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wardenparker · 22 days ago

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In the Still of the Night, ch 1

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 11.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Just absolute fluff. We're starting strong with a chapter full of flirting. Summary: In the first few weeks working in the kitchen of a cruise ship supper club, Zach has developed a crush on the club's jazz singer. Notes: Welcome darlings! We're so excited to welcome Zach Wellison and Shane 'Dio' Morrissey to the soulmate universe!

There’s a peace that come with the early morning hours. The darkness is only cut by the lights from the interior of the ship. The sound of the water and waves are all Zach can hear from where he is standing against the rails, looking down at the faint waves as they rush by the hull of the cruise liner.

It’s been a long hard road to where he is right now. Clawing his way up from depression, despair and anger. Slowly starting to believe that he deserves to be happy, deserves to do more than sleep on the ground and cart everything he owns in a backpack and be on guard with a pipe in his hand.

Now he has a room – although he had a roommate – with a bunk that is all his own. A small, but growing, collection of personal items plus a bank account that has more than a few dollars in it. It has made him think about other things. Like the mark that he wears, the link between him and the soulmate that happens to be out there somewhere in the vastness of the ocean that would be between them.

******

"Behind! Hot!" The calls come frequently and loudly enough to count as orders these days, the chaos of the kitchen being calmer than the battlefield but sometimes not by much. Today there is extra incentive to be on top of their game because of some VIP reservation, but Zach is able to focus on his task. All of his focus goes to the job at hand, because it isn't the customers he's cooking for this afternoon, but his coworkers.

Since getting a second chance at life after hitting rock bottom, Zach has worked his ass off. He still is the live-in maintenance manager for the little apartment building he lives in, but he has found that working in a kitchen was where he was truly happy. Taking a job that had at first been about having that extra cushion and security, then had developed into the passion that made him eager to rush into the chaotic kitchen where he seemed to thrive under pressure. It was almost cathartic, to be able to work through stress, although this stress doesn’t involve someone shooting at him.

"You good, Wellison?" His boss is across the kitchen accepting a shipment, and the answer is pretty much always yes, but he still checks in.

“Yep.” Zach narrows his eyes as he continues to whip the cream to the perfect consistence before folding it into the broth. “Good as gold.”

"Heard." He knew the answer but he's still glad to hear it. It means he's able to sign off on this delivery and shake the hand of the other man standing outside with a smirk on his face. "You're lurking, dude," he laughs, moving past the back door to greet his brother.

“Just making the most of my short time off.” Chuckling, and relieved to be back on land, he pulls his brother in a crushing hug. “Smells great in here.” He huffs. “Must not be your recipe.”

"Har har." Rolling his eyes, the chef waves off the jibe. "How long are you on leave?"

“Two days.” Snorting, he shakes his head. “I have to interview a bunch of knuckleheads to try to find someone to fit the vibe of my new dinner club.”

"That's the jazz thing, right? Rat Pack Vegas vibes?" As long as they're outside, he'll take the chance to smoke a cigarette. It's murder on the taste buds but so fucking necessary for getting through the day. "You have a menu yet?"

“Not yet.” Running a new concept on a cruise liner is hard. “They gave complete control to us since this is the first if it’s kind.”

The older brother snorts. "They handed you a restaurant and you have two days to hire staff to cook a menu you haven't written yet? Cruise ships make no sense to me."

“Yeah, you’re telling me.” He laughs. “I’m think something family style, but with a twist?” He offers, knowing his brother would understand. “Maybe timeless classics? Old style American?”

"Like supper club style?" A drag off of his cigarette is time to think, and he nods. "Pluck a place right out of the 60s and stick it in the middle of the ocean. Oysters Rockefeller, steak Diane...French sauces and strong drinks?"

“Very strong drinks.” He grins. “Our cocktails will only be available in the club.”

"Sounds like a place Dad would have loved." Both brothers laugh at that. They had followed their father's footsteps into culinary work and never looked back. So why stop at just the profession?

“Smoked gin and tonics for the win.” He steals the cigarette from his brother and takes a drag, groaning in pleasure. He doesn’t have time to smoke most days, so he’s pretty much quit, but there’s something about a good puff on a cigarette that touches his soul.

"You wanna come in?" With his little brother off on a cruise ship serving from a floating kitchen every single day for years, they don't get to see each other much. "Family meal's almost ready. Hang out a while."

“Sure.” He had been to many family dinners at his father’s restaurant and enjoys them. “Thanks.”

The smell only intensifies when they go back inside, and it becomes clear that this particular family meal is more like a family feast. A hotel pan of Monterey Chicken made with the odds and ends of slab bacon and Monterey cheese blocks smothered in the end of a batch of scratch barbecue sauce looks like a masterpiece, and the scraps of vegetables that have become a medley rather than ending up in a stock pot are beautifully roasted. The cook who went after this feast has even made rolls studded with the stems of fresh herbs, and the entire staff are salivating over the offering.

“I’m impressed.” Looking at the meal that is laid out, it looks like something that would be prepared for a special event rather than the family style dinner that had become such a tradition when their father had been alive and running his restaurant. “You’ve stepped up your game from the meals we ended up making.”

“By outsourcing,” the older of the two brothers admit with a laugh. “Zach, come here a second.”

Zach might be annoyed by the interruption, but no one would ever know it. He finishes wiping the rim of a four inch pan and quickly strips off his gloves, wiping his hands as he turns around. “Sure thing, chef.” He notices a man standing beside him and nods. “What’s up?”

“I want you to meet somebody.” His chef explains, gesturing to the look-alike younger man beside him. “My brother Sam. He’s—” It will be such a loss if Zach decides to go that he almost doesn’t want to do it, but the kid deserves something good after the hell he’s been through. “He’s got a new place opening that I think you might like the sound of.”

“Oh yeah?” His brows lift and for a split second, he wonders if his work has been lacking and his boss is trying to get rid of him. But Toby isn’t like that, so he looks over at the other man. “A place like here?” He asks.

"A little different." Sam leans against the nearest wall with one shoulder. Hands in his pockets, he surveys the man in front of him with interest. "Supper club on a cruise ship. We're doing old school Vegas all over the ship so the vibe is classic dishes revamped. It's an experimental sort of thing where we'll have entertainment during service. But the fun part is that we pretty much have free reign on the menu as long as we work within our genre."

“A ship?” Zach has been on a ship before. When he was in the Marines, he was assigned as the Marine detachment to a battle group for six months. It was the best sleep he had ever had. “A supper club?” He hums. “That sounds like a challenge, a fun one. Live entertainment? What kind?”

"A four-piece band and a singer. The intention is to evoke the Rat Pack days on the Vegas strip, so the band will do jazz standards and jazz covers of contemporary songs. There's that..." Sam struggles for a moment, trying to remember the name of the band. "Is it...Postmodern Jukebox? That style." He can tell the kid – alright, he’s not a kid but he's definitely younger than Sam is – is interested so he nudges a little. "It would be six months on the Mediterranean for the maiden voyage. Living and working and everything else on the ship with occasional trips ashore. Sound like an adventure you might be interested in?"

His eyes shift towards Toby to see what his boss thinks about all this, but all he sees is that his boss is smiling and nodding along as if it sounds like a great idea. “I loved being on ship in the Marines.” He admits, more willing to talk about his service now that he had when he first started. There were a couple of vets in the kitchen with him and they had bonded over hard work that was still better than being shot at. “You need a prep cook? Something like that?”

"Actually?" Sam is feeling nearly fucking victorious about this little introduction, but he tries not to show it too much. Not yet, anyway. "I'm going to be executive chef of two restaurants on the ship, so I'm going to need a hell of a Chef de Cuisine to run this club for me. Think you might be up to it?"

Zach nearly chokes in surprise, sure that this is some kind of joke. “Just like that?” He asks, looking between the brothers.

"I wouldn't have even mentioned you if I didn't think you could do it." His boss promises. "It would be a hell of an opportunity for you." It's good experience for his resume, and it's a chance to save money. Toby won't mention it out loud in the middle of the kitchen but he knows that will be good for Zach.

"And I'll take my brother's recommendation over anything else." Sam nods. "I've got some interviews to do for the rest of the kitchen staff. If you want to be a part of this process, we'll sit down to family meal and then we'll get out of here. Work on a menu before we start those interviews."

There’s almost a surreal feel to this entire moment. As if he’s dreaming because opportunities like this don’t just fall into people’s laps for real. That’s for the movies. He takes a moment and nods. “Yeah- yes.” He corrects himself. “I would love that, When would I expected to be on ship?” He asks. “I’m - I have another job as a live in maintenance guy for my building.” He explains. “Would want to give them as much notice as possible.”

"I've got two days before I have to be back." Sam tells him, but laughs and waves one hand when Zach looks gobsmacked. "I have to finish out another contract. We've got a month before we've got to be onboard for this one. So you'd have plenty of time to give notice and we'll have time to work on our menu. I just have to get these interviews done while I'm on dry land."

Again, Zach looks towards Toby. “I don’t want to leave you shorthanded the next couple of days….” He tells his boss. “Do you want me to see if I can find someone?”

Toby shakes his head though, seeing how badly Zach wants this thing he never even knew he could have before. "I'll call my guy at the CIA and see if he can send me a student for a few days. I'll move one of the prep cooks up to your line position while you get this done." He pats the younger man on the shoulder twice – his standard display of affection – and smiles. "This is gonna be good for you, man. And if you decide it's not your thing and you wanna be back on land after giving it a try, you just come on back."

There’s a feeling of security in being assured that he would be welcomed back. “Okay.” He agrees, looking over at Sam. “I’ll do it.”

"Fantastic." Sam puts out his hand and they shake, sealing the deal with enthusiasm. "Let's go eat. If your food is half as good as it smells, this club is going to be packed."

******

Even though the quiet of the night is soothing, it’s been a long day. Eventually Zach heads inside and takes the elevator down to the lower levels where the crew quarters are located. Knocking on his door twice before opening so he doesn’t see anything he doesn’t want to from his roommate.

"Hey man." Shane is on his bunk, phone still in hand, though his relaxed posture says that he's just finished this nightly phone call rather than been interrupted.

“Hey.” He moves over to his clothes cabinet and starts to immediately remove his toiletry kit. He needs a shower before he can crawl into the sheets. A far cry from when he didn’t know when he would be clean.

"Diana says hi." The other man waggles his phone in the air. Even though his bunkmate and his soulmate have never met, she's a fairly gregarious extrovert who can make friends even second hand – so she always sends her greetings along with every phone call if Zach isn't in the room to respond at the time.

