Under My Skin

by YourLocalCannibal

Summary:

What if when Rody found Manon, he and Vince both reacted differently?

Rody was a simple man, he just wanted a job to impress his girlfriend who recently left him. But at his new job as a waiter for Vincent Charbonneau, he got so much more than he bargained for.

Notes:

This is my first fanfic so I hope it's alright!

Chapter 1: Misery Meat

DAY 1

Waking up bright and early Rody got himself ready to show up at 5:00am on the dot for his job. Normally he would begrudge waking up so early, but this was his first day at a new job and he wanted to make a good impression and understand the job before having to serve any actual customers. His new job was a waiter, not unlike his previous jobs, only this time he was going to be waiting at one of the most prestigious 5-star restaurants in France and he was determined to keep this job, at least for a week, longer than some of his prior employments, he really needed the money after all. He attempted to tame his wild ginger hair and squeezed into a presentable waiter attire; it was a bit tight on his muscles but not too uncomfortable. He checked himself once more in the mirror, attempting to rub away the growing eyebags near his freckles before sighing and leaving his apartment he hopped onto his bike and rode to work. Cars are far too expensive to own and run compared to a bike, and because he cycles, he's rather tanned and muscular, another benefit.

Entering La Gueule de Saturne he was immediately met by his new boss and head chef of the establishment, Vincent Charbonneau. He was well put together; a cold stare hardened on his face and an intimidating aura projecting from him. He was quite tall, about the same height as Rody, with a slim build, tired eyes that portrayed a stern look and neat black coarse hair. He was rather attractive, his mind supplied unhelpfully; it didn't matter, he needed to focus. He was only here for the money after all, just a simple job to get him enough money to get by. Honestly, he would probably quit within a week anyways, best not to get attached.

With a comment on Rody’s punctuality Vincent explained the position. “Your resume showed many... many jobs in the service industry so I assume you already have some of this down, though I'm choosing to ignore the rate at which you got new positions.” He spoke with an almost bored expression, already acting scornful towards him. Jeez weren’t bosses supposed to pretend to be nice on the first shift?

Feeling defensive Rody exclaimed “hey! Having 28 service industry jobs over the course of 7 years is pretty impressive when you think about it!”

“And even less impressive when you think about it for 5 seconds more than that.” Vincent quickly pivoted the conversation to seating tables and their menu for Rody to familiarise himself with. Taking a glance over the menu, he noticed a peculiarity as there was only one meal for each course available. His new boss was swift to explain this was a strict menu that changes daily, odd yet intriguing, so Rody opted to serve a table for two instead of pestering Vincent with more questions.

The day moved smoothly considering it was his first day, his prior experience coming in handy as he controlled the pace of the service to a quick but manageable level, only making minor mistakes (bound to happen when in a new workplace environment.) The only thing that shocked him was it was also his responsibility to take the rubbish out as well. It makes sense the cooks would be busy, and the waste would make for an unclean kitchen station, but Rody couldn’t help but think he was doing the job Vincent was supposed to yet refused to do himself. But alas, this job was imperative, and that meant doing everything asked of him, even menial tasks that interfere with his main objective.

The restaurant seemed to be quite interesting in itself. The customers all seemed to be of a higher status than himself, but their lives were no less complicated. Some were going through rough patches in their lines of work, others within their marriages. Perhaps they weren’t all that different after all. Some he learned to be every bit as stuck up as they appeared however, with many of the guests refusing to use basic manners such as ‘please’ or ‘thank you’, likely as a result of seeing Rody as lesser, and therefore do not feel the need to treat him with common decency. One woman was incredibly rude to him, claiming he was not treating her and her husband correctly.

Once the day was over he was left with a single dead plate of green onion rolls, Vincent had explained that if a customer leaves before their dish is served to them, until a new person orders that exact meal it is a dead plate and will be discarded at the end of the day if no one else orders it. The chef claimed that this plate was a waste to throw away and instead offered it to Rody, which he eagerly accepted, the fridge in his apartment was severely lacking and he would not turn down free food from a 5-star restaurant.

It was a tad surprising he was allowed to bring home food from the bistro, especially on his first day of work, but he appreciated the sentiment, nonetheless. Honestly it had been a while since he last had someone cook for him, and he missed it. Food always tasted better when someone else had prepared it. Even more so when it was free.

Returning to his decrepit apartment Rody ate the food he was given, taking his time to evaluate the taste, it seemed... bitter? Not something that he would expect from such a reputable establishment but perhaps his taste was not ‘refined enough’ as he had once been told back in college. Sighing he pushed the plate to one side and eyed his phone, mentally debating with himself. If he were a stronger man maybe he would have resisted, unfortunately he was not a strong-willed person, reaching for the phone and dialling her number instinctively. Waiting for the call to connect he held his breath; the number you have called is-. The line went dead as he hung up. He’ll try again tomorrow. Laying down across his sofa Rody relaxed his mind and body, letting sleep overtake him.

