can’t believe you never told me!” Eddie feels like many of these people are having one-sided conversations, and he should watch this episode to figure out what is happening. When he makes it to his best friend Gareth’s messages, some things start to make sense.

Gareth: if you don’t ask him out, I’m going to smack you

He has to be talking about Steve. Eddie sets his phone down to fast-forward the episode to dinner service. Something must have happened that Eddie isn’t aware of for his phone to have blown up.

He smashes the play button when he catches Steve and Robin seated at the table. Then he’s tripping on his feet approaching Steve’s table for the first time. He rolls his eyes at himself. It’s pretty fucking obvious he has a crush on Steve. He looks like he’s enamored by the man. He’s praying Steve hasn’t watched this or Robin. Steve talks about her a lot and knows she would tease Eddie relentlessly.

After he takes their order, Eddie watches himself walk away and holds his breath while the camera is still on Steve’s table.

“Are you serious?” Robin asks teasingly.

“Shut up.” Steve whines, and Eddie feels a little lost.

“Him?”

Steve shrugs, “he’s cute.”

“You think that guy is cute?”

But Eddie doesn’t hear Robin’s question because his brain has stalled out on Steve’s words.

He’s cute.

Steve thinks Eddie’s cute? Since when?

“You know I have a thing for that rockstar look.”

“Sure, but that guy?” Why does Robin sound so disgusted by that fact?

“Mhm,” Steve hums, then tilts his head to Robin’s ear. “He has a cute butt.”

Robin gawks and slaps the back of her hand against Steve’s arm, eliciting a happy laugh from Steve. Eddie remembers that laugh and has heard it faintly in the back of his memories. He had no idea it was a result of his ass.

“Shhh, you know we’re on camera, right?” Robin whispers.

“Shit,” Steve laughs behind his hand. “I forgot.”

Then the camera cuts away, and the screen is filled with appetizers being made, but Eddie’s too lost in his thoughts to pay attention.

None of this makes sense. He’s spent hours with Steve since this was shot. They see each other multiple times a week, discussing all kinds of things. Eddie’s told Steve about his childhood dream of becoming a rockstar but falling in love with food instead. Steve never mentioned this affinity towards rockstars or guys that looked like them.

Eddie doesn’t think he’s that dense, but he’s pretty sure Steve’s neverflirted with him. The man on his TV screen, however, very much looks like he gets what he wants if he wants it bad enough. And if Steve had still wanted Eddie when he visited the restaurant that first time, Steve would’ve made a move.

The reality is that when Steve got to know Eddie better, he no longer wanted him, and that feels like a stab to the chest. Because it’s painfully apparent if Steve still wanted Eddie, he would’ve done something about it.

“Are you sure I can’t sneak him out of here and take him home?” Steve quietly asks Robin.

Eddie’s heart breaks a little at the surreal sight unraveling before him. He’s held his crush in check for months, never wanting to ruin the friendship developing between them, but there was always a tiny sliver of hope. It shouldn’t feel like the flame of hope winking out as he listens to Steve tell Robin how hot he thinks Eddie is, but it sure fucking feels like it.

Eddie didn’t even know he had a chance and he’s already lost it.

The sound of an incoming text message pulls his attention. He’s not surprised to see it’s Gareth again.

Gareth: Are you watching??????

Eddie: yea

Gareth: dude! Now you have to shoot your shot!! Like wide open landing

Eddie: it’s not like that anymore

Gareth is well aware of Steve and Eddie’s lunches. He’s been teasing Eddie about it from day one, and Eddie took it in stride. Now, he’s hoping they’ll never speak of it again. He’s pretty mortified right now.

Gareth: what are you talking about??? That guy tonight looked like he was going to climb over that table and jump you right there in the kitchen.

And Gareth’s not exactly exaggerating. The camera catches Steve dragging his eyes over Eddie’s form multiple times throughout service. It hurts every time it happens, to the point Eddie nearly turns the TV off. The sting of rejection biting deep in his chest, but he’s never been able to look away from Steve Harrington, apparently not even when the man is breaking Eddie’s heart.