“How’s she doing?” He smiles to himself, grateful that his roommate has been an easy friend and his soulmate even friendlier. “I know she’s counting down the days.”

“She started counting the second we left New York.” Shane had a certain amount of very real pride in his relationship with his soulmate. It’s the healthiest thing in his life without a doubt, and that’s a life that hasn’t had too many healthy things. “No surprise she’s been working doubles while we’re out here. It’s not like there’s a single Emergency Department in New York City that doesn’t need extra doctor all the fuckin time.”

“That’s the truth.” Zach snorts and closes his locker. “You need in the bathroom? I want to jump in the shower.”

“Nah, go ahead.” The older of the two men shakes his head. “I’ll take a cold one in the morning and wake myself up. Got some new material to rehearse.”

“It sounded good from the kitchen.” Even with the heavy din of clashing pots and clinking plates, the sounds of the band can be heard when the wait staff flow in and out of the kitchen.

“Thanks, man.” Shane stretches, groaning slightly and privately cursing crossing the age of thirty. Everything has hurt since. “We’ve got some new numbers and transitions and things to work out, but it’s coming along.”

“That’s great. Let me know if we need to tweak the menu for the new set.” Zach tells him. He’s already swiped some shorts and he heads into their shared shower.

Shane will tell him later, but he’d sooner pull teeth than change the menu at the club on ship where they both work. His bunkmate is a hell of a cook to the point where the band’s singer is obsessed with nearly everything that comes out of that kitchen. He can’t blame her. That’s the kind of food he used to dream about it the chow line when he was locked up.

The bathroom is tiny but efficiently set up. Serving the needs of both men without wasting space and the best part was that there was unlimited hot water coming through the pipes. Zach turns on the water and stares at his reflection. He’s tired, but at the same time, he’s been having a great time.

There is never a shortage of things to do on the ship, mostly because the staff party hard in their downtime. Most of the staff work multiple positions so they’re constantly busy. It makes that downtime they have both precious and very necessary. In the two weeks since they came on board there have been parties every night. It’s a lot, but it’s also a lot of fun.

As quick as he jumps in, he’s jumping out and opening the door to vent the steam. “Are we drinking tonight?” He calls out, wondering if his roommate was tired or if he’s gotten his second wind.

“You wanna go?” Shane calls back, and Zach can hear movement from the other room. “Wouldn’t take much to talk me into it.”

“I could use a beer or three.” Zach admits. He’s careful not to over indulge and develop a habit, but he actually likes socializing with the rest of the crew.

“Club’s empty.” Shane suggests. He’s hopped to his feet and thrown his boots back on, and is now inspecting his eyeliner Ina small wall mirror when Zach comes back in the room. “I’ll see if anybody wants to meet us there.”

“The bar would be easy to access.” All of the terminals are set up to become the crew bar for the night.” Zach tells him. “But you are not going to play.” He warns. “Just let someone use their playlist.”

“But what if I want to play?” Shane poses, waggling his eyebrows in challenge. “Musicians are impossible to stop, man. We just go and go.”

“Good for you, I guess.” Zach snorts, rolling his eyes playfully. “I just figured you would want to set me up with another girl.”

“Oh, I absolutely do.” This bunkmates claps him on the shoulder with a smirk after he’s shoved his phone back in his pocket. “Ready to go?”

“Sure thing.” His latest obsession is with a new cologne that Toby’s wife had given him as a birthday present - early - before he left, so he adds that to the pulse points and hums when he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Now we can go. I smell good.”

“Now we can go.” Shane teases, but play-shoves Zach out of their little cabin and toward the stairs without hesitation. For all the bullshit he put himself and the people around him through as a kid and as a young man, ever since he got released he’s made the active decision to try to be a better influence. More positive. For himself and for the people around him. Sure he slips up here and there, but he’s only human. What matters is that he tries.

Shane Morrissey is a good man, upfront and honest. He had told Zach that he wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t want to bunk with a former felon, Zach had relearned to judge a man by the weight of their character now instead of the mistakes of their past. He knows all too well what happens when you are too harshly judged and looked down on. It had actually be a perfect situation since Zach didn’t feel the need to hide his own past and had not seen the pity or judgement that might come from others. “I need a beer and like- three shots man.” Zach groans as they trail down the hallway towards the elevators.

“And someone to flirt with.” Shane insists, still steering the way. Truthfully, Zach needs to get laid just to fucking relax a little but both men know it’s not always that easy.

“Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve flirted?” Zach snorts, shoulder checking his friend. “I would embarrass both of us.”

“All the more reason to get back in the fucking saddle,” Shane points out. He jams his finger into the call button for the elevator and leans against the wall to wait. “If I kind find my soulmate in a fucking ER bay, you can flirt with drunk coworkers. I believe in you, man.”

He chuckles at the confidence the pianist has in him. “Keep it up.” He teases. “I’ll think you’re in love with me.”

Playfully, fraternal, Shane rolls his eyes when the elevator to his right dings and slides open to admit them. “Get in the damn elevator, kid,” he gripes to the man barely two years younger than him.

“Sure thing, daddy.” Zach bites his lip playfully, completely enjoying the way Shane turns beet red at the mention of that nickname. He had accidentally heard that part of a conversation when he had come into his cabin without knocking the second day on the ship.

“Shut the fuck up.” Shane mumbles, now jamming his finger into the button to select their deck. “Diana likes it. You think I’m gonna tell a woman that smoking hot who wears all my stupid ass scars no?” He likes it too, it’s just not easy to admit. It’s not easy to bare even the smallest parts of himself sometimes.

“I’m just teasing.” Zach reaches out and pats the other man’s shoulder. “I only wish I had a fraction of what you and Diana have. I’m fucking jealous. And if my soulmate is half as pretty, she could call me daddy any time she wanted.” He adds with a snort.

“You’ll find her.” The vote of confidence Shane has in the other man really comes from just knowing that life works in weird fucking ways most of the time. But instead of getting philosophical, he elbows the former Marine. “Maybe one of those room keys you get slipped every fuckin day will be the one.”

“Shiiiiiiiit.” It’s the craziest thing that he’s ever seen in his life. He would have never expected to have passengers slip him a room key and ask him to join them before. Some are older, obvious cougars on the prowl, but a few of them have been his age and he’s been tempted, but he couldn’t risk his contract, his job.

“We get them too, the band, but not the sheer fucking quantity you do, man.” The elevator jolts to a less than smooth stop and Shane grins. “Excellent.”

“Someone needs to look at that.” Zach huffs as he steps off the crew elevator. “I think they expect me to cook for them in the room or something.”

“Some of them, probably.” The two men make their way along the hallway with purpose. “But there’s worse things in life than getting fucked and making somebody breakfast after.”

“You aren’t wrong.” Zach snorts. He’s never been a very casual person when it comes to sex, but he’s had some flings. “Maybe I will.”

“If there ever comes a night that you don’t make it back to the room, I’ll celebrate for you.”

“Thanks.” The entrance to the club is a large circle, the double doors exactly half of each side and the brass handles are trumpets. Immediately making Zach relax as he knows the inside of this place better than anywhere else on the ship.

The inside has been decorated with a combination of plush-looking fabrics in rich colors and art that invokes the best sixties nostalgia, with just a dash of Sam’s native New Orleans to top the whole thing off. It feels welcoming and luxurious for guests, but those same open arms are here to embrace the staff as well.

“Anybody here yet?” Shane calls from the threshold, seeing as the lights are already on.

Zach doesn’t spend much time in the actual lounge, he’s too busy back in the kitchens making sure each plate is perfect before it’s sent out to the passengers. It’s still new, but so far, every seat in the house has been booked and the reviews have been raving.

"Shane!" Two of the other members of the band have made it there first, and they appear from around the corner with drinks already in hand. "Zach! Hey man, what a fucking day."

“It was pretty busy.” He admits with a grin. The band often plays out on the main deck for the passengers lounging around the pool, even though the space is covered, it’s hot out there. “I swear the breakfast buffet never stops sometimes.”

“Never.” The band’s bassist, Rick, shakes his head as he reaches over to pat Zach’s shoulder. “How you been, man? We don’t get to see you much in that kitchen.”

“Busy.” He chuckles. “Gotta put them in a good mood with the food so you can croon to them and make them feel like they are in a jazz club just for them.”

“You don’t want me doing any of the crooning.” Rick jokes. “That wouldn’t put anybody in a good mood.”

“It’s true.” Shane agrees, coming up behind them both. “Come on, we need drinks.”

“Yes we do.” Zach nods. “Especially after today!” He had nearly half of the supper club wanting the special so he had been busy.

"You have to bring that special back." Shane insists, making his way over to grab beers for himself and his bunkmate. "I think our singer was drunk on the smell. That's like all she talked about between sets, was how good it smelled."

“Did she get one of the plates?” Zach always makes some extra plates for the crew and the band, wanting them to be able to know the menus as well as they can.

"Nope." Rick shakes his head and takes a swig from his own beer. "Gave hers up to a waitress who had had a shitty table. I think that's why she was so fixated."

“Man, that sucks.” Zach has only caught glimpses of the headliner, often too busy to really introduce himself - it’s not because she’s insanely beautiful and he’s developed a bit of a crush just from the way she seems to sing to him, but he would want her to have some. “I’ll have to make sure she gets a plate next time.”

"You should hand deliver it." Shane waggles his eyebrows. "For bonus points."

“No way man.” Zach scoffs. “There’s absolutely no way she’d be interested in me.”

"Who?" The band's drummer, and Rick's bunkmate, Keo, emerges from the kitchen with his own drink already in hand, looking a shade guilty. Like the bottomless pit he is, the youngest member of the band has probably been rooting around for unmarked things to snack on.

Zach chuckles and shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t tell me I need to do a club snack for us?” He teases.

Keo and Shane's faces light up, like this is a possibility they had never considered and now it's the thing they want most in the entire world. It's Shane, though, who pulls the trigger. "But what would you make?" He asks, already knowing his bunkmate can't resist that sort of challenge.

Zach knows the galley pantry like the back of his hand and what he has left over from the meal tonight. “Prime rib croquettes with creamy horseradish sauce and tempura Tiger prawns with Thai chili sauce.” He decides.

"Duuuuuude." Keo groans, wide-eyed and sounding like someone just taunted him with the greatest richest in some magical kingdom. "You can't just say things like that, man!"

Zach snorts and claps him on the shoulder. “Tell you what, you go get me a drink and I’ll fire up the cookers so we can drink and eat.”