Chapter 2: Body

DAY 2

Sleepily opening his eyes, he acknowledged the ache that spread throughout his body after the first difficult day, but Rody really needed this job. His girlfriend had recently dumped him, though he couldn’t understand why. He always gave everything in relationships, completely and utterly offering himself up to his lover, what more could she possibly want? She had claimed he gave too much but isn’t that how relationships work? He had gotten this job so she could see he is able to look after himself so she would want him back. She had to take him back.

Sighing Rody rolled over and landed with a harsh thud onto the floor. “What the-” oh, right. He was sleeping on his sofa because he didn’t have a bed yet. It wasn’t his fault though, he got the apartment for him and his girlfriend Manon, but she left him before he could buy one for them, and after that what was the point in having one. He was sorely regretting that decision now.

Peeling himself off the floor he stumbled his way to his bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he went. Taking a quick glance at the time, he made a mental note “Right 5:30pm, probably should’ve slept earlier last night instead of trying to call Manon, at least I won't be late for my shift at 6- wait it’s already 5:30!?” Taking a panicked glance around the room, he confirmed the time, rushing to get ready. “It’s my second day; I can’t be late on my second day- I really need this job!”

Rushing out of the door he grabbed his bike and rode as fast as he could, not taking time to acknowledge his need for an umbrella for the onslaught of rain pouring down outside (not that he owned one anyway). By the time he made it to his shift he was late, sopping wet and met with a stern Vincent, scolding him for his tardiness before taking in his appearance. “Why do you look like that?” Rody gave a sheepish smile before replying “I uh- I thought biking through the rain would dry me as I go but turns out it just soaks me faster.” Vincent gave a disapproving shake of his head before leaving momentarily, returning with a small towel in his hand. “Dry off, you can’t be seen by the customers looking like this.”

Despite his words sounding like a command his boss sat him down and ran the towel through his hair for him, careful not to pull on his hair too harshly, the feeling grounding as he softly carded through his hair, treating him tenderly. He even offered his own umbrella up to Rody, an oddly sweet gesture that made him feel a warmth bloom in his chest. To distract himself he questioned Vincent on how he would make it home without it. “I live here” was the simple reply. “Like. In the restaurant??” Vincent finished drying off his hair gently; “my apartment’s upstairs.” Rody felt the heat creep to his face, that makes much more sense, he felt quite foolish after this interaction. Refusing to dwell on his lack of conversation skills he expressed concern for his boss' assets and what would happen if something were to go wrong such as a fire, leaving him with nothing; actively choosing to ignore the slight loss he felt at Vincent removing his hands from his hair.

Before he could react, the towel was being thrown over his face, obscuring his sight so he could not see the playful smirk stretching across the others face. “If you have enough time to talk nonsense then you’re ready for work.” Vincent was gone before Rody could retaliate, left with nothing to do but his job, waiting the tables with practised confidence yet also with a somewhat endearing clumsiness Vincent couldn’t ignore.

The customers continued to filter through, he even recognised that same rude woman, although she was with a different man this time. Once he had seated them, she had begun to belittle him once again, claiming he was not fit to serve her and her husband. Oh, guess she was a cheat too. There seemed to be a lot of those in this establishment. Or perhaps it was the status, the entitlement they feel to do whatever they please no matter who it hurts.

As the day dragged on and the orders became sparser Rody excused himself to the back of the kitchen to pester his boss. “Hey Vince, can I ask you something?” Without missing a beat, the other man responded with “it’s chef” trying to conceal his secret appreciation of the nickname and instead presenting with the cold reputation he had as the head chef, quickly commenting on Rody’s lack of work ethic. Offended Rody pointed out “hey, how come you aren’t doing anything back here, all your chefs are cooking yet you’re stood back here?” Vince let out an annoyed huff, preparing to explain to Rody “I have to supervise them, so they prepare my dishes to perfection.” The waiter found this to be quite extreme and harsh but was not able to comment further as he was sent away to continue his job.

The rest of the day continued as normal, their conversation still on his mind, Vince didn’t seem to be a bad guy, maybe just a bit overbearing. He can’t blame the guy though; he likely didn’t get famous for his restaurant from being lax, but he could stand to be a tad less controlling. Settling into his sofa once more, grabbing his plate of leftovers from the day, blueberry crepes this time, it may have been bitter the last time, but he would not complain about free food. Sat in thought, Rody reached for the phone once more, not getting through 2 rings before the automated message rang in his ears. Again. Oh well, he will keep trying, she’ll pick up eventually. Right? Laying down he slipped into a dark and deep unconsciousness.