The episode ends with a camera behind the scenes capturing Steve writing the note to Eddie and asking someone to give it to him. Then, as the credits roll, the scene cuts to Eddie sitting on his bed and reading the note. He hates how happy he looks while reading it.

Eddie: we’re just friends. He must’ve changed his mind

A weird wave of melancholy cloaks him after the episode ends. He’d been waiting months to see this one, the night that changed everything, but now he isn’t sure he can watch the rest of the season. It’s leaving a weird bitter taste in his mouth. This also explains the flurry of activity on his phone.

Gareth: you’re crazy, dude. From some of the stuff you told me, he’s still super into you. Bite the bullet and ask him out. You’re seeing him tomorrow right? DOOOOO IIIIITT!!!!!

“Fuck,” Eddie forgot he was going to see Steve tomorrow. Steve likes to hear about the show and the new messages Eddie receives from his adoring fans.

While scrolling through his missed messages, he’s trying to figure out how to cancel on Steve. Now, these texts are starting to make sense. Many ask if Steve asked him out or if they are dating. There are enough messages that it feels like he could build an auto-reply telling everyone he’s not dating Steve Harrington.

A new sense of dread starts to pool in his gut when he realizes that his notifications on his socials will most likely ask the same question. When he clicks over to his emails, he groans as he reads interview request after interview request.

“Fuck!” He tosses his phone across the couch and feels his friendship with Steve officially slipping from his fingers because there’s no way Steve’s going to put up with this, especially if he doesn’t want Eddie any longer.

Steve’s going to be so embarrassed. Eddie knows he’ll be nice about it, though, letting Eddie down gently. If he closes his eyes, he can nearly imagine it. Steve telling him they’re better off as friends with this sad, pity-filled smile.

The man’s going to have to steer clear of the restaurant. There’s no way he will want anyone to accidentally see them hanging out. Eddie would be embarrassed on Steve’s behalf if anyone called him Steve’s boyfriend or implied they were together in any way.

What a fucking disaster.

Eddie goes to bed, avoiding responding to anyone. Maybe Steve won’t even show up for lunch tomorrow. In fact, Eddie wonders if he’s already had the last conversation he’ll ever have with the man.

Eddie is in his office the next afternoon, reviewing some paperwork and avoiding his staff. He cut off a few wolf whistles when he entered the kitchen earlier, ensuring the team knew the topic of Steve Harrington was very much off the table.

He hears a quiet knock on his door before a head pops into view.

“Chef? Um, there’s, uh, someone in the back who wants to talk to you.”

“Who?” Eddie’s not expecting a delivery today.

He gets to his feet, pushes past the busboy, weaves around the corner, and finds Robin Buckley at his back door. She looks irritated and a little flustered.

“There you are, Jesus.” She sighs loudly, her arms flopping to her sides. “He’s been so fucking worried about you. Why aren’t you answering him?”

Eddie tries to follow along, but he doesn’t know what she’s doing here in the first place. The utter look of confusion strewn across his face must give him away, though, because she huffs loudly.

“Steve? Jesus, you two are perfect for each other, both giant dinguses. Why aren’t you answering Steve’s texts?”

“Um,” he feels a little cowed by this woman. She’s scary when she’s on a mission. “I didn’t- I had to turn my phone off. It’s been-” he glances over his shoulder before sliding further around the corner. “I didn’t think he, uh, I didn’t think he’d want to talk to me.”

Robin cocks her head and leans forward like she’s not sure she hears Eddie correctly. “What?”

“Ugh,” Eddie groans and then pushes Robin gently out the door into the parking lot. The sun beams brightly from above, telling Eddie it must be lunchtime. “I thought he wouldn’t want to talk to me. I wasn’t expecting him to text me.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t you two see each other like all the fucking time? You better be since he canceled plans with me more than I’d like to admit. Wasn’t he here like two days ago? Why wouldn’t he talk to you?” Robin’s stomping around, clearly frustrated.