"The hero of the hour!" Another voice from the doorway proclaims, only having heard the words 'drink and eat' come from someone they recognize as kitchen staff. This won't be a large party but it will be a party, and a few more people spill through the door in turn.

"I'll make you something good, man." Keo promises. Musicians who were bartenders in previous jobs are not rare but they are good to have around, and Keo was a hell of a bartender.

“I’ll hold you to it!” He has free range over his space and there are a few more ideas that he can try out tonight and use the crew as his test dummies. They never hold back their opinions on the food and he loves that, always striving to make it better.

The large handful of people who flood into the space ends up totaling more than a dozen within just a few minutes of Zach disappearing into the kitchen, but the last one through the door is finally dressed down after a day of performing and being on for passengers.

Jeans and a sweatshirt. That’s all it is for you after dark, though you would stay dressed up if you had someone to impress. When it’s just Shane and the boys, though? They can stand to see you without full hair and makeup.

Shouts of your name ring out because the music hasn’t started yet, Zach hearing it from the kitchen. He perks up slightly and hates how he feels his pulse picks up knowing you are here.

"That's a hell of a welcome," you tease, gratefully accepting a cocktail when it's pressed into your hand and doling out hugs to your bandmates. These guys have become your family in just a few short months, so much so that taking this adventure on the ship together seemed like a no-brainer. Each of you had things that had brought you into New York City but few of you have any ties to bring you back there, which makes this floating madhouse all the more fun.

The ship was the best decision you could have made, in a lot of ways. There is a camaraderie here that you couldn't have anticipated and it soothes you in equally unexpected ways. While you love spending your regular time with the guys in the band, you've found a friend in your bunkmate as well, which is great when River is just as excited to do to these staff parties as you are.

In the kitchen, the fryers are heating up and Zach works quickly to whip up a tempura batter. The fried prawns won’t take but a minute, but while it's resting, he's mixing up the shredded prime rib with some leftover fresh breadcrumbs and making meatball sized bites to stuff with cheese. Coated in panko, it will be a delicious little appetizer and something that he had been thinking about adding to the dinner menu one night.

The party is starting to kick up in the club. He can hear music start to play and people chattering over each other while he works. The atmosphere is laid back enough and it’s not too late at night that they can be assured of a few hours of uninterrupted revelry — just the way everyone likes it.

The music starts to filter back into the kitchen, making Zach wish that they had installed speakers, but he can hear the music every time the door swings open. He hears the door behind him, and he calls outs, “where’s my drink!”

“It’s right here.” The door thwaps shut behind you and you juggle the glass in your hand so the ice rattles. “But you have to be nice or I’ll drink it myself.”

“Oh!” He hadn’t been expecting that voice, whirling around to find you, the girl that he’s been crushing on the smokey smooth vocals being performed every night, standing on the other side of the stainless counter with his drink in your hand. “I— uh, I thought you were Shane.” He flusters, feeling his cheeks heat up as you smirk at him.

“Not last time I checked.” In fact, that little shit had been teasing you mercilessly lately about the crush you’ve developed on the hot chef at the club and specifically shoved you through the door with his drink just to bust you up about it. “It’s Zach, right?” As if you don’t already know. As if you hadn’t found out his name right away.

“Yeah— uh, that’s – that’s me.” The fact that he’s stumbling over his words makes him want to kick Shane’s ass, as well as his own. He used to be able to talk to pretty women with confidence. He says your name easily. “Of course I know the voice I hear every night.”

“Should I apologize?” You ask, mostly rhetorically, and set his glass down on the counter between you. “If you can identify it already, you’ll be sick of hearing me before too long.”

“Not at all.” Zach snorts. “Sometimes your song sets are what power the kitchen through the night.” He tells you. “I wish I had them put speakers in here.”

“Really?” The tips of your ears are immediately on fire and you try not to look too pleased at that, imagining him in here listening to you sing whenever the doors open and close. That answers your silent wondering if he had ever cared to listen. “Do you…have a favorite? Something I can put into the set on busy nights for you, maybe?”

“Crazy.” Zach immediately says, before he coughs and turns back around to his mixing bowl to continue to roll out the snacks. “It’s unique and I swear the first time I thought it was a recording of Patsy Cline, but then you changed the words.”

“I thought the last verse deserved a little hope,” you admit, feeling your cheeks heat to match your ears. “A song about broken love and broken trust can be beautiful, sure. But life without hope is just too sad for me.”

“That’s why I love it.” Zach admits, glancing over his shoulder at you and then back down at what he’s doing. “I heard you sing it from the depths of your soul.”

With your glass halfway to your lips, you can only pause and hope you don't look nearly as flustered as you actually are. "It's for you, then." You tell him, wondering what the hell has gotten into you. "Anytime you hear it. It's for you."

Zach is so damn grateful that his back is turned so you can’t see the way he flushes hot. “There’s been some times I’ve needed something to cling to, and that song….it reminds me of that. Beautiful melancholy.”

"Same." Gently, deliberately, you slide up to the counter to lean your elbows on the stainless steel. "I don't know what you're doing in here but everything you make smells so fucking good."

He chuckles, preening slightly and his shoulders straighten slightly. “You should have sent word you needed another plate.” He looks back at you again. “I would have made sure you got a new one.”

"I didn't know I could call in special privileges." Sure, you're teasing. But his cheeks have pinked in the most adorable way and maybe just maybe you won't murder Shane for shoving you through the kitchen door after all. "Giving me that power might be dangerous."

He laughs as he drops the first round of croquettes into the fryer. “Yeah?” He turns around and smirks slightly. “You would abuse the power?”

"Constantly." There is an accidental groan in your voice, but it's honest so you just shrug it off. "I swear that chicken thing you did last week with the herby butter inside it? Best thing I've ever had in my life. Hands down."

“I bet I can change your mind on that tonight.” He lifts the basket out of the grease and shakes the cooking food slightly and checks the color. The cheese will melt and become a wonderful gooey surprise in the center. The only thing that would make it better is if he had horseradish cheese. Maybe next time he will grate the cheese and mix it with horseradish for the desired bite. But for tonight, the cream sauce will be a good substitute.

"Oh yeah?" A man who cooks for you is already your favorite man at any given time. That's probably where this little crush came from originally, but it has clung on over the first few weeks on board instead of shaking off like it usually does. Like glitter holding onto your hair with every ounce of determination, this crush is making you giggly and flirty like you're in high school all over again. "What are these?"

Zach waves you behind the counter as he pulls up the fryer basket again. “Prime Rib Croquettes.” He tells you. “Shredded prime rib meatballs basically, stuffed with white cheddar, breaded and fried.” He grabs two of the balls and drizzles the horseradish sauce on a plate before he lays them on it carefully and wipes the plate clean out of habit before turning and presenting it to you. “Tell me what you think. This is my first time playing with the idea.”

“So I’m your guinea pig?” Why that theory delights you so much, you’re not really sure, but you lean on the counter with a very serious expression. “Well they look beautiful. Let’s see if they’re as good as they look.” The little nuggets are bite sized and crispy, and when you pop the first one into your mouth the first thing that happens is the bone-rattling groan that rolls through you. The flavor is incredible and the outside crunches while the inside melts in your mouth — salty, unctuous, spicy, creamy, umami goodness making you close your eyes and hold onto the taste while you eat.

“That.” You still have your eyes closed but you point in the vicinity of the plate. “Is the best thing ever.”

You make the food sound sexual which makes Zach’s body react if a very primal way. Shifting slightly, he picks up another one from the basket and squirts the sauce directly on it. “Yeah?”

“Seriously.” You nod enthusiastically. “Eat one. You’re a genius.”

Zach pops it into his mouth and chews. Groaning while he’s analyzing the flavor profile and wondering if anything needs to be added. “Would you want a red wine au jus reduction dipping sauce if there was horseradish in the croquette or leave it as is?” He asks you seriously.

Laughing is probably a self-conscious reaction, but you look up at him with a slightly cringed expression. “I don’t have any idea what a red wine juice—whatever you just said,” you admit. “But I like wine and I like horseradish, and I like this, so probably.”

He chuckles quietly, nodding as he motions to the other one. “Well, when I put this on the menu as an appetizer, why don’t I offer both and see what you think?”

You have absolutely no shame in picking up the other fried nugget of delicious glory, and practically hold it up to him in salute. “I promise you a full report, and look forward to finding out whatever a red wine juice is.”

“Au jus.” He smiles as he watches you eat the next bite. “It’s French.” He explain. “It means ‘with juice’.”

No power in the world could stop you from finishing and thoroughly enjoying that second bite, but when you do you grin at him unrepentantly. “So I was right. It is red wine juice. Just fancy.”

“Fancy.” He chuckles. “It’s actually the drippings from the prime rib, reduced down with red wine until I make it the best tasting sauce you’ve ever put in your mouth.”

“Oh my god.” Even just explained, it sounds amazing, and you groan at the thought of it, though the sound turns to laughter after a second or two. “That sounds amazing. You can probably tell that I know nothing about cooking.”

“That’s okay.” He chuckles as he drops another round of the croquettes to fry and then turns towards the prawns. “I know plenty.”

Warmth curls in your belly, low and teasing and curious, and you suck a drop of the cream sauce off your thumb with a flashed grin under intentionally lowered lashes. “Is this where I suggest that you teach me?”

Zach watches you for a moment, wondering if you are flirting with him, because it feels like you are flirting with him. "Somehow I think that you wouldn't really want to learn how to cook." He teases.

"Fuck, that was awful, wasn't it?" You laugh, dropping your cheek over to one palm in a sort of sheepish expression of apology. "Unless you like cheesy flirting, in which case it was totally intentional and I'm owning it."

"Then you own it." Zach snorts, grinning at you happily as he waggles his brows. "I'm so out of practice flirting that all of it is cheesy."

"All flirting is cheesy anyway, that has nothing to do with being out of practice." As if to dispel any idea that it could be otherwise, you wave one hand and scoop up your drink with the other. "I am interested in learning to cook, for the record. But...call it a secondary interest."

"Okay." He nods and lifts a brow playfully. "Are we at burning water skill levels? Or can you at least feed yourself?" He asks. "What am I working with here?"

"I can follow reheat instructions, make macaroni and cheese from a box, and make a hell of a sandwich. But anything past that?" You shrug, but the whole thing stays playful and you flash him a grin. "I can proudly say I've never burnt water."

"Now I'm sure that I'm supposed to be horrified that you eat mac and cheese from a box...." Zach shrugs. "But that shit is good sometimes."