Chapter 3: Bite Me

DAY 3

Rody managed to show up to his third shift without any difficulties. The day was busier than most with several 4 tops coming in. He always hated waiting the larger tables, they were often more patient, but they always ordered far too much for him to carry. Due to the increase in customers the day seemed to fly by, the rubbish in the bins slowly increasing until a sizeable mound was visible. As it was technically his responsibility Rody begrudgingly removed the overflowing bin before a sharp pain in his finger caused him to drop the rubbish in his hand “ow!” Looking down at his finger he noticed beads of red seeping through the cut and dripping down his hand. Peering up he noticed Vince staring at him with a dead-eyed expression, intimidating as always, but something was off, it felt more... menacing. Like a predator seeking its prey.

“Ah, it- I'm sorry, there’s something in the trash, I think it may have ripped the bag open when I dropped it- I think it cut me, I swear I didn’t throw away anything I wasn’t supposed to! I don’t think...I can clean up the mess, I’ll just need a second” Rody was rambling, scared of making a scene and disrupting the restaurant whilst also wondering what could have possibly cut him. He knows not to dispose of sharp objects in the regular bin but then how did this happen? Had he made a mistake? Would Vince be mad? Before he could react, Vincent’s eyes were trained on him, and a loud echo of a slap could be heard throughout the kitchen.

It was silent, no body dared say anything, even moving felt dangerous. The silence stretched onwards, as though time had stopped the moment Rody had made eye contact with Vince. Despite the moment seemingly lasting forever, he felt as though he didn’t have enough time to process what just happened, or how he got here. All he knows is that he feels both fear and an odd sense of calm when with Vince, and that he is awfully confused.

Staring at each other, both in shock, Vince snapped out of the trance first, “you don’t need to worry about that, someone else will get the mess, let me see your hand.” Without waiting for a response (as it wasn’t really a request) Vince crouched down and held up his hand and inspected the increasingly bloodied finger. “We can’t have you serving customers with this, try to be more careful next time.” Despite his harsh actions and words his hands were careful, tender, almost... loving. Wait. What was Rody thinking, the man just slapped him!? Although he seemed to regret his actions, Vince had a permanent furrow in his brow, a look of worry etched into his face as he applied rubbing alcohol and bandages to the exposed wound. It was difficult to decipher what the man was really thinking, but it was clear Vince was not as horrible as he pretended to be.

After what felt like an eternity Vince finally released his hand, stroking his fingers across his palm and down to his fingertips before retreating, the remnant touch still tingling in his hand. Then as quickly as it all started the chef had gotten up again and had resumed his position of supervising, leaving the waiter to continue his job as if he didn’t have a million conflicting emotions clashing together, all of which revolving around Vince.

The rest of the shift was simple and straight forward, he was getting used to the regulars, and beginning to understand what most of the customers did and didn’t like, many did not appreciate his attempts at humour, and simply wanted a servant, but there were the odd few that were lovely, even going as far as to tip him occasionally. It was difficult trying to continue his shift as normal though, the scene from earlier replayed in his mind, stuck on a loop of that strange moment.

As per usual Vince had rewarded him with leftovers: squid ink pasta and shrimp this time, a delicacy Rody wasn’t sure about, he didn’t understand how those rich folk could eat things like this, but hey, he would eat anything. Especially considering his lack of food at home, he would take what he can get. He really needed to ask Vince about a raise or something so he could afford to feed himself rather than living off the scraps the other man gives him. Still, it was nice to think that Vince was caring enough to give him these meals, possibly even making them for him, although that may be a stretch.

Returning home he once again completed his nightly routine of sitting on his ratty old sofa, eating his boss’s leftovers and waiting to hear Manon’s inevitable voicemail. Thinking about it, how come Vince always had food going, it couldn’t all be dead plates could it? It was foolish to think that Vince was making them for him especially though, there had to be another explanation. More importantly, why did Manon leave with no explanation? He had so many questions and no answers. Sighing deeply, he rested his head along the arm of the seat, it ultimately didn’t matter, did anything really matter anymore? It certainly didn’t feel like it with her gone. Closing his eyes he drifted off into nothingness.

The itch was unbearable. A small scratch didn’t suffice, it etched deep into skin, down through his muscles to his bones. It spread like wildfire, licking at his exposed skin and carving into his flesh. His nails alone couldn't help, the scratching was never enough, the itch kept spreading, getting worse. No matter what he tried he couldn’t escape it. Looking at his raw hands he noticed dotted lines; they looked like surgical skin grafts for incisions. Inspecting further they surrounded his body, covering his limbs and torso like a bag of meat. Knives surrounding him, butchering and carving knives and cleavers, and he was on the chopping block.