“What? Canceled plans?”

“Yes! He keeps coming here for lunch,” she rolls her eyes before crossing her arms. “You really think he never had plans? That he’s just so free to come eat here like every single day?”

“I never- I didn’t really… I don’t understand.”

“Oh my god, you two. Start from the beginning so I can fix this mess the two of you have made.”

Sweat is gathering at Eddie’s hairline, and he’s not sure it’s all a result of the sun. “What are you talking about?”

“Ok, I’ll start then. You watched last night’s episode, I take it?” He nods. “And you saw how stupid that man has been for you from day one?”

“No, that’s not- he doesn’t-.” Robin raises her hand, cutting him off.

“Yes or no, you saw how stupid he’s been about you from day one?” Eddie hesitates before nodding slowly. “Ok, so here’s the thing about dingus. He doesn’t think things through. He just acts and deals with the fallout. Which only works for him because he’s so damn charming. But he likes you, as you saw last night, and his plan this whole time was to wait to make his move until this episode. He knows we had to have been caught and knew you’d finally see that he likes you. But now, he’s parked around the corner, panicking because there’s paparazzi parked out front, and you’re not answering your phone. So he called me to come here and make sure you’re okay. He knows the paps are trying to get photos of him coming to the restaurant. He’s not been quiet about his love for the food here, but now the internet has solved that puzzle after last night’s episode. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he’s hiding away from the cameras.”

A near-painful ringing overwhelms Eddie’s ears as he tries to parse through Robin’s information. “Steve doesn’t… he never s-said…”

Robin must finally see Eddie’s confusion about his emotions because she takes two giant steps before throwing her arms around him. She squeezes him tight, not letting go, while Eddie stands there, his arms pinned to his sides.

“I don’t understand.” He whispers into her hair. “He doesn’t like me like that anymore. He never flirts with me.”

“Yeaaah,” she pulls back but keeps her hands on his forearms. “He’s a romantic, but this wasn’t thought through.” She stares at him momentarily, absorbing the sight before asking, “Did it bother you? Seeing what he said last night and how he’s been since?”

Eddie nods. “I thought- it’s stupid. But I thought once he got to know me…”

“He didn’t like you?” Eddie nods again. “Shit, he’s going to feel like such an asshole. He pulled back too far. Okay,” she sighs. “I’m putting my best friend hat on. Listen to me. I need you to know he’s not usually this obtuse. He’s so crazy about you, honestly. Steve is one of the best people I know. I don’t know how he’s done it, but he hasn’t let this city or the industry ruin him. He’s loyal and caring, has the biggest heart, and loves with every ounce of himself. He wanted to get to know you. The real you. When you didn’t reach out after he left his number, he tried to brush it off. He hasn’t been rejected in a while. But then he saw you’d been named executive chef here and almost talked himself into this dumb scheme. He was going to come for dinner one night. He had this plan about asking to speak to the chef. He was going to pretend that he didn’t know you were here and make this big show of surprise and try to win you over. Honestly, I thought he was crazy.” She sighs fondly. “I mean, he didn’t know you, but he was obsessed. But before he could get the guts to do it, you thankfully texted him, and he tried to be cool about the whole thing. He told me you said he was the reason you won. That when you doubted yourself, you’d think of him. He also told me it took everything he had to not kiss the shit out of you when you told him that.”

“Wh-,” Eddie chokes and feels his cheeks flame brightly. This is a lot of information for Eddie to act calmly about.

“Yeah,” Robin chuckles. “Please call him. Make him lunch. Put him out of his misery. If I have to hear about Chef Eddie and his goddamn kissable lips anymore, I’m going to strangle the two of you with my belt.”

Eddie can’t help himself and rolls his lips into his mouth, hiding a giant smile. “Okay.” His heart feels like it’s pounding against his rib cage. “He really said that? About- my lips?”

“Oh my god,” she rolls her eyes. “Yes. Now get inside before you melt.”