"You would be more horrified if you had seen my one attempt at making it from scratch," you promise him, though you're absolutely able to laugh at your past food follies. "Do you know that show Worst Cooks in America? I would be an excellent candidate."

"That bad?" He can't help but laugh, but you are grinning with him. He pulls the rest of the croquettes out of the hot oil and smirks as he starts to batter the fresh prawns in the airy batter and dropping them into the grease to start bubbling.

"I've got a lot to learn." He has the most fantastic laugh, and it rolls through you until your stomach flips all over again. "About cooking anyway. Not—not other stuff." Yeah...maybe you're out of practice too. That's okay, though. "So...what are those?"

“Uh.” Zach clears his throat as his thoughts when decidedly X-rated and he looks down at what he was doing off of muscle memory. “Tempura prawns.” He tells you. “Gonna toss them in a chili sauce.”

"Oh, come on." A delighted moan of anticipation slips from your lips but you don't care. "That sounds incredible."

“I thought it would make the best kind of party snack.” He admits. “And give me some feedback.”

"You were absolutely right." You promise him, watching as he moves around the corner of the kitchen with confidence and a graceful economy of movement. "I've never met anybody more consistently hungry than a bunch of musicians, and that's who is out there for the most part."

“Ha!” Zach snorts. “You’ve never met a bunch of marines.” He tells you as he rushes to get the chili sauce. It would be better to warm it up.

"No, can't say I have." Self-consciously, your fingers brush over your shoulder where the aged lines of a warrior's tattoo are forever marked in your skin. Thankfully Zach is looking away in that moment, and doesn't see the flicker of something longing and unknown in your eyes. "You served?"

“Yeah.” It’s taken him a long time to come back to being able to talk about his service even casually, but he doesn’t feel the need to be defensive with you. Despite being the most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, he’s comfortable with you. He starts to warm up the sauce and finally picks up the drink you had brought him. “Six years.”

"I'm getting the sense that 'thank you for your service' is maybe not your favorite thing to hear?" He finally steps away from cooking to come back over to the counter you've been leaning on and for the first time you catch the little flecks of gold in his eyes.

“It’s okay.” He promises softly, wincing as he hopes he didn’t come off as angry like he used to. “It’s just- it didn’t end well.” He admits. “Still feel guilty sometimes.”

"Well..." This doesn't seem to be a very happy topic and we were flirting just a minute and a half ago, so you try to steer things back to a more upbeat direction if you can. You know all about making sacrifices for the thing you thought was right. It doesn't always leave the most positive feelings in its wake. "Hopefully now you're doing something that you love?"

“I love being in the kitchen.” Zach flashes you a grin as he looks up from stirring the sauce and moves back over to pull up the prawns. “It’s honestly soothing.”

"And you're amazing at it." Not that you mind watching, either. If you happen to catch the movement of his back muscles under his t-shirt every time he turns around to work on something? Well, that's just a fringe benefit for you.

“It’s about being able to execute and plan.” He tells you as he transfers the prawns into a bowl and reaches for the sauce pot. He drizzles the chili sauce over the fried seafood and starts to toss them in the bowl. “And adapt to overcome any obstacles that might arise.”

"Sounds like good organizational skills wrapped around a creative outlet." You observe, watching the deft, quick movements of his hands as he continues to work. If you maybe imagine other things those hands could be good for? Well, that's just for you. "Food is art, isn't it? I've always thought so, anyway."

“It absolutely is.” He agrees before he plucks a prawn out of the bowl and offers it to you. “Tell me what you think.”

If you were ten years younger you might have nipped that bite right out of his fingertips and let your tongue linger just to tease, but you’re both adults. You’re a little past the point of overt horniness with total strangers.

Probably.

So instead you take the offering from him with two careful fingers, and pop it in your mouth with the highest of expectations. Expectation which are immediately met, as one more heavenly groan escapes you and you positively giggle with glee.

“You like it.” He can tell and there’s just a drop of the warm chili sauce on your lip, right in the corner that makes Zach want to lick it off your lips.

“S’that obvious?” You grin, practically giggling through the end of the bite and licking up the drop of missed sauce along with it.

“I guess you’re hungry since you gave away your dinner.” He supposes. “So you have to make up for it now.”

Curiosity makes your head pop up again, and your forehead creases in question. “How did you know about that?”

“Shane told me.” He admits, reaching for another plate so he can fix you more before bringing out the food for everyone else. “Said you had been drooling over the smells but you didn’t get to eat.”

“That’s a very attractive picture of me that he’s painted,” you huff, almost rolling your eyes. Of course Shane gave you up. He’s been telling you to talk to Zach for ages now but you hadn’t had the guts.

He chuckles softly. “I took it as a compliment. Like half of my staff mooning over you instead of working when you start singing.”

“To be fair…” A smart ass grin curls up the corners of your mouth so that you don’t end up flustered With the compliment. Sarcasm is an old shield and good friend when it comes to flattery. For you at least. “That’s just a standard issue Sea Witch enchantment. Very susceptible to magic, your staff.”

“Sea Witch enchantment, huh?” He grins back at you. “You don’t look like I remember Ursula.” He teases. “And I loved The Little Mermaid when I was younger.”

“Makes sense.” That smirk of yours blossoms, ending up in a grin. “You’re a dead ringer for Prince Eric.”

“Me?” Zach shuffles, trying his hardest not to blush but he’s probably failing. “Hopefully I’m not as dumb as he was to not know the woman in front of his was his soulmate.”

“Neither of them had any scars,” you remind him, but the two of you seem locked in a trance for an unexpected moment before your smile widens and the fluttering in your chest deepens. “You’re cute when you blush.”

“Well, they were cartoons.” He snorts, flashing you another smile as he tries not to preen because you think he’s cute.

"So what would a scar for a cartoon character be, then?" The question makes both of you laugh and you shrug. "A tear in the page, I guess?"

“An interesting question.” He hums, picking up his drink and taking a sip of it as he watches you. Thinking that you look so young, so carefree in your relaxed clothes. He’s caught glimpses of you in your gorgeous gowns you wear on stage, but honestly prefers this look.

You laugh, shrugging it off, and don’t let yourself reflect too long on how silly you feel gazing at him across a damn stainless steel counter. “It’s a silly question. But thank you for humoring me.”

“Not silly.” He sets the food into two large pans and reaches for one of the serving carts. “Want to grab a stack of plates and we will go join the party with the food?”

“The least I can do is help if you’re going to feed us magic food.” The plates he points out are nearby, and you help him stack up the cart with everything that’s needed. It’s probably silly to feel like he trusts you by asking — you are right here, you’re the obvious and convenient person to ask — but somehow stacking plates and finding napkins and helping him make room for all of the containers of amazing food he’s made makes you feel…special. It’s silly, but you don’t want to banish the warm feeling in your chest anytime soon.

Zach is grateful you didn’t deliver his drink and just rush out. “Well, maybe everyone else will appreciate it, but you made it magic with your reaction.” Damn, maybe flirting isn’t as hard as he imagined it to be after so many years. Seems to come easy with you.

"I'm very glad you liked it." Maybe you do tend to be slightly pornographic with the sounds of enjoying food from time to time, but there's no reason to be embarrassed about that when you're literally flirting with a chef. In fact, maybe you should have been flirting with chefs all along.

He hums as he motions you towards the door to leave the kitchen first. “After you, madam.” He says playfully. “I will let you lead our procession.” It sounds gentlemanly, but he also gets the added bonus of watching your ass as you walk.

The second the kitchen door opens there is an explosion of sound, and honestly you had almost forgotten that there is a whole damn party going on out here. Keo has music playing but it’s only a matter of time before the band hits the stage again. It doesn’t matter that they just performed for passengers an hour ago. This time is for fun and for them.

“Time to eat!”

If there is one thing that Zach can count on, it’s that the crew will always swarm where there’s food. He grins at your wide eyes with everyone is instantly at the cart he rolled out and surrounding you.

You scurry out of the way with a loud, barked laugh, and practically hurtle yourself into the corner so everybody else can get their plates. You’ve had some already, served especially by the chef, and want everyone else to try the incredible bites that Zach made.

Glad he made plenty, Zach explains what each appetizer is and quickly serves up plate after plate of food. Grinning whenever everyone ‘ohs and ahhhhs’ over his food.

“Isn’t it insane?” He overhears you saying to Rick, nodding enthusiastically a few feet away over another one of the prime rib croquettes. The grin on your face has stretched wide, making you glow.

He puffs up with pride, knowing that it might be silly that you are gushing over his food, but it makes him preen. He straightens slightly as he finally gives out the last plate and can leave the cart to be picked clean by the vultures he calls co-workers.

It’s easy to get swept away from each other in the sea of silliness and general merriment, and before too long your bandmates have dragged you up on stage in an entirely predictable show of what happens when performers spend time with friends.

They always, always perform.

“How did we all end up working?” Zach snorts, although he’s got a drink in his hand and his seat is as close to the stage as he could get without being on it. He never gets this view and he doesn’t care that there’s not a perfectly synchronized light screw working or you aren’t dolled up. Just music and the love to entertain shines and he watches as you laugh and grip the microphone.

Slipping back to the piano one more time to consult with Shane, there is a confident grin on your face when you return to the mic and take it off its stand to be more comfortable on the small rectangle where you perform night after night. "Everybody has tested out Zach's new recipes and now we're going to test out a few new songs," you joke to your coworkers, though it is completely true and no one minds at all.

Zach claps on the table top, eyes glued to you and it’s amazing how warm he feels right now. Like the alcohol in his system has set him on fire.

"This is something Shane and I have been toying with in rehearsals." There is no need for long or fancy introductions to songs, not when you're just having fun, and you turn to Shane to make sure you're starting in time with each other. The first chord on the piano is done in tandem with the first lyric, and the jazz arrangement that you have been slowly working on together takes shape for an audience for the very first time. "My lover's got humor...she's the giggle at a funeral..."

Zach sips his drink, leaning forward slightly and not even noticing it. Eyes fixed on you and ignoring everyone else in the club as they fade into the background.

Take Me to Church is a hell of a good song to begin with, but tonight it takes on an unexpectedly plaintive tone. Like rather than the passionate promise of someone already with the lover in question, you’re asking to be allowed to be with them. Making your case as a potential partner. Or maybe it sounds the way it always has to everyone else and the fact that you keep looking back at Zach in front of you is making your brain fog over with lust…and if that’s the case it would be extremely reasonable…

Completely entranced by the sultry, plaintive tone to your voice, he’s haunted by the idea - the hope - that you are singing to him. Knowing that everyone who sits in your audience probably feels the same way, he watches the way your eyes roam around the room and then land on him for a split second. He knows logically that you are just being a good showman, but he wants you to have the same desire and yearning that has him nearly aching. Even if he’s not physically hard, thank god, because it would be so obvious - his body is lit up with need.