Chapter 4: Flesh

DAY 4  

Rody woke with a start, sitting up abruptly before investigating his body, only to be assured it was just a nightmare. A pretty freaky nightmare, one that had left him shaken up, something that hasn’t happened since he was a child, but alas, just a nightmare, nothing to dwell on. Lugging himself off his makeshift bed he repeated his routine of getting ready for work, taking his bike to arrive on time.   

The day started as normal, serving tables, dealing with customers, it wasn’t a particularly busy day, the waiter could deal with this level. Entering the kitchen though the environment changed. The air changed. It felt charged. And not positively. “Who the hell do you think you are-” Vince’s voice rang through the eery silence, his eyes frantic with a danger behind them as he honed in on a chef Rody couldn’t name. “I apologise chef” the timid voice made him feel pity, but not Vincent, stepping closer he reached for the chef, “a sorry doesn’t fucking cut it now does it? Do you think a dish like that is at all acceptable in my kitchen?” The panicked response of “no chef” was quick but did not satisfy the owner.  

“Then why did you make it.”    

“I don’t know chef I must’ve-”  

“You don’t know???”  

 “It slipped my mind, I apologise chef, some flour had been left near the stove and I didn’t want to get burnt.”  

No one was ready for the hand gripping the back of the poor chefs' neck, twisting and bending him painfully over the stove, his face a near inches from the flames tickling at his nose. “Don’t back talk me in my own fucking kitchen you damn Pig. If you plan on being a semi-decent cook, you have no conceivable reason to be afraid of something like a stove. You get burnt; you keep cooking. If you can’t follow simple safety regulations, it’ll be your own damn fault.”   

Gazing into the flames obscuring his eyesight the chef stayed deadly still, face in perpetual fear as he steadied himself. “Yes, chef.” Mockingly Vincent replied, “I couldn’t hear you.” ... “ Yes, chef.”  Seemingly satisfied with the answer the chef was released and free to return to work. “I need a break. Get the hell back to work.” And with that the owner was gone out the back presumably to smoke. Rody had seen some cigarettes and a lighter in his pocket previously, not that he was snooping or being creepy or anything, it was a harmless observation, nothing more.   

He felt like a puppy waiting for his boss to return, but he wanted to talk to him. Rody wasn’t sure what compelled him but there was some sort of force pulling him towards him, luring him in. When he finally came back Rody bounced over “hey, Vince!” The chef gave him a simple look up and down, but it felt like more than that, like his very soul was being examined, and he was not safe from the scrutiny of those eyes, yet he also felt safe, seen in a way he’s never been seen before.   

“What do you want.” Squirming a bit under his intense gaze he shifted from his left to his right foot, rocking slightly. “Um, could you give me a raise?” He was rewarded with laughter, but it didn’t sound as harsh as it was probably supposed to, it felt... fond? “...So, is that a no or...?” Vince was smiling at him, this had never happened before, he was quite charming when he smiled, he understood the appeal. Snapping out of the trance the two seemed to find themselves in Vince responded “oh, right- yeah, that’s a no, you’re not getting a raise.” A pout etched its way onto his face before the chef continued. “Why do you need one anyways.” Something felt off, he knew the answer but, it felt different now, was he actually... he needed to stop thinking about this, Vince was his boss, and he had a girlfriend... maybe. “Well, it’s for a girl- her name’s Manon, I should have just enough by the end of the week but just a bit more could be ample for something really special-” Vincent seemed to get cold at this, colder than normal, treating him as a usual employee.   

That was when Rody realised, Vince treated him differently, nicer, like he was specia- “You make tips. Do good at your job and you’ll do well enough for whatever project you have outside of it.” He seemed to spit the words out, venom pouring out of his mouth, had Rody done something wrong? “...Why do you need this much money anyways. Is she really that excessive with cash?” Some judgement could be sensed, and although Rody hadn’t spoken to Manon in a long time he still felt the need to defend her. “Of course not! - Well, I mean a little yeah. But she’s not prissy or anything- And she’s worth it! Every cent of it, she’s worth all of it, and when I can show her just how much she means to me this’ll all be worth it too...” Vincent seemed to consider this for a long moment, taking in the words carefully, and Rody couldn’t help but feel off, like he’d lied, but this is how he feels, felt?  Ugh feelings are confusing.  

