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You’d be surprised how fucking packed The Bear gets during the week, specially on Mondays. He thinks the front tonight might even be louder than the kitchen, for once. But that thought is easily thrown away the moment he gets out of his own head. The sound of clattering and banter rings on his ears like at any moment his brain might explode. It kind of makes it all worse that all he can think of is who’s going to clean his brain off of the walls afterwards.
“Can I get hands, chef?”
“Yes, chef!”
God, he really needs a smoke.
“Marcus, Can I get an ETA on that passionfruit mousse?” His fingers are twitching. He tries to ignore it and keep chopping
“Almost done chef, just need the- Ebraheim if you touched my canister, I swear to God. Just need to touch up the ganache.” There’s a clattering in the background
“I didn’t get your-” “That was me, jeff . ‘Needed for the parmesan espuma, sorry.” Are the lights flickering again? Didn’t Fak fix that?
“We have another one for that shit, don’t come touching what isn’t yours!”
“ Carajo - it’s clean, no skin off your back. Chill, jeff .” Either the lights are flickering again or he’s stroking out. Either way, he hopes he dies already.
“Cousin,” Oh for fuck’s sake- “I need that mousse, yesterday. What’s the fucking hold up?”
He doesn’t look up from his station, afraid he’s going to jump Richie if he even gets one look at him now “I don’t know Richie, why don’t you ask Marcus and his canister regime?”
“Regime? What is this, Cuba?”
“Yes, because you definitely know who Fidel Castro is.”
It’s been around 2 hours since the restaurant opened doors, and Carmy lost count of how many times he already had a scream-off with Richie. First over his non-negotiables, then something about a customer needing special cutlery and what counts as a real allergy or not (Richie didn’t believe silver allergies were real, and he refused to back down mid-argument); he lost track after that.
“Fuck you, cousin. Syd?”
“Tina took Marcus’ canister. Codfish up, can I get hands?” Syd replies matter-of-factly
“Thank you, Syd. Someone still cares about bare minimum decorum.”
“Just because you wear a suit now doesn’t mean you know what decorum means, either” Carmy yells over his table, still chopping rhythmically
“How about I shove some decorum up your ass, how about that?”
“There he is.” Richie scoffs, picks up the codfish and leaves the kitchen. Carmy lets out a sigh.
He’d kill for a cigarette
It feels so weird to be in the kitchen without all the… everything. There’s almost a subliminal air about it. A kitchen without chefs; without fire and the metal sound behind it. He almost feels bad for being so at peace. I could probably run this shit by myself , he chuckles to himself.
After his fifth smoke break and closing up, his fingers are not twitching anymore. So he lets everyone think he’s going home right after them, instead doing the prep he knows he won’t like when the others do it. These have been Carmy’s little moments of peace, being back in the kitchen by himself, letting his brain turn off as his muscle memory does all the work. Being alone at home feels different than in the kitchen. When his brain is his biggest enemy, in contrast of, well… Everything.
He’s got 3 burners occupied by different broths and soups, his brain grinding gears if he should try implementing anything different for tomorrow or stick with what he planned last week. He always changes his mind at the last minute and hates the planned meals, as if he weren’t the one that came up with it in the first place. Burner number 2 has a promising vegetable stew going, the aroma subtle and warm. He takes a wooden spoon and tastes it, “Some roasted carrots would really spice this shit up” he murmurs to himself and writes it down on the notebook next to the stove.
He almost doesn’t hear the door open, when-
“‘the fuck are you still doing here, Carm?” Richie asks, but not in his usual tone, he’s already calmed down from the shift. Carmy barely acknowledges him, not even looking his way when he replies:
“Soup.”
“That’s not an answer, Carmy.” He tries to hide his laugh as he walks behind Carmen. He’d disassociate again if he didn’t feel the searing heat of Richie’s hand on his hips as he walked past him, into the back of the kitchen. Suddenly he’s wide awake again. He could’ve walked around the island
He hears a light shuffling in the lockers and as soon as it starts, it’s gone. He hears the bang of Richie’s locker closing when he walks back. He turns and sees him coming back, eyeing the pots in front of Carmen.
“Smells good, ‘cuz.”
“Thanks.” Carmy mumbles.
“You still didn’t tell me why you’re here.” Richie stands next to him and reaches for a spoon, dipping into burner number 1. If it were work hours, Carmy would scream at him but he doesn’t find it in his heart to care, not right now at least.