“Okay, okay. Thanks, Rob. You know he talks about you all the time, right?”

“He better,” she smirks. “Since all I hear about is you.”

They both hear a sound to Eddie’s right and catch a paparazzo trying to squeeze through the fence by the dumpster.

“Hey!” Eddie calls out. “Get out of here.”

The guy backs away as Robin heads to her car. “Hurry up before shit gets crazy back here.” She yells over her shoulder.

“I’m going right now. Thanks again.” He waits until she climbs into her car, then races inside.

“Chef?” Someone calls out when Eddie skids around the corner.

“Give me five.” He yells back before dipping into his office and slamming his door behind him.

His fingers shake as he powers his phone back on. It takes a few seconds before it comes to life, and multiple notifications fill his screen. He ignores all of them and goes to his texts, searching for Steve.

Steve: hey! I’m parked next door but there’s a bunch of paps out front. Can I come around back?

Steve: Eddie?

Steve: I had to move. I think a couple recognized my car. I’ll go if that’ll be easier.

Steve: I don’t want to cause the restaurant problems just because I love your food. You’re probably dealing with some shit. Just text me the next time I can come down.

Eddie’s heart swells, knowing how Steve feels and seeing him willing to walk away to make Eddie’s life easier, even if Steve hates it.

He doesn’t bother to text back but instead hits the call button. He needs to talk to Steve directly. His heart continues pounding as he listens to the ring, waiting for Steve to answer.

“Hello?” Steve’s voice sounded tight as if he were worried.

“Stevie?” The nickname slips from his lips like Eddie’s always called him.

“Hey, yeah. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just saw Robin.”

“Oh, um, I was worried when you didn’t answer me. Sorry if that was weird.”

Eddie can hear the creak of leather, most likely Steve shifting in his seat. “It wasn’t weird. It was really sweet. I’m sorry you were so worried. I’d turned my phone off. Was, uh, just overloaded and kinda didn’t want to deal with it.”

“Was it because of- last night’s episode?” Eddie can hear the hint of anxiety behind Steve’s words.

“Yeah, just a lot of people asking me if we’re dating.”

“Oh,” Steve sighs.

“Yeah, and I didn’t want to tell them no when I hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask you first.” Eddie holds his breath and is taking the shot Gareth screamed at him about.

“Uh, ooh,” Steve huffs and Eddie can hear the smile down the line.

“Robin had mentioned something, I don’t know, about how obsessed you are with my lips?”

A loud chuckle fills Eddie’s ear, but he shoves back his own laugh, listening for Steve’s reply. “Ugghhh I hate her so much.”

“But is it true?”

“Maybe,” Steve replies shyly.

“I mean, you told all of America you thought I had a cute butt, sooooo why hide it now?”

“Oh my god,” Eddie can’t hold back and starts laughing. “I can’t believe they caught that.”

“You were on a TV set, Stevie. There are mics everywhere. Also, cameras, you dirty dog. Every time you stared at my ass, they caught it.”

“Jesus, did they air that?” Steve sounds a little embarrassed.

“Yes, every single time.” After feeling so deflated last night, he’s letting these bubbly feelings fill him.

“Oh my god, well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

“That Steve Harrington has a crush on little ‘ol me?” That sentence alone makes Eddie feel a little giddy.

“Yeah, maybe. What about Eddie Munson? Does he…?”

“Have a crush on little ‘ol you?” Steve makes an affirmative sound. “I take it you didn’t watch the episode then?”

“No, you always tell me the best parts.”

“True, well, then let me tell you what you missed. There was this guy, Eddie, who hated that competition and nearly quit when, lo and behold, his embarrassing celebrity crush happened to come in and sit directly behind him at the chef’s table.”

“Celebrity crush?”

“Oh yeah, Eddie had kinda been crazy about the guy for years. Saw all his movies. Made his friends listen to him talk about how hot the guy looked at the latest award show. And then suddenly, he was 10 feet away, about to eat his food. He acted like such an idiot.”