Not wanting the conversation to end so soon the waiter decided to get to know him better “Do you like your job?” The chefs’ response was curated, structured and worded so any reporter would be satisfied, but that wasn’t what Rody wanted, he wanted the unfiltered truth. “I’ve dedicated my life to making the bistro as successful as it is now.” Rody pushed on, looking for a more genuine answer, “well, for someone who claims that they’re a proud owner of this restaurant I don’t think I’ve actually... You know, see you cook?” Surprise spread across Vince’s face, like he’d never been asked such a simple question. He looked embarrassed for a moment before returning the question to Rody “...What about you.” He seemed to genuinely care, it made him feel all cosy inside. “-Me? I mean, it pays me money...?” He felt awkward, no one had ever cared about him before. “What did you want to do before this then, I doubt you wanted to wait tables for a living-” He didn’t know what to do with this attention, someone actually wanted to get to know him, not even Manon asked him this many questions about himself. “Well, I uh... I guess I was studying in school for something for a bit.” The chef followed up asking what he was studying, this felt, intimate, understanding one another like this. “...You’re definitely gonna make fun of me if I told you-” Vince averted his eyes for a moment “you don’t need to worry about that-” smirking slightly “it can’t be any more embarrassing than you are now.” Feigning anger Rody retorted “yeah see this talk is exactly what I mean-”   

Distantly realised he was having fun; he liked talking to the other man, he used to feel the same about Ma- no, he needed to stop, this wasn’t healthy. Instead, he shifted his questioning, “are you single?” He could tell he caught the chef off guard, his lips parted slightly, and his eyes locked onto Rody’s. “Why do you ask?” He wasn’t sure how to respond, why did he ask that? “Um you know, just curious, I mean look at you the ladies must be grabbing at you.” It was as though Vince could feel his nervousness, but he ultimately left him alone. “I have no shortage of women, but I don’t find them... stimulating.” It took the waiter a minute to process this, he had never heard someone claim that women were not stimulating enough for a relationship. “Besides” Vince continued, “I have more important things to worry about at the moment, maybe in the future.” A small smile stretched onto his face that Rody wouldn’t know what else to call other than flirtatious before being sent back to the dining area, more confused than before.  

His shift continued as normal until his next stop into the kitchen to take the trash out, he noticed a small black rat in the corner of the room. None of the other chefs appeared to notice. Feeling sorry for the small rodent he fed it a torn off piece of cheese, watching as it scurried into a hole in the wall. Vince would probably kill him if he found out about that, but the rat seemed harmless, so he left it be.   

Completing his shift the day felt shorter than the rest, with nothing else to report he was free to go home. Not that much was waiting for him. Yet again he was rewarded with leftovers, a strawberry cheesecake. The leftovers had grown to be a highlight of his day; they gave him something to look forward too. They made him feel... cared for. Silly really, he was only given them as they were dead plates. And besides, they felt more like a bribe, a reward to promote good behaviour, he felt like a rat. Speaking of, he hoped that little rat was alright... and not going to contaminate the food.  

Trudging into his apartment Rody completed his nightly ritual of eating and waiting on the end of the phone. When did life get so bland? For his days to be filled with a menial job and his nights to be clouded with loneliness. His only real solitude this past week has been Vince, and that’s his boss. Ultimately deciding not to think too much about that last thought Rody once again found sleep seeping in, pulling him from consciousness.  

Everything was too tight. His limbs felt pinned. Struggling all he liked nothing seemed to work. It was like he was in a plastic wrap, film surrounding him, weighing him down, packaged neatly like food items on the shelves.

Chapter 5: Eat You

DAY 5  

By his 5 th shift he felt accustomed to the busy life of being a waiter at a 5-star restaurant. He had completed most of his work ahead of schedule and the customers were satisfied so he chanced going into the back to speak with Vince once more. He's not sure why he’s so drawn to him, but he decided to stop questioning it. “Hey Vince!” The older man seemed quite pleased to see the waiter “hi Ro- Jesus, you look terrible, did you get any sleep last night?” The concern in his voice made Rody bashful, “...I had a nightmare.” The chef didn’t seem to be bothered by his confession, still focusing on caring for the man instead “yeah, I can tell, did you need to ask something?” Excited he got to have another conversation with his boss he eagerly asked him “what’s your favourite food?” Vince looked a tad uncomfortable before saying he didn’t have a favourite. Rody was shocked by this, pressing further “that’s pretty noncommittal.” Sighing he replied, “there isn’t a lot I can choose from, but I guess, lemons.” This got his attention, “like lemon pie? Lemon tarts??” His boss seemed to roll his eyes at this “no, just lemons.” The waiter pondered this for a moment “how can you stand just eating raw lemons?? Aren’t they sour?” Vince seemed to get quiet at this “I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any sense of taste.” Originally, he thought the chef was referring to the decor before Vince revealed the true nature of the comment “I lost my ability to taste food when I was younger.”   

