A/N: Dying rn, I'm actually so sorry for the slow af updates-

Vincent could barely process any of this- yet in the slowed moment, he felt he didn't need to. 

His body, mind, and heart had sprung to life again the moment Rody had touched him, and he was already on cloud nine feeling the Waiter's lips locked onto on his. Where they belonged.

Oh God- how did he not allow himself indulgence sooner when it was so clear to him now that it felt so right? It had to be right.

And before Vincent himself even understood everything going on at the moment, he found his arms wrapping around Rody's neck, and with an intensity and feral desire he didn't even know he possessed in him, he pulled Rody impossibly closer. Even when their bodies were pressed flush against each other, their uniforms feeling like a stuffy, unnecessary barrier between them- he still wanted more. Rody was kissing him, holding him, like he had only ever dreamt of- but he wanted more. It was all too much and far from enough at the same time.

He had a million unspoken questions that he didn't want answered, not now. Right now, he wanted Rody closer, kissing him harder, loving him with more desperation and passion than there already was in the heated moment.

And Rody did just that.

It seemed like the kiss lasted forever and for a fleeting moment all at once--Rody's lips were at first gentle on his, then the slight tensity and hesitance was lost in raw wanting. Vincent had never wanted anyone more in his life, because it was more than wanting--he was desperately, utterly, and maybe not-so-hopelessly in love with this man. As their lips moved against each other, both of them hungry for more so much so that air was a minor concern at the moment, Rody's arms snaked around Vincent's waist, pulling him closer in the moment of intimacy. 

Suddenly, things felt much too urgent.

The makeout session was sloppy and needy- but as much as Vincent's last necessity was air in the bubble they had enclosed themselves in, shutting the world around them out- they had to cease their hunger for a moment, eventually. Vincent gasped for breath, as did Rody, when they pulled away in the slightest simultaneously, a string of saliva connecting their kiss-swollen lips. Their eyes met, and Vincent could daresay the amount of blood that shot downwards when he saw the Waiter's flushed expression and eyes filled with pure, unrestrained need, desire- and love- could almost compare to how much he wanted Rody. It truly made him wonder what took so long for this to happen when it felt like he had been waiting his entire life, just for this.

With the way they both looked at each other, everything that had to be said was exchanged through their eyes. To both the men's inexplicable excitement and delight, what they both wanted so dearly was mutual- and clear.

So, wordlessly, Rody pulled him in again- and Vincent more than happily complied, holding the back of Rody's head with his hand as they guided each other through their first real kiss- with a bit more patience and passion this time as their lips moved against each other in a languid, slow dance. Vincent's tongue delved into Rody's mouth, mapping out every inch, and their fingers found their way to each other, intertwining like two lost puzzle pieces that found their way home. Finally.

Rody backed Vincent up until the back of his knees gently hit against his chair, the two men sinking onto the plush cushions of the office seat, their mouths never leaving the other in this midst of it. Despite the fact that he'd never admit the rate at which his heart was racing right now, Vincent would've been more than content to sit here for hours, with Rody above him, his hands making the redhead's even messier, his mouth being kept satisfied with the Waiter's lips. Their tongues brushed against each other, mutual love laden into the moment- and Vincent knew from then that he truly had not known the definition of feeling complete until now. 

With the entire world frozen around them, Vincent wanted more, so much more- yet a part of him, the part of him that won over his mind in the moment- was fine with taking this at any pace, as long as Rody's hands stayed on his body.

He had admittedly fantasized about what Rody's lips would taste like before. He had expected more than sweet, of course, but the burst of flavor as soon as they met his was nearly incomprehensible, the first thing he had ever tasted. How long had they been making out, anyways? Several minutes, perhaps almost half an hour? Time seemed insignificant at the moment. The rough intensity and passion of the slow yet such fast-paced kiss, perfectly blended in with just the right about of tenderness- was all he could put into words at the moment to describe the taste of the Waiter's lips. His Waiter's lips.