They tug on you like a rope anchored deep in your chest, those few moments of eye contact. They steal your breath and buckle your knees, and when was the last time you had it this bad for a guy you barely knew?

It’s a miracle or a mercy that Shane calls the next song, but you could kill him for the choice. The intro he plays is a well beloved favorite, but the message makes you ache.

Maybe this time I’ll be lucky…maybe this time he’ll stay…maybe this time for the first time…love won’t hurry away…

Your words pierce his soul and make him bleed. He would close his eyes, but he can’t risk losing the sight of you clutching the microphone and pouring your soul into the words. Making him swallow harshly and nearly start to cry from the emotions you are exposing.

The end of the song is a belt, twisting you up as the intensity rises further and further, until the final blow out has you feeling as wrung out as a wet rag and practically sagging at your mic stand. There are tears in your eyes that get dabbed on the sleeve of your sweatshirt and you turn around to grab your drink off the nearby stool with a ragged breath. “Gimme a second,” you mutter to Shane, wondering why — after singing that song a thousand times — this is the one that makes you feel like you have ripped your heart open and left it shattered on the floor.

Maybe this time I’ll win.

No. You know why. That lyric and the man in the front row. Dammit. You really are a fucking sucker when you like someone.

Zach leans forward, wiping his eyes discreetly and hoping he doesn’t look like a wreck. It’s be so goddamn long since he’s had hope. Not hope for his future, but for his heart. His time in the Marine Corps had changed the course of his future and for a long time, he had believed he didn’t have a future at all. Roaming the streets had a tendency to make you hardened towards the ideals of love and life.

“You good?” Shane murmurs from across the piano, vamping to give you time to breathe. Normally a consummate professional, you’re pretty good at holding off your emotions until you’re off stage. He wonders if this is why you never drink while you’re singing. If it makes it harder for you to focus.

“Yeah.” You nod, wishing he hadn’t gone straight for the emotional jugular. “Something more upbeat this time?”

“Sure thing.” Shane nods and immediately transitions into a catchy, fun song that had been last years summer theme song and converted to a supper club song.

This is more like it. A pop song. The rendition of Katy Perry's Roar would go over well with the teens or other daughters of passengers that got dragged out to the supper club because their parents like jazz, and it's a lot of fun for the fifth member of your band. Cliff is a sax player and a hell of a fun guy, but doesn't always get to shine during all of your songs. He's been pitching a cover of Careless Whisper that is going to be a crowd pleaser too. Shane is a hell of a band leader and is working with him to make it phenomenal. For now, Roar is another good place for Cliff to show off.

Shane makes a playful face while you start singing, remembering how he would have at one time hated this song on principle. He was a rotten little fucker, but he has straightened up and he can’t help but admit that it’s catchy. Especially with you singing it.

This is the tempo most people were hoping for. You can see that in the crowd. People react unconsciously to things that make them happy and the brightened faces and straighter backs of your friends and coworkers is obvious. You look over to flash a smile at Shane -- who you know can't believe you talked him into pop songs – and give him a nod. This is the way to go tonight.

There’s something to be said for the energy of the crowd. Zach looks around, the place isn’t packed but there’s more noise coming from the staff in the seats than most of the customers in here most nights. Although they are normally busy eating full course meals, they aren’t up dancing like some are now.

It makes it fun. It makes it easy to lose track of time and enjoy yourselves. And it makes it more fun to sing for people who are also making a party out of it.

The dancing and drinking goes on, the party hits a stride, and before long a few people are pairing off and heading out for the night so that the party inside the club starts to naturally wind down. You have no idea what time it is when you come down from the stage for the second time tonight, although it's much nicer to breathe deeply and have the atmosphere of good friends around you instead of the awkward curiosity of the guests.

“Well I have to say that you definitely beat me out for the best performance of the night.” Zach scrubs his hand on his jeans as he comes up to you with a cup of ice water for you.

"Hardly." You laugh though, cheeks warm just at the sight of him walking up to you. When he holds out the drink you practically awwe out loud. "That's very sweet of you, though. Um...both, I mean. The compliment and the water. Thank you."

“Have to stay hydrated.” He knows you had drinks while you were on stage, plenty of others delivered them to you, but they were of the alcoholic variety. “Are you still hungry after basically working again?” He asks, grinning at you in awe.

“Fun fact about me,” you tell him, greedily sipping the cold water for a minute and enjoying the way you can feel it run down your entire body. “I’m always hungry.”

“Is that like…your superpower?” He leans in and whispers it playfully, like he’s asking in confidence. “Kind of like Bruce Banner is always angry?”

Zach’s breath is so hot on your skin that you almost flinch, a warm roll of anticipation chasing the cold feeling of the water all the way through you. “Maybe,” you tease back. “You wouldn’t like me when I’m hangry.”

“Then I guess I need to keep you fed.” He snorts, the alcohol in his system making him a little more relaxed than before and it feels like this entire night has been one big dance to lead up to a ‘moment’.

“Good thing you’re very talented.” Fuck…what a terrible line. To avoid owning up to it, you take another sip of water.

He bites his lip at the compliment and watches as you fluster slightly. “Well, since it’s my duty to keep you fed, I guess you should be able to reach me, right?” He asks. “A bat signal for food?”

Instinctually, you’re about to refuse, until about two seconds later when you realize what he’s saying. What he’s offering you. And then the smile splitting your face open grows even wider. “I guess that would be good,” you tease him again and relish the feeling. How easy it is and how good it feels.

Zach pulls out his phone and opens it up to the messages to hand it over to you. “Here you go.” He offers, wondering if you are finding it a little cheesy how he’s basically asked for your number.

Typing your number into the top line, you tilt his phone away from him with a mischievous grin to type out a little message and send it to yourself. When your own phone dings in your pocket a second later, you pull it out and make a great show of reading the message before you react.

Gorgeous chef promises gorgeous singer to keep her fed and she promises to dedicate songs to him in return. Everybody wins.

“Why Zach,” you gasp playfully, one hand flying to your chest after you have his phone back. “You think I’m gorgeous? You flirt.”

Zach reads the message on his own phone and looks up at you for a moment. “And a little too self confident.” He practically giggles, butterflies swimming in his stomach at your description of him. “You’re gorgeous and you know it. Me? Not so much.”

“It’s all a costume. The hair, the make up, the gowns? All of that’s a mask to hide behind.” You may be dressed down right now, without your mask on and not ready to fight, but you know that that’s why you do it. Why you get dolled up every night. It’s not for the guests. It’s your armor. “I…was calling you gorgeous. Adding it for myself was just in case you didn’t mean this as flirting. I could say it was all a joke…”

He stares at you for a moment and shakes his head. “You look great right now. And I know you’re not in a gown or wearing a lot of makeup.” He points out. “So I meant what I wrote.” He tells you adamantly, even if you had technically written the text.

“And so did I.” Setting aside anything else, you add Zach’s name to your contacts and slip your phone into your pocket.

You let slip a yawn and he frowns. “It’s getting late.” It’s the early hours of the morning, and everyone has to be up soon to start the day over again. “Why don’t we get you a snack and get you to bed?”

“That is quite possibly the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me,” you tell him, grinning all over again. When your roommate calls out that she’s leaving you just tell her to go on. That you’ll catch up. You may be hoping a certain chef will walk you back, but you know he and Shane are housed on a different deck.

“So the way to girl’s heart is through her stomach too?” He turns back towards the kitchen and his hand hovers over your back again. “Interesting.”

Letting yourself be led by him is easy. Honestly it might be the easiest you’ve ever gone with anyone anywhere. “Anybody who claims they can’t be won over by a person who puts enough thought and care into to them that they craft a whole meal to take care of them with? Liars.”

He hums, smirking slightly as he guides you towards the refrigerators again. “What are you thinking you want to eat?” He asks, curious about your comfort foods.

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” you admit. His kitchen is so well stocked and his skills are so much more extensive than yours. “I basically survive on sandwiches if I have to feed myself.”

“So would you like a sandwich?” He asks. “I can make that happen.”

“Actually,” he sits you down on a stool at the counter and you feel a little dreamy just watching him move, but at least it’s honest. “That sounds amazing.”

He hums as he looks through the fridge and smiles. “Then I know exactly what I’m going to make you.” He starts pulling out ingredients.

“Did you…like any of the music?” It seems right to make conversation, especially since he is once again feeding you, and you are honestly curious. Any song he likes is going to get more play in the club, you can admit that to yourself plenty easily.

“All of it.” That answer comes easily and readily falls off his tongue. “I think you might be the best singer I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Oh come on.” The best you can do is a huff of disbelief so you don’t break out into nervous laughter, but your stomach flips and your whole body turns hot in pleased embarrassment. “You’re exaggerating.”

“No.” He shakes his head as he brings his treasures over to the counter to lay them out. “I’ve heard a lot of people. Some of the street singers came close, but you beat them all.”

Surveying him quietly, you don’t think too much about the comment on street singers since buskers are everywhere where you’re from. Instead you crack a self-deprecating smile. “Would you mind calling up some of the producers I’ve auditioned for and telling them that? I think I could use a spokesperson.”

“Give me their numbers.” Zach huffs. “Guaranteed in a few years you are headlining somewhere.” He tells you. “Vegas or something.”

"Then this is a perfect place to start." You motion to the ship around you. "Floating Vegas, if you will."

“It’s a good place to forget the rest of the world and all the problems there exists.” He agrees, methodically putting your sandwich together.

"And." Leaning forward on your elbows, you bite back your broad grin into something more flirtatious. "To meet gorgeous chefs."

He pauses for a moment, meeting your eyes and his own smile blooms over his face. “And sultry singers.”

For a moment you consider just trying your luck. Just leaning across the counter and kissing him and seeing what happens. But there is just enough of a hint of nervous in your system despite his red cheeks and hooded eyes that you hesitate, licking your lips and swallowing the lump in your throat. You can shoot your shot in a different way, without being too forward. Just in case.

"Would you..." There is blood pounding in your ears and you can't quite hear what you're even saying, but you press on. "Would you...want to go out sometime? With me, I mean? Like when we both have time off?"

Zach is stunned silent for a second before he remembers that he had to answer you out loud. He handed you the sandwich with a beaming smile. “I’d like nothing more.” He promises.