Realisation dawned on him in that moment “woah- what, really?? No wonder your food tastes like that; you must be a miserable cook!” Annoyed Vince glared at him, demeanour changing “what’s wrong with my cooking?” Backing up slightly he put his hands up defensively “A- erm, nothing sir!!” Calming down he returned the question, “what about you, what’s your favourite food?” It was nice to have someone take an active interest in his life. “Do I have to pick just one?” Vince smirks slightly “that sounds pretty noncommittal.” Ah, he had said that hadn’t he. This almost felt like flirt- to distract himself he responded “...I guess I eat whatever my girlfriend’s into?” The older man folded his arms, claiming that was also not an answer. “It’s still better than lemons .” This was fun, teasing each other. “ Never mind. ”  

Vince pulled out an article, taking a minute to read through. Rody couldn’t keep his curiosity hidden “what are you reading?” Vince barely spared him a glance “restaurant reviews.” The waiter got excited “what does it say? Does it mention me?” The boss paused for a moment, almost like he was considering, “...They didn’t mention you, no.” Rody felt disappointment “aww, damn- guess they don’t appreciate good service!” He saw a soft smile on the chefs' face, tenderly saying “I guess not” before scribbling on the piece of paper and returning it to his back pocket.   

Feeling the ache set into his bones the waiter looked pleadingly at Vince, “can I have a break? I’m getting kind of tired.” Puzzled Vince looked at him “why, did you not have anything for lunch?” Rody looked uneasy before carefully choosing his words, admitting that he didn’t have enough money to bring anything in. “Hm, I suppose I could let you eat the leftovers of patrons that didn't finish their meals after all...” Rody felt a surge of happiness “really?! You're being serious? -” the man took a step closer “sure I am.” A wicked smile upturned his lips before he leant into the waiters’ space, his breath tickling his neck “ But you better enjoy those meals more than those fucking customers did and appreciate the table scraps I'm bothered to feed you. Once your shifts over all these dishes better be licked fucking spotless or all these meals are coming out of your pay check, alright? ” Timidly Rody nodded his head “... aye aye sir...”  

It was a later shift, so he got the privilege of closing up. It felt strange, he was trusted with such a large task, what with Vincent's apartment being just upstairs, but he hadn't seen the chef all day so perhaps he was too sick to close himself. Anyway, it felt odd to do such an important job when this was still only his first week working here, although it felt like much longer. He didn’t mind this type of shift though, he could lounge around his apartment in the day; not like there was much to do but he enjoyed having some time off (probably should’ve spent the time cleaning up but after spending 4 days cleaning up after other people and having to do it again later he thought he deserved a break.) After making sure the dining area of the restaurant was clean Rody meandered his way into Vince’s office. What he was just curious okay? It was totally not creepy and not because he wanted to get to know the man better. It was strictly regular curiosity that scratched at the back of his mind.  

Taking a look in his cabinets, he found lots of paperwork, recipes, ingredients, tax forms, all very bland, although it looks like he does all the budgeting himself, not surprising to Rody as the man seemed to have a slight control issue. It was nice that he was in control though, it meant Rody didn’t need to be, it gave him some respite, a change to be the one taken care of. Ahem, that was a track his train of thought could have ignored. Moving on through his office he found glowing newspaper reviews of the restaurant, although including a slight dig at the service ( hey! ) But what was surprising was that Vince had scribbled all over the clipping, annotating positive changes he would make, but he had completely scribbled over the negative comment clearly made about Rody. He felt his chest tighten and face begin to warm. Did Vince not care that he had gotten a bad review? Or maybe did Vince care more about him? A smile crept onto his face before physically shaking it away, now is not the time.  

He found next to this a picture frame covered in dust. Picking the frame up Rody used his sleeve to rub away the dust, blowing lightly. The picture inside appeared to be Vince’s parents, odd that it was left here untouched. Perhaps he didn’t have a good homelife? “He definitely takes after his mother.” Placing the picture back where he found it Rody continued his search. Heading to the trashcan on his final stretch of the room a crumpled photograph piqued his attention. Carefully picking it up Rody’s eyes widened, breathes coming out quick and laboured. “Wait... Is that?”   

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Who he was seeing. Manon??? Inspecting the photo further he saw that both her and his boss where in the photo; frantically he dug through the rest of the rubbish pulling out obvious love letters, addressed to Vince, signed M. They had to be from her, surely. Rody felt his stomach twist into a knot, how could she? How could he? Did he even know? Then why was he being so nice, being so- stop. He needed to calm down and re-evaluate. Grabbing his leftovers (croque madame this time) he sped home.   

When he arrived home, he thought about continuing his routine, but was it even worth it after- no, he needed answers. Calling her again he sat and waited, and waited, and waited. Nothing. Sighing he retrieved his leftovers looking at the cold plate, he might as well eat. Digging in he tried to forget about what he saw, the damning evidence, maybe he had to speak to Vince, if she was going to keep ignoring him, his boss certainly couldn’t. With his newfound determination Rody settled down for bed, praying for an easier sleep not filled with nightmares. Unfortunately, when was life ever so generous?  

