#and because Edwin assumed Charles told him everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

qwanderer · 3 months ago

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(borrowing some dialog @wordsinhaled posted in the discord for this one)

Preparing for the show, Edwin had been working harder these past weeks than he ever had in his life. But unlike his school days, he'd chosen this, and it was… everything. It was the most fun he'd ever had with anything.

He had so much to say about this restaurant, this food, these people, and the tapestry of their lives. Getting the opportunity to make an entire season of television about it was freeing. He didn't have to restrain himself to the length of one review or narrow the breadth to simply the food, or even the dining experience. He could show the audience his favorite parts, the diverse patter of languages among the kitchen staff and suppliers and regular customers, the strength of their bonds.

The planning, Edwin had thoroughly enjoyed.

The actual filming… was going to take some adjustment.

Technically speaking, he and Niko were co-directing, but she knew the process of filmmaking in much greater depth, and as the equipment, the fuzzy microphones on poles and the several different sizes and shapes of cameras and the lights and filters and reflectors of all different colors and sheens filled up every empty space in the back of the restaurant, Edwin was reminded why he'd gravitated towards a profession that meant he worked alone, and spent hours writing in his quiet haven of a flat.

At first, Niko took the lead in terms of background footage, but as things got more involved with the actual meat, as it were, of the story they were telling, he found himself deeply involved in discussions with her about what to focus on and how best to showcase it all.

Fortunately, she could take over entirely if necessary, because he found himself needing to take frequent breaks to escape the chaos of it all.

It would have been far too many people, if it weren't for the fact of who these people were. Some of his favorite people in the entire world. He'd only really known Niko in passing before, but he was increasingly aware of why exactly it was that Crystal spoke so highly of her. Her staff were similarly cheerful and professional and clearly experienced in their areas. And of course, the restaurant staff. The owners. Aadhya and Charles.

As much as it all wore on Edwin, made him feel ragged around the edges, he could never regret the decision to go forward with this project when he saw them working together, when he saw the way Charles grinned, the way he glowed in the expertly arranged lights, the way he projected the full force of his ebullient personality straight into the camera.

Charles was made for this.

—

Edwin assumed that the in-depth cooking segments would be easier. They'd be in his flat, in his kitchen, with just Charles and the film crew.

What he hadn't accounted for was how much it would change his flat to be full of the equipment, the cameras, the lights, the endless wires. He hadn't accounted for what it would all mean to have it all pointed at him, to be one of only two people carrying the load of the attention. To be cooking, and explaining, and looked at, all in a place where he was accustomed to being alone.

It was an intimidating setup, but Charles seemed to be able to tune it all out immediately, making himself at home (not for the first time, but it was a wonder every time) in Edwin's kitchen and beginning the recipe they'd decided on for the day.

Charles rolled with all of it, even when Niko or the camera operators told him to do something over, hold a bowl or a pan at a different angle, interrupt for any one of what seemed to be a thousand little reasons. Edwin told himself he knew the dish, knew how Charles made it and why, could help prepare it in his sleep, and had an immense amount to say about it. But he was horribly conscious of even the tiniest movement he made while the cameras were on him, and after the flow of his thoughts got interrupted one too many times, the lights too bright, the whole flat too full, he simply could not make himself continue.

His explanations stuttered to a halt.

And now everyone was unquestionably looking at him, Charles was looking at him, despite the curry bubbling in the pan in front of him, needing to be stirred.

Edwin swallowed. "Don't let it burn," he muttered, nudging Charles's attention back to his cooking.

Charles's gaze flicked back to the pan just for a second, then back to Edwin, then back to the pan. "Sod that," he said finally, and shut off the gas, turning fully to face Edwin, putting warm hands on his upper arms. "You all right?"

Edwin wanted nothing more than to be able to dismiss the concern, to tell Charles not to worry, that they could continue. But he simply couldn't, his muscles felt so locked up and on edge he could barely move.

He very much was not all right.

