[nomad ain't mad]
"Go get lunch, Pete," Peter parrots mockingly, slouching down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and face twisted up in a faint jeer.
Part of him can't believe he's been sent away on an errand, while another part is relieved to get some distance from the frankly disturbing amount of intensity at the office. All day Masen has been walking around with this dumb constipated look on his face, his ear attached to a bluetooth speaker as he talks at someone - probably an investor, one of the ones that stupid Denali Corp. is trying to steal away so they can pressure Midnight Sun into brokering an exclusive contract to essentially steal Pagan Immortals. Which, no thanks, not happening. Masen is at the helm, because that's what he does, but it doesn't mean its been exactly pleasant. While Masen has been rattling off numbers and figure and fuck knows what else that Emmett passes to him, Peter has done his best to keep his head down and stay out of the way.
But, can anyone really blame Peter if he was getting bored? There's only so much coding one man can do, and anyway, all of his projects and tasks are already done. Granted, he probably could have done something other than write a quick program that loads lewd images onto Alistair's screen every time he tries to use a specific tool on his animation screen - but is that really a reason to treat him like this, to shoo him away to go get food?
No, it isn't. Peter is offended.
Like, he deserves to be punished, because he was being a dick, but being sent out for lunch like some gopher? He's not an intern! He's a founding partner!
Well. Okay. Midnight Sun doesn't have interns yet, can't really afford them what with how Masen had been so adamant on giving everyone good healthcare - not that that's a bad thing! - so it isn't as if they could have sent an intern out. And even if they did have an intern, it's not like Peter would be treating them shitty and giving them useless tasks, because he's been on the other side and he hated it. But still! They could have used GrubHub or something!
Peter kicks at a empty coke can, frowns as it skitters across cement, and then hurries to go pick it up, dropping it in the nearest trash can.
He recalls the cold stare Masen gave him after Peter undid his prank, and the quick out that Emmett gave him - go get lunch, Pete - to spare Peter from Masen's stress-induced wrath. He reconsiders his objections.
Better to be outside on a totally legitimate errand than on the receiving end of Masen's dead-eyed glare. In fact, he's glad he's out of the office-slash-home! He needed some sun away. Vitamin D is good. Peter doesn't want scurvy - which he can definitely, like, probably get if he stays indoors too much. Or something. It works like that, right?
Whatever.
The point is, Peter is pleased as fucking punch to be skipping out on another boring work day. This is, like, a field trip for him. Totally.
Peter's feet take him to his new favorite place for grub, a wide grin stretching across his face as he sees the NOMAD food truck open and ready for business. There aren't a lot of customers either, because it's closer to two than noon, which means they'll have plenty of time to prepare the huge-ass order he has to bring back.
Peter darts across the street and up to the menu hanging right beside the order window, written in chalk. Russian street food is the theme of the day. Cool. It smells amazing. Peter's mouth is already watering.
He calls out the order, surely and shamelessly butchering the foreign words. "Hey! Yeah, uh, can I get like, I don't know, a dozen each of the uh, cheburek and pirozhki? Whatever fillings you have is fine - oh, uh, accept no shellfish if that's an option! Don't want to kill anyone!"
Peter laughs at his own joke - and, hey, isn't he a thoughtful friend even when said friend doesn't deserve it? - but his laughter trails off when a newly-familiar face steps into view from the truck's side window.
It's the guy from last time, the cool waiter! He's just as cool-looking as before, all lean muscles bunched into a black t-shirt and smooth sandy skin with dark sculpted scruff. Cool Waiter is just too objectively good looking with those tea-colored eyes and a wavy undercut the color of dark chocolate. Peter didn't even know people this hot actually existed. Even Masen, who is definitely the best-looking person Peter has ever known until this very moment, doesn't hold a flame to Cool Waiter.