"Yeah?" Now you're both grinning at each other like idiots, and you nudge the plate between you accidentally before remembering he was just cooking for you like a damn culinary angel that dropped right out of the sky. The sandwich he made is a work of art, and you pick up one half before nudging the plate back at him to share. "Okay, um...just let me know when you have time off?"

“I’ll check the schedule and text you.” He smiles as you take your first bite and wonders how the hell he’s gotten so lucky.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Zach Wellison #Zach Wellison x female reader #Zach Wellison x you #Zach Wellison x f!reader #Brothers & Sisters #Shane Dio Morrissey #Shane Dio Morrissey x female OC #NYPD Blue #soulmate au #Soulmate Sunday #cruise ship au

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wardenparker · 15 days ago

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In the Still of the Night, ch 2

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Just more shameless flirting, a bit of self-consciousness, first date nerves and anxiety. Summary: Zach flirts with a specially cooked meal, you flirt with some specially chosen songs, and embarking on your first date brings a lot of shared nerves to overcome. Notes: It never takes me too long to fall in love with these new pairs but I just *adore* Zach and his soulmate so damn much.

Ch 1

If you take a little extra time and care in getting ready for your show the next night, who can blame you? A purple velvet gown and black satin gloves, shimmering rhinestone jewelry, red lipstick and your hair just so — you can tell yourself it’s all for the gig but the butterflies in your stomach know better. It’s because you’re excited to see Zach, even if you’re a little nervous too. Last night had been fun, and you hope that even in the harsh light of day that he thinks so too.

Zach couldn’t sleep last night. He was tired but then again, so energized by the entire night he had spent with you. Already on his third coffee by the time the prep cooks had come in from the breakfast shift – it was his off day from that – he had cleaned up from the night before and completely changed his idea for the specials of the night. All with you in mind.

“We should do something special tonight.” Is the suggestion you give to the band while you’re warming up, only to receive skeptical looks from three of the four guys.

“Special how?” Keo asks, twirling his drumsticks. It’s a habit, one formed before he could really walk since his father was also a drummer.

“Maybe a theme night?” The guys will bust you to no end if you admit that all you want to sing is love songs, but it’s true.

Shane is the only one that starts grinning, having witnessed the nearly moony, floating on air attitude of his roommate when he came back to the cabin last night. Or rather this morning. “How about some love songs?” He suggests slyly.

Working hard to sound nonchalant always backfires in the end, but you shrug (a little too performatively) and aim for a breezy tone when you agree. “Oh! Sure. Sure— I mean, if that sounds good to you guys.”

“Anything in mind?” Shane probes, seeing right through your little casual agreement and wondering how well the night went. You and Zach were in the kitchen for a long time.

“We could do some classics?” Waving one hand and pretending to think of things if the cuff, you’re determined not to admit you’ve had a few songs cycling through your head all day. “Maybe some Cole Porter? ‘Let’s Do It’ and ‘Let’s Misbehave’ always go over well.”

“Only if we add ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’.” Shane adds. “Diana loves it and I’ll send her the video tonight.” All the performances are recorded by the sound and lights crew for internal use and promotion reels for the supper club. She sometimes gets the videos of nights Shane is super proud of.

“Of course.” You’re quick to agree, mostly because it’s a song you all do well but also because you like Shane’s soulmate a lot. Diana is a badass and a sweetheart all at once.

“Sound good to you guys?” They will all add their own songs to the playlist before the night is over.

“That works.” Cliff is preoccupied with selling a new reed in his sax and shrugs. “Love songs usually get us better tips.”

“Then we will focus on the love songs.” Shane agrees. “Wonder what the chef is making for tonight? Hopefully something rich and sinful.”

“No clue.” You breeze right by the question as if you and Zach hadn’t talked about your favorite foods last night. As if you aren’t hoping just a little bit that he is thinking of you as much as you are of him.

“Hey chef.” Zach’s right-hand man, his sous chef, looks puzzled as he stares at the pans of cakes cooling on the stainless steel counters. “What’s all this?” Zach looks up from the sauce that he is simmering on the stove and beams. “Red velvet cake for the dessert tonight.”

"Hell of a left turn from ice cream." His sous chef observes, looking out at the seemingly endless counter of edible red sponge.

“Fits the rest of the menu.” Zach agrees. “I’ve changed all of it.” He waves towards the paper sitting on the table. “Tell me what you think.”

The menu written out on the wipe board is completely different than what was set out earlier in the week. In place of the popular shrimp scampi or chicken cordon bleu are the far more sumptuous options of a seafood stuffed salmon with cream sauce or a filet with a beurre blanc. The kitchen's traditional spinach salad has been scrapped for a strawberry balsamic salad instead, and the broccoli rabe or roasted potato options are now grilled asparagus or honey whipped carrots. It's a beautiful menu, for sure. But... "What prompted the change?"

Zach grins as he looks at the younger man. He’s handsome and already engaged to his soulmate back in his home country. “I was inspired.” Zach admits shamelessly. “Romance. This is a menu for romance.” He tells him. “I want the guests to be seduced by their meal.”

"Oh yes?" The younger man laughs, immediately dropping his towel on the counter and crossing his arms over his chest as he leans in that same place. "There is a lady?"

“No.” Zach shakes his head. “An angel.” He’s being completely ridiculous, but he can’t help it. He was asked out. On a date. By the most gorgeous woman he’s ever seen in his life. If that wasn’t inspiring, he doesn’t know what would be.

"Ooh la la!" The saucier, standing not two steps away, hears the seemingly magic words and perks up. "Only an angel? Not a goddess?" She teases. Zach might drive the staff hard but he is a good boss and well liked in his kitchen.

“Not quite yet.” Zach huffs and tries not to blush like a school boy.

"It's not a passenger, is it?" The kitchen is now buzzing with the gossip.

Zach’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. He’s heard of some crew risking their jobs for liaisons with passengers but he wouldn’t be willing to risk his future like that. “Absolutely not.” He huffs, appropriately horrified.

“Boss wouldn’t be that stupid.” Zach’s saucier defends.

He’s a little placated that they don’t believe he would do that. “But the point is, I want tonight to be special for our guests.” He bites his lip. “Check with the sommelier and see what wine and cocktail pairings we can come up with please?”

“On it!” Comes a call from a few feet away, and one of his staff that was just watching her hands disappears around the corner to track the sommelier down in his office.

Zach smiles, happy his staff works as a cohesive unit and can handle the occasional curve ball thrown their way.

They can always hear it in the kitchen when the band starts warming up. They may not have a speaker but the strains of music from the dining room are unmistakable regardless of being faint. Zach's sous chef has just about turned around to go back to work when he hears it and clocks the grin on his boss's face. "Oh damn."

“What?” He asks innocently, turning back to his sauce and trying to wipe the grin off his face, but it’s impossible.

"It's her, isn't it?" Nobody's missed the extra attention Zach pays to the singer of the club's band whenever she's performing, or the way he always wants to know if she liked her dinner, or the way he hums to himself a little along with the music. The last one they're not even sure he realizes he's doing, but they've all heard it.

“Let’s just focus on dinner.” He’s not avoiding the conversation, but maybe your feelings have changed since last night or the date you asked him on never materializes or goes horribly. This could fizzle out and then he will be stuck mooning over you and all his staff will know it.

Family meal is the same on a cruise ship, but plates of the dinner that is being served to the passengers always go out to the band when their warmups are over. Yesterday’s kerfluffle with one of the waitresses having an emergency and missing family meal isn’t repeated today and the plating of what will do out to the band is extremely intentional.

“This plate is to have both specials.” Zach instructs before he takes the plate himself. “Never mind, I will do it myself.”

His staff only exchanges smirks as Zach plates an exquisite dish with portions of each thing, and a tray is loaded with dishes to bring out to one of the tables in the dining room for the band to eat before service begins for the night.

Zach argues with himself about taking you the plate personally, but he had settled for marking it and giving clear instructions that that particular plate be given to you. He bites his lip as he wonders if you will like it before he inevitably has to get back to work.

The tray that comes out of the kitchen is laden down with heavy plates, and while you always love the smells coming out of the kitchen at the club they seem even better tonight.

“Oh yum.” Keo is the first to put eyes on the tray coming out of the kitchen, but only because you were forcing yourself to wait three settings before looking to see if it’s Zach bringing it your dinner.

It’s a disappointment when it’s not.

Rachel, a perky and charming Filipina, with a smile to match, comes to being your food. She makes a big show of the plates for the rest of the band, but she huffs and shoos them away when they approach your chaffer covered plate. “It’s special!” She huffs before bringing it over to you. “Zach said this plate was yours and yours alone.” She tells you with a wink. “Enjoy.”

"That's either ominous or adorable." Shane observes, watching you fluster and try not to giggle as you uncover your plate. "What the hell did you guys do last night?"

"It wasn't like that." You huff, rolling your eyes at him as you remove the cloche over your plate. But a second later you gasp and press one open hand to your chest in shock. "Oh...oh my god..." He did it...he actually did it... You think, absolutely astonished.

According to you, surf and turf is your dream meal, but you are bored by it just being shrimp and steak or steak and lobster. Stuffed salmon being a thing of beauty in your eyes and you had complained about mashed potatoes always being served with it. So Zach had worked his magic and come up with this menu especially for you.

"Rachel?" You hold the waitress up for just one second, with a beaming smile plastered across your face. "Will you please tell him it's perfect?" With your voice gone soft and dreamy, it probably makes the point all the more deeply. "And I can't wait to have every last bite."

“Dessert is under the other cloche.” She points out with a grin, happy to report back to the kitchen that you are just as enamored with Zach as he is with you.

With all four of your bandmates staring at you expectantly as Rachel walks away, you can pout for about three seconds but you're not going to be able to enjoy your meal without explaining yourself. "He asked me what my favorite meal was. My dream meal. And...I love surf and turf, but it's always the same old thing, ya know? And...he went and reinvented the whole thing." It's the most romantic thing you can possibly think of, honestly, to see the hard work and creative thought that he put into something you told him in the dead of night. He put a little piece of his soul into this meal and he did it just for you. It makes you want to run right back into that kitchen and find out if he kisses as thoroughly as he cooks.

“So…he just…whipped up your dream meal and you are gagging to sing love songs?” Shane whistles low. “You two have it bad!” He pumps his fist happily. “I knew it was a good idea to send you into that kitchen with his drink.”