"Right," said Charles. "We'll come back to this, yeah? Start over if we have to."

"Yeah, take as long as you need," Niko agreed. "We got some good footage but we can always reset."

Edwin shuddered at the thought of having to do all that again. But he followed Charles anyway, Charles who was leading him by the hand out of his kitchen and towards the balcony doors in the main room.

"We'll just be out here getting some air," Charles said, and then there was a closed door between them and the cameras and lights and equipment and attention, it was just the breeze, and the city below them, and Charles.

Edwin sank down into his chair. Belatedly, he realized there was only one out here, but Charles seemed happy enough to settle onto the little metal table where Edwin usually set his coffee on fair mornings.

"So that was all a little much for you, I guess?" Charles asked, gesturing back in the direction of the kitchen.

"I hate to admit it," said Edwin, "but Niko was right to worry. I thought it would be easier here than in the restaurant kitchen, but this is all so focused. I can't help but be terribly aware of how many people are potentially going to see every move that I make."

"Right," said Charles, putting a hand on his shoulder and looking him in the eye with all the intensity he had in him. So much. "We do this all the time, yeah? Don't worry about explaining everything, they keep saying we're going to have to record a lot of stuff later to put overtop anyway. So just focus on me in there, right? Like we're just cooking together, just the two of us, like any other evening."

Edwin could hear the hysterical edge to the laugh that escaped him, but he couldn't possibly have stopped it. How was he supposed to explain that the lingering glances he always had for Charles when Charles wasn't looking, the way he got sidetracked watching Charles's hands as he stirred, so that he had to still his hands in their chopping lest he lose a finger to his preoccupation.

The world couldn't be allowed to see that.

"I might not be able to manage that," was all he said.

Charles sighed, and he smiled softly, squeezing Edwin's shoulder. "We can call this off, you know," he said easily. "The show. We don't need to do it. The restaurant is more than successful enough already, Mum and I are doing amazing, we can—"

"Charles, no," said Edwin.

The yearning that filled him every time he was with Charles, that was his own problem, and he refused to let it interfere with something that could do so much good for Charles, and Aadhya, and so many others.

"Why not?" Charles said steadfastly. "I already owe, like, basically everything my life is right now to you. Coming in like that when everything looked pretty fucking awful and making sure things changed, then coming back and giving us a second chance at all."

"You did the work," Edwin insisted. "You and your mother. You've built a remarkable business. You absolutely do not owe me a thing."

As he said it, it occurred to Edwin that all their closeness, all Charles's kindness, his friendly touches, his wide smiles, that could all be because Charles was… grateful. Trying to pay him back.

Oh, that sounded so awfully transactional. Edwin thought he might be sick.

"Hey," said Charles, and then he said it again, more firmly, "hey, Edwin," and Edwin thought that maybe he'd said it a few more times, too, and Edwin hadn't heard.

He looked up at Charles, whose intense brown eyes now radiated concern.

"Where did you just go?" Charles asked. "Didn't look like it was much fun."

"Ah," said Edwin, looking back helplessly. "Charles." He cleared his throat. Right now was the worst possible time to have this realization, when he'd already gotten so overloaded once today that he could still barely push out words. And these words were… dreadful.

But he had to know.

"Is this…" he gestured between them. "is it all because you believe you… owe me something?"

"No!" Charles yelped immediately, with wide eyes. "God, no, mate. Edwin." He shook Edwin's shoulder, gently, for emphasis. "I'm not gonna lose track of time at someone's house because I'm having so much fun, and then accidentally fall asleep on the couch together, because I'm trying to be, what, polite to someone who gave us a good review?" He shook his head. "You're my best mate, you know? Working with you is the most fun I've ever had in my life."

Charles grinned sunnily, but then it dimmed a little.

"And for you, this whole thing seems like it's not quite as much fun."

"It is," Edwin insisted, hating the way that smile had vanished, but after what had just happened, he had to be honest. "Most of the time. It can also be overwhelming."