“Better question, why are you here?” He doesn’t like how close Richie is to him. Especially when they are alone like this. It brings back memories from when they were teenagers. Not in a bad way, but in a way that he’s afraid will resurface certain… Thoughts he really doesn’t feel like dealing with now.
Settling the spoon down, he says, “Ah, I forgot my fuckin’ keys. Only realized it when I was in front of my fuckin’ door.” He waves it off making it seem like less of a big deal than it was, Carmy could hear under his breath how pissed off he actually was.
“Of course you’d do something fucking stupid like that.” Carmy didn’t realize what he said before he could feel a shift next to him. Ah, too late for that.
“Jesus, what’s up your ass today?” Richie shoves his shoulder, forcing Carmy to turn his way, but Carmen still tries to avoid eye contact, he’s afraid that if he looks at Richie, he’ll give in. Maybe apologize and offer the soup as a truce. Pretend this never happened. “I thought we got over the shit earlier, I was tryin’ to be fuckin’ nice for once.”
But Carmen Berzatto is nothing if stubborn.
“Nothing. I’m just exhausted from being around a man-child that thinks he’s a big boy now because he got a new suit from mommy.” He looks him in the eye, finally. He regrets it the moment he says it
Richie scoffs and for half a second Carmen thinks Richie will just walk away. Like he’s not worth his time.
He hears the impact before he feels it.
The swing Richie takes to Carmen’s left cheek easily has him falling on his ass. The sound of Richie’s knuckle’s meeting his cheekbone is what registers it to him that Richie just fucking punched him. The confirmation is when he opens his eyes and sees the ceiling above him. For a moment, Carmen just lays on the floor when he feels radiating from his face and going down his body, to his lower stomach. He takes two fingers and touches the bottom of his nose, pulling it back to see the bright red liquid that’s dripping down his face. The sight from it has him turning to the side spitting out more of it; while feeling more of it drip down his nose, reaching his open mouth and hitting his tongue. He thinks he has a split lip too.
“Aaah, I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” Richie smiles while cracking his knuckles, he turns his head and reaches for the stovetop, lowering the fires on the three burners, he retracts his hand and takes a step, towering over Carmen on the floor.
Carmen doesn’t remember how long he’s known Richie for. The first memory he has of him is hating his ass and wanting to wipe that smirk off his face. But, for someone so used to being face to face with him, screaming at each other on the top of their lungs, Carmen easily forgets that Richie is factually bigger than him.
“Do you ever shut the fuck up? Huh?” The polish man kicks Carmen’s thighs that were sprawled, Carmen grunts and turns to his side, using one arm to hold his stomach while the other tries to hold himself up. Richard pockets his hands and takes this opportunity to walk up and step on Carmen’s head, forcing him down, nudging his un-punched cheek to the floor.
“The only little man here is you, Carmen.” Richard slides his leather shoe harder over Carmen’s bruised cheek. Leaning against the island behind him. “Something about this feels right, doesn’t it, cousin?” With every word Richard twists his foot on Carmen’s face.
“See, I’m not perfect, but I know that. I like being an asshole. While sweet little bear thinks he’s some sort of God in his little kitchen, playing house. Saying who does what and who gets to say what words.” He laughs and pauses, waiting for Carmy’s banter, but it never comes.
“That shut you up? Got nothing to say, huh, bear ?” Richie says mockingly as he moves his foot off of Carmen’s face slightly, just enough to uncover his face. Seeing his eyes glisten with tears. A normal man would have backed off and think he went too far, but Richie knows that look. Because he knows Carmen better than anyone else.
“ No fuckin’ way. ” Richard mumbles more to himself in disbelief, he backs off of Carmen and goes between his thighs and nudges them apart with his feet.
“No fuckin’ way you got hard from that.” Richie laughs, taking in the vision. Carmen got his eyes watering and his face flushed, both from embarrassment and the punch. He looks to the side, smearing off the blood with the back of his hand. While Carmen breathes more heavily, Richard can see a bulge twitching from Carmen’s jeans.
“God you’re pathetic. But I should’ve known you were a little freak. Getting hard from getting a blow to the face.” He takes another step closer and kneels on top of Carmen, he grips the blond man’s hair, admiring his damage. Carmen’s face is flushed even brighter, his cheek already an angry red while his lips and chin are stained from the blood. “If I had known you liked being pushed around I would’ve done this a lot sooner.”
“Richie-” With his left hand, Richie slaps Carmen’s face. He spits more blood
“Shut the fuck up.” Richie drops his other knee, now stradling the younger man’s chest. He keeps grabbing his hair while his left hand, which is still burning from the slap, and starts palming the growing erection in his slacks with his free hand. When he sees Carmen trying to look down, he pulls harder, pulling his head back and Carmen lets out a moan.
