“Well that went… not entirely, horribly wrong.” 

Aidan closed the door behind them. He slid his black jacket off his form and reached a demanding hand for Chris’ blazer, which he promptly handed over.

“What sort of debacle were you expecting?”

“I don’t know,” he replied from behind the closet door as he put them both on their respective empty hangers. “More screaming? Chairs flying around? Fountain pens brandished as weapons? I don’t know what it is you business people do when you negotiate.”

Chris snorted. “And what is it exactly that you run again? A lemonade stand?”

“Gideon might have liked it better if it was.”

Chris’ deep, rumbling chuckle led Aidan to the kitchen. He slid into one of the bar stools at the breakfast bar and watched as he rolled up his sleeves and began pulling ingredients out of the fridge. 

“Is he always like this?”

“Like what?”

“So…” Aidan made a nondescript motion with his hands. How could he say ‘only there because someone, who might have been standing right in front of him, asked him to’ nicely ? “Tofu-ish.”

“Hey, just because someone has a slightly alternative lifestyle does not mean you should call them names.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Well, mostly. “I meant more… flavorless. Like…” he hesitated for a moment, picking at his nails as his gaze dropped. “It didn’t look like he wanted to be there,” he finally muttered quietly.

Chris’ hands froze for a moment. He put down the half-peeled potato he was holding as he looked up at him.

“What other reason would he have had to be there?”

“I don’t know. It’s… never mind, it’s probably nothing.”

Chris let out a low hum and narrowed his eyes at him before drawing a deep inhale.

“Here, help me dice these.”

Aidan looked back at him in confusion before he slowly pulled over the cutting board Chris placed in front of him, topped with two onions and a knife. Just as slowly, though this time for very different reasons, he began chopping off their ends, then removing their peels.

“I already told you you’re a shitty liar, remember?”

Now it was Aidan’s turn to freeze. He peeked up at Chris who was back to working on the potatoes. The swift movements of his hands and just how close the peeler seemed to his fingers were almost as scary as the uncomfortable feeling that settled at the very base of his chest.

“You think I had something to do with it, don’t you?”

“I…” he sighed. “I mean it didn’t look like we were his organic, pesticide-free cup of tea.”

“It wasn’t because of me.”

Aidan chopped in silence for a moment before barely uttering, “How can you be sure?”

“Because,” Chris’ reply came immediately. “He’s not my friend, he doesn’t owe me anything, I don’t have any business with him, and he is not a client. He’s simply someone I thought might be interested – which he clearly is.”

Is he though? Aidan pursed his lips as he pushed aside the first, now cut, onion. Gideon’s response was lukewarm at best. Probably like the speedy showers he took to protect the earth’s resources and his skin’s natural barrier. He sighed again as he resumed his chopping.

“Do you really think it’s going to work?”

This time, there was a pause, and not a very short one. Aidan didn’t dare to look up again – or maybe it was the heaviness that was spreading throughout his torso that just made it too hard. It seemed like a small forever passed before Chris spoke again.

“I think we can make it work,” he finally said.

For whatever reason, it felt like a small truck just rammed into his chest. Suddenly, Aidan wasn’t so sure he could eat dinner. There was so much to take care of – making sure they somehow reach an agreement with Gideon on all the things he didn’t like, of which he was certain there were more, trying to boost the cafe’s sales and visibility all while making sure revenues increase as well… it sounded like so little, yet felt like so much. Chaos was running free in his head, like some god damn tornado that made things indistinguishable from one another. He didn’t even know where to start. It made his throat too tight, his muscles too stiff, and caused a familiar pressure to build right behind his eyes.

Damn onions. Aidan pulled his nose and brought up the back of his hand to wipe away the tears, only to stop right before he could when Chris grasped his wrist.

“You’re going to make it worse,” he noted softly, snatching the towel that slung over his shoulder and using it to dub away the moisture that began blurring his vision. There was a moment of quiet before Aidan let out a shaky breath.

“What if I can’t do it?” Park’s might not have been the most lucrative business out there, but it wasn’t like he didn’t try to increase revenues throughout the years. What if he couldn’t find a way to improve what they already had going? And what if they couldn’t make Gideon happy? What would they do then?

Chris looked at him in thought for a long minute, scrunching his brows in concentration.

“If you can’t,” he started carefully. ”We go back to the drawing board and figure out what to do next. But you should give yourself more credit,” he added with a smile, releasing his chin. A surge of panic rushed through Aidan when he realized he didn’t even notice he grabbed it in the first place.

“You know what you’re doing Aidan. And as crazy as it sounds, I know what I’m doing too.”

“I know you know what you’re doing.” He was not pouting. Even if it kinda sounded very similar to it, and the way Chris chuckled made him feel extremely self conscious.

“Is it that hard to trust me then?”

“No.” It wasn’t Chris he was having a hard time trusting. Aidan picked up a rogue onion peel and began crushing it between his fingers, though he stopped immediately when a larger hand wrapped around his own.

“All we have to do is figure out how to bring more people in and get all the small details between you and Gideon worked out. One step at a time, okay?”

Aidan nodded. Chris brushed his thumb over his hand, drawing a warm, comforting trail over his skin. It slowly seeped through it and spread throughout his entire body, creating a soft, bright glow that easily settled over him, like a protective blanket. It allowed him to breathe a little easier again, and give yet another nod before he picked the knife back up. Even if some of the ice at his core remained.