"Well," said Charles, and maybe he wasn't entirely aware of the way his thumb was caressing Edwin's shoulder through his shirt, but Edwin certainly was. "Don't hurt yourself for this, please?" Charles continued. "I don't want it if it hurts you."

"Some things are worth pushing through," Edwin said.

"God, Edwin, why are you so…" Charles trailed off, biting his lip. "You keep giving away little bits of yourself for me. And maybe I'd rather you stayed whole."

Edwin had to take a moment to absorb that. Utter poetry. Tempting, beautiful poetry.

But ultimately, utter tosh. He scoffed. "Nothing of the sort," he said. "A little discomfort is well worth what this opportunity will bring to both of us." He tried his best to pin Charles with the same intensity of gaze. "And you shouldn't give up on this so easily."

"In a heartbeat," Charles returned, utterly unrepentant. "If it's hurting you."

"You're blowing this all out of proportion," Edwin insisted.

"Am I, though?" Charles squinted unhappily. "You looked pretty bad in there. You've been a little extra on edge since filming started. And I don't like seeing you like this, especially if it's for something for me that I can do without. Yeah?"

Edwin sighed. "Think about this," he said. "Think about everything this show is going to mean, not just to you and your mother, but for the sake of preserving and spreading knowledge. People are going to learn so much from this about the heritages represented in your menu, the history behind it all. And think of your employees, and your suppliers, and everyone else who will benefit just a little from the stability and growth of your business."

"Right, I get it," Charles said, rolling his eyes. "I'm not saying it's not a good thing we're trying to do here. But it doesn't have to be you," Charles told him. "Someone else can make this happen, some other time."

"But we have the opportunity, now," said Edwin. "And I would like to see it through."

"Are you sure?" Charles asked.

"I will let you know if I truly can't continue," Edwin told him.

"Can't say I'm happy with that answer," Charles said. "But if it's what you wanna do."

Edwin's chest felt full to bursting with the warmth he felt for the man beside him. He wanted to be next to Charles constantly, and especially the way he glowed when he was cooking for an audience, even if that meant enduring the audience himself.

How could he possibly live with himself if he stood in the way of the magic that was happening here? How could he not support Charles in every possible way? Charles had said himself, many times, how excited he was about the show. He'd just said it was the most fun he'd ever had.

Would Charles understand better, if he knew how Edwin felt about him? Or would he push Edwin away?

Was it fair to keep it from him, at this point? When it imperiled their shooting schedule?

He laid a hand over Charles's, where it still sat on his shoulder. "You should know," said Edwin, and then faltered. Tried again. More to the point this time. "I cannot possibly bring myself to disappoint..." The word you refused to be pushed out of his mouth. "...Aadhya."

Charles gave him a crooked smile. "Point there, mate," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "I understand that one."

Edwin let out a breath of laughter of his own.

He would manage this. Somehow.

Restaurant owner / chef Charles / Food critic Edwin AU - continued!!!

Hi everyone! I just wanted to say what an incredible experience it has been seeing the chef Charles/food critic Edwin AU be so amazingly received and to have so many incredible writers collaborating with me on this! I expected the idea to get a few notes and peter out but it has taken on a life of its own and I couldn't be happier. I may or may not have gotten quite emotional about it, actually. It is truly such a joy to see everyone's different styles, writerly voices, and insights into all the different aspects of this story come together in such a beautiful synthesis to celebrate culture, food, found family, healing, and of course, the characters. <3 I'm so so so so beyond floored and honored to be working with y'all, and seeing where it continues to go! Thank you for "yes and"-ing - you are all brills!!!

Anyway, the previous reblog chain was getting SUPER long thanks to everyone's contributions (<3) so I'm gonna start a second reblog chain for everyone to reblog from!

You can read the AU from the beginning here!

The masterpost for the AU is here!

#restaurant au #dead boy detectives #fic #little baby angst worms #payneland #au

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