“Richie, Please–” He can’t stop how pathetic he sounds, letting out a whimper when Richie pulls his hair back again.
“Yeah, yeah I’ll give you what you want, you needy slut.” The taller man then unzips his hand surprisingly fast with one hand, the other never letting go of Carmy’s curls. Carmy manages to get a peak at Richie’s cock. Of course he’d be hung , his cock is proudly standing up and twitching with a slight curve to it, the tip red with a precum threatening to drop from it. His mouth starts to water and he unconsciously licks his lips.
That was enough for Richie to take it as an invitation to shove his entire dick down Carmen’s throat. He gagged and used what little strength he had to grip at Richie’s thighs, tapping them begging for some breathing room. Richie graciously pulls back, but only a little, letting Carmen get more used to his length
The sight below him is everything he could’ve wanted. Carmen’s eyes are hazy, like he’s not all there, he looks at Richie like he wants to beg for something not even he’s sure what. Maybe to give him a minute before shoving his gigantic cock down his throat.
He gives an assertive thrust forward. Feeling the tip of his cock hit the back of Carmen’s throat. He thinks Carmen will tap his thighs again and moan on his cock, in a way to tap out. But what he does next surprises Richie, for the second time tonight.
Carmen is still somewhat struggling to take all of Richie inside his small mouth, but he nudges his head back, hollowing his cheeks, sucking him in. The position he’s in it’s uncomfortable; Richie straddling his chest, grabbing his hair and forcing his head on a curved angle not made to suck cock, the bottom of his chin almost meeting sternum. He manages to use Richie’s thighs to push himself up a little and keep his head in a better angle; Moving it forward better than the previous one where Richie’s cock was pushing his head back to the floor. Now he can kind of get face-fucked in a way at least he can breath a little easier.
“ Fuck , I’d always take you for a natural cock-sucker but- argh , God, Cousin this is just ridiculous- Hm, just like that. ” Richie’s hips keep snapping back and forth, at a somewhat forgiving pace, letting Carmen have just enough time to settle his breathing through his nose, but not changing the fact that Carmen is getting his face fucked on the floor of his own kitchen.
His ribs are starting to hurt but he doesn’t care. His cock hurts with how hard he is, trapped in his tight pants, but he just wants to suck Richie off forever. Feeling drool drip down his chin whenever he pulls back, how Richie grunts whenever Carmen moans on his cock.
Richie pulls Carmen’s head back rashly, scooting back a little so he can admire his handiwork. The shorter man’s eyes are still glassy, face burning red, without his mouth being full of dick, his lips hang open as he takes this opportunity to breathe. Nose with a line of blood falling down to his split lip. Richie knows if he let go of Carmen’s hair, he’d hit the floor again. He’s too far gone to use any of his strength by himself.
The taller man cradles Carmen’s face in his hands, to which the younger one welcomes it, leaning in to Richie’s touch. Richie strokes his thumb across Carmen’s cheeks and down to his lips, instantly Carmen opens them and sticks his tongue out, sucking Richie’s thumb. Richie uses this opportunity and pulls his mouth open, pressing his tongue down. Carmen lets out an aah when Richie uses his other hand, pulls his head back again, and spits on Carmen’s open mouth. He tells him to swallow and Carmen obeys almost blindly. Richie strokes his cheeks again and murmurs good boy, making Carmen’s cock throb.
Richard raises his left knee for a second and brings Carmen with him, he gets closer and tells him to turn around. Carmen has just enough energy to nod, and starts to turn. Richie lets go of his curls and Carmy hits the floor but he instantly continues to turn. He doesn’t want to disappoint Richie. He uses his forearms to prop himself on all fours, letting his face down as he settles his breathing again.
He tries to stay as still as he can, like he doesn’t know what’s going to happen next. Behind him, Richie kneels back again behind him, he reaches for Carmen’s pants and works to unzip him, free him from his torment. “You could’ve at least made this easier for me, cousin.” Richie laughs. Once he hears the zipper, he pulls Carmen’s pants down along with his trunks.
Richie hums and lets his right thumb dip around Carmy’s twitching hole and pulls it to the side slightly. Seeing it open, Richie lets a glob of spit fall from his mouth. When it reaches its target, Carmen whines. He raises his hand and lets it fall, not as hard as he wanted to, but hearing Carmen gasp is enough for him. He leans down, closer to the younger man’s ear. “Another night, I’d love to bruise this sweet ass. Spank you ‘til you’re purple.” Another night…?