"Shut up." It was an amazing idea, but you're not going to give the man who has become your adoptive big brother that much credit. It will go to his head. For now you just roll your eyes at him and pick up your fork. All four of them are looking at you expectantly though, and you pick up the first bite of stuffed salmon while throwing all of them a slightly guilty look. "I asked him out, okay? He's more than just ridiculously hot and incredibly talented."

The four men start to cheer, high five-ing each other because they know that is a huge step for you. “Good for you.” Rick tells you. “You deserve a little happiness.”

"Keep your fingers crossed for me that it goes well," you insist, pointing a finger at all four of them. Your tendency to accidentally tank first dates is well documented.

“Just don’t— uh, do you things.” Shane supplies unhelpfully with a grin.

“What the hell does that mean?” You huff, scrunching your nose at him.

“Well, how about you not pour scalding hot coffee on his crotch?” Shane suggests with a wince.

“Or not tell him you would make cute babies together.” Cliff adds.

“Those are two fucking extremes.” Keo snorts, apparently enjoying this impromptu roast.

“But she’s done them!” Shane cackles, shaking his head.

“And I was right both times.” You assert, though you’re still huffing a little for good measure. “The jackass who told me ‘singers are just modern prostitutes’ more than deserved scalding coffee on his crotch, and the sweet Midwestern guy would have made cute as hell babies.”

“Well, I’m sure if you tell Zach that you’d make cute babies together, the boy would probably combust.” Keo snorts. “He seems a little pent up, right Shane?”

Shane rolls his eyes. “He’s not hitting on passengers like your dumbass.” He reminds the other band member. “But Zach’s a good dude, he’s got his history, but I would never have encouraged our girl’s crush if I thought he wouldn’t be good for her.”

“Everybody has history,” you reason, though at the same time you entertain such a serious thought, you’re practically bouncing in your seat from how amazing this dinner is.

“I can’t throw stones, that’s for damn sure.” Shane isn’t sure how much Zach has told you, but it’s not his place to tell his story.

“Nobody can, man.” Cliff agrees. He and Shane go back far enough that he knows the other man’s demons well. And shares some of them, too. “Everybody gets a second chance around here. Sometimes a fourth or fifth chance.”

“Little boat of dreamers”. Cliff agrees, although the ship is far from little. Not as big as some of the mega cruise liners, she can still accommodate two thousand passengers.

"I'll drink to that," you agree, picking up your water glass in salute.

“So, what’s for dessert?” Shane asks, smirking slightly.

"Let's see." After a sip of water, you put your glass aside again and open the smaller cloche that the waitress had put int front of you. The slice of red velvet cake you reveal is immaculate with no colors bleeding between layers and a gleaming cream cheese icing gluing together moist red sponges. It looks like something out of a cookbook or a competition food show. It looks absolutely stunning.

And more than that, your expression softens instantly. "Red velvet is my favorite cake..." you admit quietly, flustered all over again.

Shane whistles, waggling his eye brows. “What did you do to that man last night?” He teases. “It musta been good good.”

"Nothing!" Even though you insist it, you can see the skepticism in your bandmates. "I swear, we didn't even kiss or anything! We just flirted a bunch and I asked him out. That's it."

“Didn’t even kiss.” Rick snorts. “Then that man has you up on a pedestal so high you can reach the fuckin’ moon, sister.”

******

You knew the night of love songs would go over well, but the reception you get from guests is truly exceptional tonight. People are responding with such enthusiasm that some are getting up to dance when they've finished eating. The rendition of 'Let's Do It' that your band does is upbeat and hopeful. People are moving in their seats and some are dancing, but everyone is enjoying themselves – but those aren't the reactions that mean the most to you tonight.

The man standing by the kitchen door is the one you've been looking out for tonight, and you flash a bright smile in Zach's direction when you manage to catch his eye.

This is for you in one simple smile.

Zach is utterly taken by you. The way you sway gracefully to the beat of the music and make every audience member think you are singing to them. He wants to believe you are singing to him, and his stomach erupts into a swarm of butterflies when you smile at him.

It’s a bright song, joyful and optimistic, and easy to get caught up in. When the final chord comes you’re nearly giggling with the floating sense of delight that dances across the music, and with Zach still standing by the kitchen door, you look back to the band. Shane gives you a nod and an affectionate eye roll because he knows exactly what you’re up to, but you don’t care. It’s halfway through the set anyway.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re going to take a short break,” you announce, and turn to pick up your water glass before hopping off stage to stride back toward the corner of the dining room.

Zach straightens up when he sees you walking towards him. Looking like vision, like one of those damsels in the gangster movies that were so popular when his grandpa was alive.

Confident right up until the last stride when you get nervous and end up grinning awkwardly. “Hey,” murmur, feeling silly all of a sudden.

“Hi.” He smiles at you and lifts a brow in admiration. “You have the entire crowd eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“They’re not the ones I care about,” you admit, though it feels awkward to say. When you’re up in front of them, the guests are everything. But…not tonight. “Dinner was incredible. I can’t thank you enough.”

“I was hoping you got to eat while it was hot.” He won’t admit that he was waiting to hear what you thought, because that should be obvious.

“Rachel brought it with very strict instructions.” Which you still think was cute as hell. A little thought goes such a very long way. “It was absolutely perfect. Thank you. Really.”

“Wanted you to have something you enjoyed.” He knows that you enjoy his meals, but this one was specially for you. “Took a look at my schedule.”

“Yeah?” Excitement makes your heart jump up into your throat.

“Yeah.” He shuffles slightly. “I’ve got the overnight port day next week.“ One port of call is all day and overnight, not departing until the next morning to give the passengers a chance to experience the nightlife.

“Me too.” Your head studied your schedule and memorized it so you could actually fix this date, and knowing instantly makes it so worthwhile. “Want to go traipsing around an old palace in Crete with me?”

“Is that what you want to do?” He asks, knowing he will be happy to spend any time doing anything with you. “I think we are allowed to book some of the tours.”

“I looked up what the excursions were,” you admit, wondering if that sounds too cringey somehow. That you were so excited you just had to look it up. “You know…in case we were able to go? It’s the tour of the old palace and an olive oil maker. I thought both sounded like fun, so whatever you want to do.”

“Olive oil?” That immediately piques his interest and he grins. “The olive oil we can get here is soooo much better than the shit in the states.” He chuckles.

“Why don’t we do both, then?” Being surprised that Zach is interested in something food related is like being surprised the sun has risen, but you don’t mind. It would be fun to learn something with him. “And maybe we can get lunch in between? Our first date would be a whole day but that sounds nice to me.”

“Only if you let me buy you lunch.” Being able to pay for things is one of his biggest joys and one of the things that he is proudest of. Especially now that he’s learned to adapt his food insecurity from his time on the streets into something that brings him in a steady paycheck and joy.

“If you insist.” You’re not above enjoying a treat, but since you did ask him, you’ll take care of all the arrangements and any other costs. That only seems fair.

“Zach.” The door behind him swings open. “There’s a request for another main course.” He turns around and nods before looking back at you. “Break a leg, sweetheart.” He grins. “That’s what you say right? Never understood it. Your legs are too pretty to break.”

“What, these old things?” It’s just a little joke to go along with the flattery, but to pull up the skirt of your dress just enough to show a little of one calf and toss him the biggest, flirtiest wink. “Go knock ‘em dead, chef.”

“You are wicked.” He snorts, smirking back at you and nodding before he disappears back into the kitchen, that brief glimpse of skin almost too enticing.

******

The week goes by at nearly a crawl. Every night has repeats of this one, where Zach makes stunning meals and you sing deeply pointed songs. By the time the morning of your excursion-date finally arrives, River is rolling her eyes at you and practically shoving you out the door of the room you share because she's sick of hearing you giggle at your phone at all hours. Texting Zach has become a serious habit.

‘Meet me at the gangway’ is the text that flashes across his screen, making him grab his wallet, his sunglasses and move to put on more deodorant. Crew can get off the ship ten minutes before the passengers, so you had both agreed to start the day off as early as possible. “See ya!” He calls to Shane who is still in the shower.

"Don't desecrate any monuments!" Shane calls back, figuring Zach probably hasn't heard him. The kid has had such tunnel vision about this day that he doesn't think anything could penetrate his skull long enough to deter him from meeting you. Which is sweet, actually. It's nice to see his friends excited. "Have fun!"

The door is already slamming shut and Zach makes a beeline for the stairs. Khaki shorts, a plain white t-shirt that is brand new and comfortable sneakers is what he has ultimately decided on. Plain but decent.

You're up on deck checking your purse for the fourth time when you catch sight of him coming your way, and it's a good damn thing that you're wearing sunglasses so he can't see you ogling him from fifteen yards away. You're glad you didn't dress up too much when you see him -- the same basic outfit of sneakers, shorts, and a shirt works for both of you -- but what's plain on him lets his natural good looks shine through and heads are turning as he walks your way.

“Hey.” Zach lights up when he sees you. You look amazing in a pair of black shorts and red shirt, both of you having the same idea of comfort over high fashion. “You look amazing.”

"You're not too bad yourself." Instinct has you moving to give him a hug, and even though it's the first time you've done that it seems to be welcome.

You smell incredible. Thats the first thing that he’s thinking as he holds you against his own body for far too brief a moment before you are pulling away. “All set?” He asks. “Have to admit I’ve been looking forward to this.”

"I have been, too." He's even more fit that he looks if that brief hug is any indication, and your damn mind if going to be wandering the whole day now that you know that. "We're all set. I even got a few recommendations of places for lunch from River. She's been through here before."

“That’s good, I’ve been researching this port every night to find out all I can.” He wants to offer to hold something as you dig your crew card out of your purse, but he doesn’t.

It takes a second but you manage it, and before too long you're on your way. The deep instinct to reach out and hold his hand is already there but you don't want to seem pushy, so you settle for walking side by side until the urge is mutual.

“It’s a gorgeous day.” Zach observes, blinking against the bright light after coming off the ship. You’ve been scanned out and you don’t have to be back on board until thirty minutes before departure tomorrow morning. Although you’ll probably both be back on board well before then. “I was hoping for clear skies.”

"If it stays like this, we can walk everywhere and spend time sitting out on the beach." It's been a week of daydreaming about every romantic scenario you could think of, and sitting with him on the crystal clear beaches overlooking the ocean as the sun went down was very high up on the list.

He flashes you a quick smile. “That sounds good.” He agrees, although he’s had plenty of days where he’s spent time sitting and staring out at the horizon for very different reasons than a day with a beautiful lady.