“No, he didn’t.” Steve interrupts.

“I’m sorry. Did you watch the episode?”

“No, sorry, continue.” Eddie can hear Steve chuckling under his breath.

“Like I said, he acted like an idiot. He nearly tripped on his face trying to take their order but somehow caught himself to do a dumb little dance.”

“It was cute, though.”

“You were distracted by his butt. Your opinion is tainted. But this Eddie guy wanted to show off a little bit. He wanted his crush to eat his food and put a little of himself in his mouth. Maybe make the guy remember him.” Eddie sighs and sinks into his chair a little deeper.

“You wanted to put something in my mouth?” Eddie doesn’t ignore the dip in Steve’s tone.

“I always want to put something in your mouth.” He pauses and wants those words to grow slightly before he continues. “I love watching you eat my food.”

Steve groans, “You’re the worst. Keep going.”

“So, Eddie cooks his heart out. His team fucks him, though, and not in a fun way. Not in the way he wants to fuck his crush.” A soft, wavering sigh fills Eddie’s ears, and he really wishes they were having this conversation in person right now, but he continues nevertheless. “But Eddie doesn’t give up because his crush is right there. Watching him. His eyes always staring back when Eddie peeked over his shoulder. And when he finally finally got to put his food in front of the man he’s jerked off to more times than he wants to admit-“

“Fuck,” Steve gasps quietly.

“His knees almost give out. Because his crush, this gorgeous human being, winks at him. He almost crumbles at this man’s feet because of a silly wink. Ridiculous. But it gets worse because when service is over and the crush is leaving, he tells Eddie he believes in him. Like he knows deep in his bones, Eddie can do it. And I’m pretty sure Eddie was the color of a ripe tomato. It was embarrassing. But somehow, it gets worse.”

“No way,” Steve plays along.

“Yeah, listen to this. The crush? He sneaks Eddie a note.”

“What? How did he do that?”

“Well, thankfully, there were cameras because they caught it all.”

“Oh god.” A sliver of embarrassment slips back into Steve’s tone.

“They didn’t catch what he wrote, though.”

“Thank god, although that makes sense since my phone hasn’t blown up. Y’know, Robin was pissed I gave you my actual phone number and not my assistant’s.”

“I’m glad you did; how could I tell you the most embarrassing part of this story otherwise? You know those cameras? They’re even in our rooms.”

“Did you-?”

“Nooo, I did that in the shower. No, but they sure caught me looking all giddy and stupid as I read it later that night sitting on my bed. But you want to know a secret? Something no one else knows yet?”

“Yeah, tell me.”

Eddie shifts his phone to his other ear. “Eddie reads that letter every morning for the rest of the competition and every night before he goes to bed. He had it in his pocket the night he won. Would slip his fingers in to feel his crush’s words for a boost of encouragement. And then, something crazy happens. After moving to Los Angeles and finally getting up the nerve, Eddie texts the guy.”

“What happened?” Steve sounds intrigued.

“Eddie fell ass over tea kettle for him.”

“What?” Steve giggles.

“Just fucking crazy for him. He became one of his best friends. He was one of the most important people in his life, and he thought that if that were all he would get, it would be more than enough. Just being in his presence was more than enough. But then, apparently, this crush? The guy totally wanted to bone Eddie.” Steve starts laughing loudly. “I mean, just nail him right there in front of Gordon Ramsay. It was embarrassing how hot for Eddie he was. Just barely keeping it in his pants. Can you believe that?”

“That’s crazy. The guy sounds nuts. Just absolutely obsessed. So what happens? Do they get together?”

“Oh, yeah. They get together. Eddie gets to fall to his knees now whenever he wants. And, oh, does he want. The crush, well, he gets to check out Eddie’s ass whenever he wants.”

“Can you sneak me in?” Steve’s voice sounds like silk now, and Eddie can feel it in his chest.

“Probably not. They were crawling through the fence out back when Robin was leaving. But I have a better idea. How about I come to you now, kiss the shit out of you, and then tonight after service, I can come over and cook you something?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “Let’s do that.”