He leans back and slides his thumb inside and Carmen gets a little louder. Richie smirks, but he’s not satisfied yet, he thinks Carmy’s taking his thumb well enough and he switches to his index finger, then he adds the middle one. He takes a look further down; to Carmen’s neglected throbbing cock and he has an idea. The moment his left hand wraps around Carmen’s length, he gasps.
Richie strokes Carmen’s cock the same pace he fucked his throat; fast and decisive . It feels fantastic . If it’s because he’s been hard for who knows how long without being touched or because Richie is surprisingly good at fingering another man, he doesn’t know. But he knows what Richie wants to gain by this. Earlier it was to humiliate Carmen, now it’s to make him cum on his fist.
He wants to be angry himself but he’s too horny to do so. He’s trying to hold back when he feels Richie curl his fingers inside of him and make him see stars. He gasps and clasps his hands together in an attempt to hide his sounds. He can almost hear Richie sneer behind him, (or maybe he’s just projecting, he can’t tell) and he keeps doing it, hitting it oh so perfectly ,Carmen just gives up and lets it all out.
It’s relentless but Carmen doesn’t care. He's getting milked by his childhood friend and it’s so good, fuck, he just wants to cum, he wants to cum for Richie, Oh my God-
With a twitch of his hips and a gasp, Carmen bites his lips and grunts, spilling all over the floor, on his wrinkled pants by his knees. He can hear Richie laughing behind him.
“There you go, you needed that, huh?” Richie is still stroking him, letting him ride out his orgasm. When he’s got nothing else to give, Richie takes out his fingers and with his other hand, soiled with Carmen’s cum, he smears it on his puckered hole and uses his just freed one to hold Carmen’s hips, adjusting him to better position his cock. He lets his dick slide between Carmen’s cheeks up and down, grinding on his ass, smearing cum on both his ass and Richie’s member.
Carmen wakes up from his afterglow when he feels the tip of a hard dick hitting his rim, teasing the head in, excruciatingly slow. He shoots his head up, reaching behind him, failing to push Richie off of him. Somehow manages to say “Cousin, wait-”
“Nah, I’m done waitin’” At once, he shoves the rest of him inside.
Carmen grits his teeth but it goes remarkably easy. Being stretched by Richie’s long fingers earlier made the job a hell of a lot easier. Although he can feel his insides adapting to accommodate the large girth stretching him, once he feels the base of Richie’s cock hit the entrance, Richie lets out a sigh.
“Ah, you’ve always looked like a tight ass too,” he pulls back, almost out, then all the way in again, “I love always being right.” Carmy wishes he could turn around and punch the smirk off his face, like Richie did to him who-knows how long ago, but he knows he doesn’t mean to, so he just takes it .
Richie wastes no time showing his lack of patience. He grips Carmen’s hips with a force that will surely give him another bruise to add to the count tonight. fucking Carmen on the kitchen floor like this isn’t not only highly unhygienic but also, kind of illegal by HR standards. (Not like The Bear has an HR, anyway.) Nothing holding him back anymore. He won.
The amalgamation of the sound of skin slapping, Richie’s grunts and Carmen’s moans that fill the kitchen is absolutely filthy . Surprisingly what’s bothering Carmy the most is not the clear HR violation but that he doesn’t care about the legality of what they’re doing. He wants to get fucked forever, by Richie, of all people, and he’s okay with that.
“Richie-” He doesn’t finish when he gets a hard slap on his ass.
“Thought I told you to shut the fuck up.” He sets his hand back gripping Carmen’s hips, nails sinking into his flesh.
At some point, Richie leans over again– how is he still going this fast– and rests his forehead on Carmen’s shoulder for a second, when he raises his head and starts kissing it over his shirt, working his way up to his neck, grazing it with his teeth as he huffs with each thrust of his hips. When he bites Carmen’s neck, Carmen can only cry in response. Letting his tears fall on the polished ceramic floor as his teeth sink into it. He feels Richie kiss and lick the bite mark, leaning back again, seeing how easily Carmen’s neck bruised over it.
Oh God he’s going to cum again, he’s going to cum two times in a row for Richard-
He just keeps fucking Carmen until his thrusts grow erratic, and harder. Carmy can tell he’s chasing his own release now. He opens his mouth to try to protest, to not cum inside, anything. But Richie beats him to it. He grips his hair pulling him back, so they’re both standing on their knees now, while his other hand holds Carmen’s throat.