If there was anything in the world that could be everything needed to convince Vincent that every fucking aspect of this moment was alive, real, and right- it would be Rody's lips against his. Oh, he had never tasted anything sweeter, it was nearly dizzying- and that spoke volumes considering he couldn't taste at all.

It was even better than lemons. God, he never wanted to leave.

Everything else faded away slowly, and in the best way possible. For the first time in probably his entire life, Vincent forgot about his bistro, his customers- nothing mattered. Nothing but Rody. And just as fast as the atmosphere had changed initially, he suddenly felt much too needy. Surely he could easily ask one of the cooks- Aimé, perhaps- to take over taking the orders and serving for the day. It was almost time to clock out, anyways.... 

'Merde'. He was too desperate. Couldn't he have Rody in his room, hold him in his arms and feel him in the closest way possible by now?

So he purposefully broke the kiss, Rody groaning softly at the sudden deprivation of mouth-to-mouth contact. However, the Chef made sure their faces were still close enough so he could see the light, barely noticeable and utterly beautiful freckles dusted across Rody's cheeks, along with the flushed color, and feel his hot breath coming out through short gasps. 

His eyes urgently roamed over Rody's face appreciatively, and neither spoke a word. Perhaps it was a silent agreement exchanged through the glances, or it was just their closeness affecting them in measure they hadn't expected. Either way, it was the kind of silence that wasn't awkward, but rather seemed to bring the other even closer.

Yet it wasn't close enough, and both Vincent and Rody knew that all too well.

During that stretched moment, the world was silent, even though outside the office there were faint sounds, muffled by the closed door, of the chattering customer and bustling energy of the kitchen- constantly in work, even if the moment between the two men had everything paused.

That was the way life went, wasn't it? Nothing really paused for anyone or gave someone special moments of individuality- everything kept running. In life, and in the kitchen of La Guele de Saturne.
But Vincent had always pretended- he had pretended when he fell in love, he had pretended when he lost the two most important things to him in his life, and he had always, always pretended Rody was his. 

And maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't have to pretend anymore. He could be real- this could be real. They could be real.

But in this moment, he was happy to pretend for the first time. He didn't mind at all pretending the world had paused for them, that he and Rody were the only beings in existence.

Vincent was staring into Rody's eyes through half-lidded irises of his own, lazily yet so needily- and Rody's eyes shined back with something Vincent couldn't quite place. But he was certain it was unwavering. And that was all it took for Vincent to muster out the words that he had forced down his throat so many times before. 

With Rody... he felt free. 

"...The shift's almost over." He rasped out, his breath still slight labored.

The Waiter only nodded.

"And... it's been a long day. You should pack up your things, too."

Rody blinked, nodding slowly again. He peered at Vince, almost expectantly, as if a part of him was wondering if he should let go. If it was, then he sure was reluctant. As if answering Rody's internal question silently for him even before Rody could answer it himself, Vincent draped his arms around his waist, holding him there and not allowing him to step away- and much to Rody's relief, too. 

And even if Vincent had wanted Rody to leave, he probably couldn't have. After their intimate embrace, the redhead was near certain he was glued to that office chair as long as Vincent was there under him.

"I'm heading to bed soon. You probably should rest up too...."
Vincent said in a near-whisper, pausing mid-sentence, and Rody nodded, his expression slightly disappointed- but he had gotten what he wanted, right? So why did he already feel emptier now that he would have to leave Vincent's arms?

Rody was clearly hesitant to get up, but as if reading his mind once more, Vincent grabbed onto Rody's arms gently.

He wouldn't let this slip between his fingers again, not when he had allowed so many other things to slip away when he had so desperately tried to grab on. Not this time, not with the love of his life.

"...with me."

Vincent spoke in the softest voice Rody had ever heard and probably would ever hear come out of the Chef.

And Rody found himself nodding vigorously.

-End of Chapter Fourteen-

A/N: should I rob y'all or actually write nsfw for the first time?? (I'm deciding based on the comments lol, but there will still be warnings if y'all want to see our favorite gay men get freaky)