The heat was unbearable, scorching. Pain flickered through his body, he tried to push against the walls but to no avail, he was trapped, in an oven. Could he escape this? What was going to happen to him? Sweat dripped out of his pores, drenching him, sliding down his body as he squeezed his eyes shut, his body cooking slowly inside and out.  

 

Chapter 6: Dinner Is Not Over

DAY 6  

Waking up in a cold sweat he shook himself out of his trance, he needed to get ready for work and didn’t have time to be reminiscing on his nightmare. He could still feel the scratches of embers at his oesophagus, hurriedly moving to get a glass of water and gulping it down harshly before sighing in content. He dressed in his work attire and mentally prepared for the day ahead.  

Work went smoothly for the first part. Customers were kindly patient, a rarity, the food was exquisite as always, the flow of the restaurant was moving steadily. Rody actually quite enjoyed his job, to others it may seem mediocre, a menial task but he thrives at the social interactions, at observing the detail put into preparing dishes, and yes, the waiter can comfortably say that his boss is a positive of working here. The man appears cold, but when you speak to him to feel his passion, experience the dedication he has, the devotion, it’s alluring.   

Strolling into the kitchen Rody observed that the chef was not in his usual area where he would be instructing and overseeing the other chefs. Odd. Sad, really, he was hoping to get to know him more. Leaving the kitchen, he pondered about Vince and his strange yet somehow endearing habits. A loud KLANG   stripped him from his thoughts. Scanning the dining area, he saw a knife had fallen from one of the back tables. Striding towards the table he approached the old couple, offering them a sweet smile before retrieving the knife for them.   

What.  

Is.  

That?  

As he bent down, he saw it. A hole in the wall. A hole in the wall with an eye staring right back at him. The almost black iris bearing into his soul, searching, haunting. Snapping back up Rody bid the customers a farewell and retreated to the kitchen, where Vince stood, completely unfazed. Had he imagined it? No. He didn’t. This wasn’t something he could dwell on though, he had a shift to finish, maybe this was Vincent’s way of keeping tabs on him too, supervising him as well as the cooks. He tried to push the earlier events out of his mind and focused on getting through the last of his shift, being rewarded with those same eyes staring deeply into his as Vince handed him his leftovers: a fresh lemon tart. It brought a smile to the waiters' lips, lemon, huh.  

By the time Rody got home he was exhausted. A part of him felt scopophobic, unsettled by the constant eyes, but a larger part of him felt comforted? No that isn’t the right word. But he felt seen in a good way, like he was known and taken care of, Vince would always take care of him. The leftovers were proof of that. Rody suspected that not all the meals he had been given were actually ‘leftovers’ but today confirmed his suspicions as lemon tart was not on the menu, which meant Vince made this specifically with him in mind. It brought a gooey feeling on in his chest, oozing around his heart like syrup. Yet he couldn’t shake the phantom feeling of crawling on his skin, prickling under and seeping into him, bones and all.   

The high-pitched ringing ripped him from his daydreams. Scrambling towards the phone he hurriedly answered it “hi, hello? Manon, is that you?” A sultry voice sang down the line “ pardon? ” Flustered Rody fumbled with the phone for a second before remembering to continue the conversation “oh Vince! - Sorry about that, I thought... Never mind, what’s up?” This felt different, maybe it was the fact they were talking outside of work, but that shouldn’t make this much of a difference surely. “Are you free tonight? I’m hosting a dinner party at my apartment and was checking if you’d be available.” The words spilled out, sweet like honey and made Rody a whole new type of nervous, not just a healthy fear of authority but something deeper. “Oh, that’s what you meant- wait, you’re inviting me ?” As blunt as always Vince retorted with “is that a yes, or a no?” Gosh he had never felt so nervous in his life, why did he feel like this was a date? “I- well- sure?? But before that I wanted to ask you about-” Vincent had cut him off before he could continue, clearly agitated and in a hurry. “Be there in the next few minutes.” The line was dead before Rody could respond. Guess he can just ask in person.  

He hurried to Vince’s apartment, this felt wrong, like walking into a mouse trap, should he turn back? Fake a car accident? Actually, that’s a bit extreme, even for him. Before he could second guess himself, he was outside of his home, Vince must have seen him because the door opened without him knocking. “Oh good, you made it.” Rody wanted to scream, what with his conflicting feelings about his boss, and the picture he found of Manon, he really shouldn’t be here, if only he realised how terrible an idea this was before showing up. “OHhh hey!” The slight voice crack made him wince. Smooth. “Yep, here I am, in the flesh, wow, super stoked to be here, wouldn’t want to be in any other place on this fine night!” His nervous rambling was not helping in the slightest.  