“Where are you?” Eddie gets up, already headed to the door.

“You know the strip mall with that coffee place that shut down? Around the corner?”

“Yeah, with the like realtor’s office on the end?”

“Yeah, I’m behind the building in the middle.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in five. I gotta tell the kitchen.”

“I’ll be here.”

“Bye, baby.”

Steve giggles softly, “see you soon.”

Eddie slides his phone into his pocket and hunts down his sous. He tells him he’ll be back soon and needs to deal with something. Then he rushes to his car.

He’s glad he told Steve to stay put because paparazzi now surround the back gate, and he wouldn’t have been able to avoid them.

It only takes a few minutes before Eddie enters the nearly empty strip mall. He inches through the parking lot until he sees the maroon BMW hiding around the back. He pulls in directly beside the passenger door of Steve’s car and smoothly slips out of his vehicle to fall into Steve’s before anyone can see him.

Then, before he can speak, his arms are filled with Steve Harrington, who is smashing their lips together. Eddie instantly wraps his arms around the man’s waist, tugging him to help Steve slip from his seat and crawl into Eddie’s lap.

Steve makes soft, gentle moans, and Eddie is surprised that they sound different from the moans he makes when he eats Eddie’s food. He hopes he’ll get to hear every pleasure-filled sound Steve can make.

Steve’s fingers dive into Eddie’s hair, tugging at the bun to free it. When it falls away, a pleased sound of satisfaction comes from Steve’s throat while he presses his body closer. Eddie’s getting dizzy at how good this feels and how desperate Steve is to kiss him.

Their lips are gliding against each other, firm pressure holding them close, and the dip of Steve’s tongue into Eddie’s mouth feels like a fantasy. This kiss is eager and hungry as if they have finally snapped from holding themselves back for months.

Steve tastes like a hint of coffee with a layer of cinnamon. Eddie drags his tongue along the man’s teeth, enjoying the feel of Steve’s tongue matching his movement. Eddie’s hands grab ahold of Steve’s hips as he makes tiny grinding circles against Eddie’s lap. The push and pull of the fabric against their bodies add to the desperation, and Eddie knows they need to calm down before he needs to make an emergency stop at his apartment for a change of clothes.

But he can’t bring himself to stop. He can feel the faint scratch of stubble from Steve’s chin rubbing against his skin and the rush of breath from Steve’s nostrils ghosting on his lips. This kiss feels like the culmination of weeks of desire bubbling over, and Eddie’s hungry for it.

Steve whines softly before sliding his lips down Eddie’s jaw, leaving a wake of spit behind him. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to drop his head back, offering more skin for Steve to explore.

“Oh, god,” Eddie pants and squeezes his fingertips tight into Steve’s ass.

Steve tilts his hip, grinding himself more purposefully against Eddie, and Eddie nearly loses himself when he feels the hard edge of Steve pressed against him. They’re both turned on, and Eddie can feel the physical proof.

“Steve?” Eddie’s breath hitches as Steve’s teeth dig into his throat. “I-I gotta, fuck, I gotta go back, baby.”

Steve responds with a long, complaining whine before pulling his lips away and sitting up to look down into Eddie’s eyes. His lips are beautifully red and in an adorable pout that makes Eddie lean forward and gently kiss them.

“I know,” Eddie brings his right hand to Steve’s cheek, gently rubbing his thumb under the man’s eye and soaking up the view. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted to kiss you?” Steve asks while pressing his face into Eddie’s palm.

“Not nearly as long as I’ve wanted to kiss you. But I promise you can kiss me whenever you want moving forward.”

“Good,” Steve smiles, then leans down to peck a small kiss on Eddie’s lips.

“You didn’t have to wait, you know? I would’ve kissed you the second you walked into my restaurant if you’d kissed me.” Steve’s car makes a safe, comfortable bubble for Eddie to open up.

