Taste of Iron

Seventeen: Pinky Promises Are Sacred

Seventeen: Pinky Promises Are Sacred

Emil watched as Atlas took a step towards him. Then another. And then another, until he could feel the other man's breath on his face. They were so close, it was everything that Emil wanted yet he felt frozen. His mind was screaming at him but he couldn't move a single muscle.

So Atlas did the work for them. He kept his hand on Emil's cheek, tilting his head as his eyes dropped down to the crime boss's lips. Atlas grazed Emil's bottom lip with his thumb, and the brunette felt like his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

He couldn't believe that this was finally happening. This was everything that he had ever wanted, and he was finally getting it.

Atlas leaned forward.

Their lips were less than an inch away.

This was it. This was the moment.

But then Atlas grabbed Emil's jaw, turning his face to the side as he licked Emil's cheek. Emil's eyes widened in shock at what the chef was doing as he repeatedly ran his tongue up and down his face.

"Wha—" Emil woke up with a slight jolt, his heart racing as he came face to face with Fried Rice, who was sitting on top of his chest. She meowed loudly as the crime boss tried to catch his breath.

Huh.

So it was his cat licking his face, and not the man he had a crush on.

"You stupid, beautiful cat," Emil muttered, sighing as he ran his hand over Fried Rice's head, making her purr in approval.

Emil stared up at the ceiling as he thought of Atlas and what the man had done to him as a 'thank you'. The gangster couldn't believe that he was getting so worked up over a goddamn kiss on the cheek. He wasn't in middle school. But then again, Emil felt butterflies in his stomach even when Atlas as much as glanced at him. So a kiss was enough to make Emil melt inside out completely.

Emil picked up his phone from the bedside table, mumbling a quiet 'fuck' as he saw the time. He must've snoozed the alarm because he was almost an hour late. He quickly stood on his feet and started getting ready to go to the restaurant, eager to see the man of his dreams. With a kiss on Fried Rice's forehead, he was off.

Lunch service was about to start by the time Emil reached the building, which was why he was surprised when he didn't find Atlas anywhere in the kitchen. He asked Denise, who told him that Atlas had stepped outside for a minute. Emil, without a second thought, walked out to the back alley to see what the head chef was up to.

"—and where is Trent?" Atlas spoke, massaging his temples as he leant against the wall, looking down at his shoes. "He fucking got fired again? Damnit... I'm sorry for cursing... But where is he then? Yeah, yeah of course... how would you know... and Damian? Has he gotten out of his room yet?... What about food? Has he eaten?"

Emil frowned, immediately feeling guilty as he clearly walked into what seemed like a very private conversation. The door closed shut behind him, startling Atlas as he flinched. He looked up, his eyes meeting Emil's. The crime boss noticed Atlas get visibly more tense as he straightened his posture, his expression shifting from worried to angry.

"Look, Hannah, I'll call you in a bit, okay? Just wait for mom to get back home. And keep calling Trent. Text me if anything happens, yeah?" Atlas said. "Okay. Bye. Take care, please. And tell Oliver to do his homework, if I get a call from his school again then I'm going to come back just to whoop his ass."

Atlas slid his phone into his pocket, staring at Emil and looking really, really pissed off. The crime boss raised his arms in defense, not liking the way that Atlas was glaring at him.