This is true even if Cool Waiter is still staring at him with a kind of scowl. Peter figures it's just his face, the heaviness of his brow and the narrowed intensity of his eyes. He's got nice lips, Peter notes. Balances everything out nicely.
"Do you want anything else?" Cool Waiter asks after a moment, still just staring at Peter.
Peter glances at the menu again and scratches his head. "Uh…Like, honestly, I don't even know what this stuff is. I mean, I can Google it, but…" Peter smiles up at Cool Waiter. "You know what? I trust you! Give me whatever."
Cool Waiter nods solemnly, then starts to duck out of view.
Peter practically throws himself halfway into the truck window, craning his neck to get a good view of the kitchen inside, the stainless steel counters lined with food and stuff. Cool Waiter is the only one there, which makes Peter blink rapidly. "Hey, wait! Are you cooking?"
It's kind of a stupid question, because now that he's looking, he can see Cool Waiter is wearing a black apron and wielding an impressive knife over a cutting board. Cool Waiter doesn't say anything. Luckily, Peter is well-versed in weighted silences because of Masen, so he get's what Cool Waiter means.
Peter's smile turns sheepish. "It's cool that you cook."
"Own."
Peter's face scrunches up. "Huh?"
Cool Waiter waves the knife around - is that safe? - to gesture to the interior of the food truck. "I own this. It's mine."
Peter's eyes widen in realization and he slaps a hand down on the counter. "Ah! So you're the one responsible for all the orgasmic food!"
The next chop of the knife is a touch too loud, the grip almost faltering. Cool Waiter - no, no, this guy is totally Hot Chef - stares at Peter, mouth open just a little, before he clears his throat and grunts something that sounds like confirmation.
"This is so great," Peter says brightly. "You know, this is the best food I've ever had in my life - I'm not even kidding. At home, nobody does anything but order-in, because wow can nobody in my family operate a stove. You should see the disaster at Thanksgiving, man, I'm telling you it's not pretty. And, like, dining hall food has nothing on this. You've got some skills, man."
"Thanks."
Peter keeps prattling along happily, watching as Hot Chef prepares a veritable feast for Peter to cart back to the office. The speed and obvious skill is so impressive, even beyond the incredible aroma of all this fried dough and fuck knows what else. Are those mushrooms? Peter doesn't know and he doesn't care. He's happy enough to watch Hot Chef cook and fill the silence, glad that he's the only customer right now.
"Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday," Hot Chef says after he's rung up the total and passed four totally loaded paper bags through the window.
Peter stops. "Huh?"
"The days I do the cooking," Hot Chef says. "Other days, it's someone else. But those are my days."
Peter grins with great enthusiasm. "Thanks, man! I'll keep that in mind! We're a new company around here, so, like, we're probably about to be your best customers."
Hot Chef bobs his head. He, oddly, doesn't look at Peter as he continues, and Peter chalks up the red cheeks to the heat of the truck's kitchen.
Peter goes on his way after leaving a respectable tip. Hot Chef is such a nice guy, he thinks. Really cool, much cooler than all my other dumb friends.
And after Peter tastes the delicious food, he vows to visit NOMAD on everyday when Hot Chef is the sole cook. He doesn't want to eat anything else ever again, it's that good. In fact, it's so good that Peter can easily ignore all of Masen's tension for the rest of the day.
Honest. He won't even tease him about Bella Swan! Well, at least until the next day!
A/N: Oh Peter. Don't mind me, I'm just dropping by to tend to the tertiary plot so it bears some juicy fruit! Expect the next actual chapter next weekend!
Ahhh, but as a side note - this story is obviously touching on a lot of conversations that are happening in the world right now. If you have any social issues that you think should be included in the story, feel free to mention it to me. Like I said at the start, part of this story is examining the way the younger generation handles themselves, because Millennials and Gen Z kids care about a lot of the things already mentioned in the story. If you feel that something else can be touched on, please let me know and I'll do my best!
As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay smart, and stay inside!
~Rae