A whole day off together is a hell of a first date. As much as you have been looking forward to it you're also a little nervous. You can't remember the last time you went on a good first date and you've realized this week that this crush you have on Zach is big and deep and could easily become so much more. Just thinking about it makes you more nervous, which unintentionally makes you quieter.

“So- uh, I’m -“ Zach trips over his words until he snorts at himself and looks over at you with a rueful grin. “I’m nervous as hell.” He admits.

For a second your eyes widen in surprise, then you burst out into a moment of relieved giggles that you can barely smother. "Oh, thank god," you manage through the laughter. "I felt like an idiot being nervous when we see each other every day, but if it's both of us? That's so much better."

Zach snorts, chuckling himself and shaking his head at the two of you. Both of you sweating bullets over this date. “Well now we have to relax.” He tells you.

“Sure, sure.” The most serious nods of your head you can summon still end up punctuated by a laugh. “Because forced relaxation always works.”

He hums. “Yeah, that’s about the time I’ll trip over my shoelaces and push you into the ocean.” He jokes. “Or some of the dumbest, most random and horrifying shit will pop out of my mouth and I will have to quit my job and move to the moon to make sure I never accidentally run into you again.”

“Well, I’m a very strong swimmer and I promise I say dumb shit too. All the time.” By the time the two of you are off the ship with both feet firmly in the island, you offer Zach a self-deprecating shrug. “I’m in my own head because of some shit the guys said. I just…really like you. So I don’t want to fuck this up by accident.”

“What did they say?” Zach’s shoulders instantly tense and even though you just said you didn’t want to fuck this up, his mind races as he wonders if Shane has told you about his past. His stomach twists in the anticipation of rejection when you ask if he was really homeless.

“Not to be so me.” You roll your eyes. “I have a tendency to make my mind up about people pretty quickly and don’t mind voicing it. Shane, like the surrogate big brother he is, told me to try to chill the fuck out.”

“What’s wrong with that?” He frowns. “Having good people instincts is a good self-preservation skill.” He snorts.

“That’s what I think!” And it’s a fucking relief to be agreed with, if you’re honest. “But apparently pouring hot coffee on people who act like assholes is bad manners.”

He barks out a laugh. “Nahhhhh.” He shakes his head. “People don’t get corrected anymore on their behavior and it’s sad.”

“I could not agree more.” You’re both laughing, letting the tension and the nerves melt away. “I just…I guess first dates are hard for everyone.”

“This is my first date in….a long time.” Zach admits, sliding his hands in his pockets to cover up how his shoulders automatically inch up in self-consciousness. “So I won’t be judging you at all.”

“Well I count myself very lucky that you said yes, then.” To your way of thinking, there is no way that Zach lacks options. He must just be picky. And if that’s the case then you’re even happier that he agreed to this.

He chuckles and his hand comes out of his pocket, making him roll his eyes at his own little tells and he offers you his hand. “So we don’t trip and fall unless it’s together?” He offers playfully.

“Sounds perfect.” It’s almost silly to think, as you fit your hand into his, that that may very well have already started to happen. And you can’t help wondering if it has for him too.

******

It takes about an hour to meet up with your tour group and get loaded up on the buses to the ruins. Some of the other tourists are from the ship, but there’s a sense of anonymity that you are enjoying and Zach smile as you pull out your phone for pictures.

With your hand still tucked in his, you walk through the ancient ruins of the palace and practically sigh, imagining the lives that must have been lived in these halls. Talking about the songs sung, the food eaten, the stories told for hundreds of years. It had the air of a dream, one that swirls around you and seems to pull you closer at every turn.

“You just get this feeling, don’t you?” Zach asks in awe. “The history of this place. It’s seeped into the stones, into the dirt under our feet.”

“It’s everywhere.” And you hold his hand a little tighter, like the excitement is making you giddy but that’s actually mostly him.” Like how many other couples have walked this specific hallway, ya know?”

“Forbidden lovers, newlyweds, fights of passion, declarations of love.” Zach hums.

Something inside you makes you beam, and you laugh again softly. “First dates?”

“I’m not sure?” He chuckles. “Did they have first dates back then? I can’t imagine too many people choose Crete as a first date.”

“Well that’s a shame.” You frown, looking directly at him rather than all around you. “The view is great.”

“Agree completely.” He squeezes your hand gently. “Best view in the house.”

“I’m glad…” Even shrugging slightly, you can feel tie cheeks heating up for at least the third time today. “I’m glad you don’t think I’m cheesy. Or…that you at least accept it.”

“I’m not lactose intolerant.” He teases. “Cheese is one of my favorite things.”

“Oh, so you might actually be worse than me.” That is a delightful surprise, making you lean in closer to his side as you walk along the halls.

“Easier to be cheesy than giving into depression and anger.” He tells you honestly. “I have at least one thing to be grateful for every day.”

"That is a remarkably healthy outlook," you agree, admittedly impressed with the focus of it. Shane has hinted that Zach has some demons in his past but not revealed any of them. "I have to give you a lot of credit. I wasn't nearly that positive when shit was hard."

Zach shrugs. “I’ve been as low as I could possibly get.” He admits. “Everything looks up from there.”

"Everything might not be coming up roses, but at least things are getting better." They are for you, too. Hopefully, at least. You were in a pretty rough place when you and the band took this cruise ship gig and going back to dry land is something you're dreading. But that isn't a thought to dwell on. Not today. So instead, you change the subject. "Do you like flowers?"

“I do.” He nods, grinning and shrugging again. “They are pretty and smell good.” He squeezes your hand. “Like you.”

Maybe he is just as cheesy as you, you think, but you don't mind at all. Instead you're both grinning again as you make your way around another corner in the ruins of Knossos Palace. For once, there is a small amount of privacy and shade. The beating sun is lovely and bright, but also very warm. "Tell me something." The of your nerves isn't a mystery. You've caught yourself looking at his lips for the thousandth time this week and wondering if they feel half as soft as they look. You have to shake it off though, and not be so goddamn pushy. You don't have to kiss on the first date. There's no rule about it. Even if you really fucking want to, he might not. And you like him enough to be okay waiting. So you stick to that subject change hard. "Anything at all."

There’s so much he can tell you, so much he has to tell you if you make it past this first date. But he doesn’t want to make things too heavy. “I hate beets.” He tells you seriously.

Maybe you shouldn't be surprised that it's food oriented, but the vehemence of his answer takes you aback and makes you laugh all at once. "Okay. Beets are the enemy. Got it." Have you ever even eaten a beet before? Could you pick one out of a line up? Who knows. But they're the enemy now.

Zach grins along with you and starts to swing your arms between you lightly. “What about you? What deep dark secrets can you reveal on the first date?”

"Deep dark secrets, huh?" Pretending to think for a long moment, you hem and haw dramatically before you break down into a giggle again. It's nothing groundbreaking, though you debate actually telling him something serious. This doesn't seem like the time for that. At least not to you. "I hate sleeping in more than underwear," you admit, biting back a grin.

He nearly stumbles over the gravel, choking out a cough. Eyes wide and he gives you an almost comical look. “I— fuck!” He huffs. “I’m supposed to just sit on that?”

That grin you were holding on to blossoms wide and mischievous, and you can't help but feel just a tiny bit pleased with yourself for getting a big reaction out of him. "Well, ideally?" You tilt your head, aiming that grin at him. "I would be sitting on you."

“Oh god.” He grunts, closing his eyes and mouthing a small prayer. “Jesus.”

"Too much?" It feels like it might have been, and you can just hear Shane's voice in your head telling you that he told you so. "I—um—sorry. I just...forget I said anything."

“No.” He squeezes your hand in his as you try to pull away. “No, I can’t forget that, I just—” He opens his eyes and swallows. “I’m trying to be a gentleman and not be saluting everyone that walks by us.”

"I'll reel it in," you promise, though now you can see the flush of pinkish-red going all the way from his forehead down to his cheeks and throat and disappearing under his t-shirt. It just makes you a little desperate to know if he blushes all the way down to his chest or not. "But...you're still cute when you blush."

“I am?” He was so sure that you would be either amused or annoyed that he would react like that. He arches a brow in surprise.

“I have never told you anything but the truth.” And you plan to keep to that. If you actually want to consider this more than just a possible fling, it’s mandatory.

“I guess that I’m cute when I’m embarrassed.” Zach snorts. “And you’re pretty when you’re being mean.” He sticks his tongue out at you playfully.

“How am I being mean?” Sure you’re teasing him. That’s undeniable. But it’s not like you’re dangling a carrot in front of his face that you never intend on letting him devour.

He cuts his eyes before he rolls them. “You are funny.” He snorts.

“I know I tease.” You’re not completely blind to your own behavior. “But I guess it’s not ‘toned down’ to tell you that coming on too strong and scaring people away is a very me thing to do. Which just makes Shane right. And he can never know that.”

“I don’t mind it at all.” He promises. “I just— I want to make sure that I don’t make a fool of myself.” He believes that this is going to be intense, and yet he wants to make it perfect. “I have a lot of respect for you.”

"I have a lot of respect for you, too." In the plethora of people you have dated, that is such an unexpected thing for him to say that you actually stand up a little straighter. "But I think...being emotional and vulnerable...making a fool of yourself is inevitable at some point, isn't it? Maybe that's why I tend to do it with such reckless abandon."

“I don’t know if you could ever be a fool.” He argues. “You wear your heart on your dress.” He tells you. “That’s why your audiences love you so much. It’s you on that stage beneath the hair and makeup and fancy dresses.”

"I'm...also wearing my heart on my sleeve right now," you point out gently. "And am kind of making a fool of myself in the process. But that's okay. It's just part of being human."

Oh. Zach stops, turning to face you right at the entrance to the ancient courtyard. The pillars standing guard as he searches your face for a moment before he is cupping your cheek. “Then I’m a fool too.” He promises, leaning in to press his lips gently to yours like he’s imagined doing all morning.

The little sound of relief and pleasure you make might have been embarrassing if anyone nearby had paid attention, but you also don't care at all. Zach's broad form bends when he leans in and blots out the sun even before your eyes fall shut. He doesn't push too deep and it doesn't last more than a few seconds, but you can feel something inside you start to glow when Zach kisses you. Like he found a light switch that you never knew wasn't flipped to the right position.

When you pull away, Zach is smiling, feeling the way you melted against him. “That was…amazing.” He hums quietly.

“I couldn’t agree more.” You sound dreamy and soft, but since you feel dreamy and soft it seems appropriate.

He leans in and kisses you once more, this time even quicker than before. “Then let’s be fools together.”

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

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