He gets his lips right next to Carmen’s ear, “Quit actin’ like this isn’t what you want. Just stay quiet and take my cum.” He whispers, closing his hand around his neck, choking the blonde man.
This is enough to send him over the edge. Carmen can feel himself tightening up around Richie as he cums again, with Richie following soon after. He hears him mutter a “fuck ” as he reaches as deep as he can inside of him, to the hilt. Letting his seed spill inside of Carmen.
Richie is still holding onto him even after he finished, still holding him by his throat but somehow more gently, not gripping it but just holding him into place. Like he’s scared of letting him go just yet. He huffs and goes back to kissing Carmen’s neck lazily, while coming down from his own high.
All he can hear is both him and Richie panting, trying to recover from what just occured. Both his ass and dick are sore from the abuse, but it’s a good kind of sore. He can still feel it pulsing from his orgasm, along with his heart fastly beating inside of his chest.
He feels Richie unhand him; with a pop , he feels the polish man pulling out of him, feeling his come drip out of his hole, down his trembling thighs. Carmen feels sticky and dirty but he doesn’t feel bad about it for once. The only thing in his mind is if he’s going to be able to walk home at all after that.
Just as soon as he left him, Richie is all over him again, kissing his neck and embracing him, rubbing circles on his hips and rubbing his stomach.
“...I love you, cousin.”
Saying that after absolutely destroying his insides and pride in his own kitchen floor. The fucking nerve.
“...I love you, too”
For all he knows he fucking hates Richard.
Ever since he was too young to even know how to express what he feels. He knows he doesn’t like Richie; He’s bigoted and is clearly dealing with rage issues (that’s what he would find out later in age), yet his brother loves him. And so does his mother. So he tolerates him, and that’s how they grow up together. Even at 16 all he wants is to scream at Richie for any reason he’s given. And yet, sometimes… Richie surprises him. Like when he saves gum for Carmen when he comes over. Or when he sees him struggling with homework and he doesn’t want to bother Mike for help, on the next day Richard comes over to play games with Mike, he tells him “I found this shit lying around and since you’re so stupid I thought you might need it, haha” and although Richie’s writing is atrocious, it’s better than how Carmen’s teacher explains the subject.
So in his mind, he hates Richard. For all the different slurs he calls Carmen. For stealing his brother from him. For inviting him to play with him only to cheat on Doom 2 when Mike wasn’t home yet. For tussling his hair whenever he passed behind him. For teasing him for his stutter. For cheating on all the games they ever played together. For inviting him to hang out with him and Mike more, only to find some way to humiliate him in front of his brother. For beating the shit out of a boy that talked shit about him, when he didn’t ask to. For asking him to make him lunch because his sandwiches were “the shit”. For holding his hand to pull him across the street, and only letting him go when they got to his house. For looking at Carmen like he’s expecting something different when Carmen turns around and waves bye. For pulling him by his shirt when he was talking to a pretty girl with blue hair, dragging him upstairs, making him think he was going to lock him in his bedroom, and steal the girl from him, only to pull him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him.
He doesn’t know how long time passes, they’re sitting on the floor, at the foot of his bed. Carmen’s mind is quiet, especially because he saw Richie close the door behind him. So he makes out with him, letting his worries sit at the back burner. Just enjoying the feeling of Richie’s hands on him and his excuse of a stubble scratching his face. But a small voice in his head tells him to speak up.
He breaks the kiss and whispers “U-um.”
“What? Did I hurt you?” Richie manages to sound both annoyed and concerned at the same time and he doesn’t know which he disliked more.
He swallows and wipes the spit on the corner of his lips “No, no, it’s just… C-can you, um-” “Spit it out you fucking fag” “-pull my hair?” he spurts out.
He hates how desperate he sounds, asking Richard, of all people, to do something like this. If it were any other guy making out with him he wouldn’t have the guts to even think about doing it. But Richie makes him comfortable enough. Why? Carmen doesn’t know yet.
He worries he said too much, he doesn’t know what people say in these situations, God knows he didn’t think that far ahead either. Richie looks at him up and down, with a look that puzzles Carmen. And then he lets his hand run through his hair, gently. While his other hand cradles Carmen’s face. Richie cocks his head and smirks, when his hand just about reaches the base of Carmen's neck, he pulls. Hard.
Carmen moans pathetically and Richie’s smirk grows wider; He mutters something about Carmy being a “little freak” and goes back to kissing him.
And he finds out two things about himself that night; He doesn’t really hate Richie. And he likes how he pulls his hair.