“I didn’t want you to think this wasn’t real for me. You know what attracted me to you?”

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “Besides my cute butt?”

Steve chuckles and brings his index finger to the tip of Eddie’s nose, gently booping the end. “No, yes, but no. I saw a man who never gave up. I saw passion, tenacity, and a drive to be the best. I know you said it hadn’t been you the entire competition, but I only saw that version of you. It reminded me of my early career. If you want something hard enough, you have to push for it and fight for it, and I saw you do that. I was impressed and a little turned on.” He smiles before continuing. “It made me want to know you, who you really are. I love surrounding myself with people who are passionate about the things they love. I’d never seen anyone more passionate about food than you.”

Eddie feels surrounded by Steve, not suffocatingly but like he’s covered in a comforting blanket of the man. The weight of his body rests comfortably on his lap, and the scent of his cologne swirls in his nostrils, and Eddie’s heart feels like it’s seconds away from bursting with joy. He knows falling madly in love with this man won’t take long.

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” Eddie says.

“Me too. I know it’s sudden, but it feels like we’ve been here for months. Do you have a suit, or could you get one by next Saturday?”

Eddie cocks his head, “I have one, but I don’t know if it’s up to par. Why? Where would I be wearing it?”

Steve brushes Eddie’s hair off his shoulder and bites his lip; he looks adorably nervous. “Would you be my date to this red carpet event I have to go to?”

“Your date?” Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“Yeah, I thought it would be kinda fun after last night’s episode. You know, now we can officially come out together?”

“You-you want people to know we’re…together?”

“Yeah, don’t you?” Steve’s smile slips into a sad frown, and Eddie immediately wants to fix it.

“Yes, god, I just didn’t think- I don’t know. Yeah, I’ll be your date. You might have to help me with the suit, though. It’s not red carpet worthy.”

Steve’s face bursts with a wide grin, and if Eddie can induce this kind of joy in Steve, he’ll try to do it for the rest of his life. He’s rewarded with another kiss, this one softer and gentler. He hopes there’s never a day when he can anticipate the type of kiss Steve hits him with. He loves being surprised.

“I can do that. I’ll ask the stylist if they can whip something up.”

“This is crazy,” Eddie grins. “My boyfriend is Steve Harrington.”

“And my boyfriend is famed chef Eddie Munson.”

Eddie pulls Steve down firmly against his mouth, trying to convey the utter desire he feels for the man above him. He loves how their mouths slip perfectly into alignment, like they were made for each other. The soft pressure of Steve’s lips and the insistent push of their mouths. It’s perfection.

Eddie squeezes Steve’s shoulders before pushing him back gently. “I have to get back to the restaurant, babe.”

“I know, but you’re going to come over tonight, right?” Eddie can see the eager hope flickering in Steve’s eyes.

“Nothing could stop me. I gotta put something in your mouth.”

“Mmmm,” A bright blush flushes across Steve’s cheeks. “I can’t wait.”

Then Steve crawls out of Eddie’s lap and collapses into the driver’s side seat. Eddie already misses the feel of Steve’s body pressing down on him when he leans over and kisses him softly.

“Text me your address; I’ll let you know when I’m on my way.”

“Okay, have a good night,” Steve says before gently squeezing his hand over Eddie’s.

“I have something to look forward to. It’s going to be the best service I’ve had in a while.”

Eddie reluctantly pushes himself from Steve’s car and gives the man a little wave before crawling into his car and pulling out of the parking lot.

Eddie isn’t sure how his life turned into some chaotic, culinary love story, but damn if he isn’t the luckiest idiot alive. He’d won Hell’s Kitchen, scored a dream job in L.A., and—against all odds—Steve Harrington had walked right into his life and decided to stay. Now, as he drives back to the restaurant, ideas of what to cook for Steve tonight and the ghost of Steve’s lips still tingling on his, Eddie can’t stop the stupid grin splitting his face. “Hell’s Kitchen,” he mutters to himself, chuckling softly. “More like Heaven’s Kitchen.”