The smirk Vince shot him with made his chest feel tight. “You don't need to act so excited. Come in.” The chef didn’t seem to be put off by the encounter, if anything it would be considered endearing. Seriously what is wrong with him, he should not be feeling this way for another man- for his boss! He needs to calm down and get through the evening, after all, he still needed to confront Vincent about Manon. “Right, uh- pardon the intrusion, wow, this place sure looks... uh... well. Your taste in interior design never goes anywhere I guess... Hold on a sec, where are- I thought you said this was a dinner party?” The chef paid him no mind as they traipsed further into the apartment, casually responding that it is. “Then why am I the only guest here?” This made Vince pause for a moment, giving him a questionable look. “Guest?” Rody was confused, why had he been invited over, and was no one else going to show up? “Yeah? I'm supposed to be your guest, right?” Was this really a date?  

Vince laughed. Actually laughed. It seemed to be a mix of a giggle and a chuckle; a smile spread across his face making Rody's’ heat in return. “No. I had to find someone to cater for them when they arrive.” Snapping out of his haze it was the waiters turn to pause, once again confused. “...Wait, you called me here for work?” Oh. Well, that stung. Rody thought the chef wanted to spend time with him, maybe even- “The dishes are on the kitchen counter. Go fetch them and ask around if anyone wants one when they get here.” Vincent had begun walking away before Rody could even speak, calling after him and following him into the kitchen, “now listen here, I may work for you but I'm not some kind of your pet dog- Besides, I'm actually here to ask you about-” This time it was the doorbell ringing that cut him off. “That must be them. Were you saying something?” There was still time for Rody to back out, confront him and force him to listen, leave him stranded, but a bigger part of him wanted to do what the chef had asked, wanted to serve him, please him. “Gah! Alright, fine!”  

Rody was tasked with placing the expensive red wines out for the guests to sample and offering small serving platters. The task was simple, repetitive, mind-numbing. It almost made him forget why he wanted to speak to Vince in the first place, almost. He could do this, he was prepared for this, what he wasn’t prepared for was the onslaught of questions. He was asked how he knew Vincent, and after saying that he knew him from work the people he spoke to asked him about his profession and if the chef was paying him for being here. The conversation was quite standard, until someone mentioned a girlfriend, Vincent’s girlfriend. This caught Rody’s attention. They had assumed he had met the chef through her, although the ‘her’ in question is just a rumour, but when he asked for details about her, they assumed he was jealous, which was most definitely NOT the case. On the other hand... Maybe he could get some insight into how Vince knows these people. The guests seemed indifferent, saying they knew him through university and that he was just as harsh as before. Rody didn’t think of his boss that way, sure the man could be intense, but that just added to his character.   

The next person he catered was just a blunt as the previous, offering small talk about who he was, confirming he is a waiter and that his outfit choice was less than pleasing ( rude ). Unfortunately, he could not convince them he was Vince’s best friend, exclaiming that Vincent would never spend time with someone of his class. Seriously what is wrong with these people, they are so rude? The next guest was much the same, asking Rody on his thoughts on the food, such as the texture and the taste. He tried to praise Vince whilst still being honest, but he couldn’t help but mention that the food was somehow off, like it was self-absorbed, not cooked for others. Apparently, he was the only one who didn’t like this though. Weird.   

By the time he was serving the last plate of Hors d'ouevres he saw him . Well, it’s more like he saw Rody. Eyes following him like a predators’, ready to break him down. What the waiter wasn’t aware of was the second, deadlier pair of eyes lurking in the darkness, trained and unnerving, ready to pounce without hesitation. Taking a deep breath Rody faced the fourth and final guest. “I thought so, it is you! It's me, Richard from class!” He was cheery, sickeningly so, odd considering the way he was staring had no kindness behind it. “Econ, remember? I think you were majoring in hospitality, too!” He knew what he was doing. He was trying to get a reaction from Rody, but he had put that all behind him. “Right, ah. Right, college is a bit fuzzy for me.” And then came the blow. “I stopped seeing you after a while, did you switch majors?” He hated this line of questioning; Richard knew that, that’s why he did it. That son of a bitch. As if Rody hadn’t been struggling enough trying to fit in he had to make it worse.   

“Everyone in class thought you wouldn't keep up for long. Your poor parents- how did they take it? They must've been really disappointed.” How dare he bring them up. Rody needed to calm down, he didn’t want to make a scene, especially not when he was friends with his boss, he really wanted to get closer to Vince. No surprises Richard is making that difficult. “You know Rody, you're just as I remembered you .” An insult. Nothing new. A dig at his lower position, his failures and shortcomings. “What I really want to know is how in the world did you end up working for someone like Chef Charbonneau? Did you get on your knees and beg him or something? Haha.” Heat rushed to Rody’s face, of course Richard would make a comment. Clenching his fist and gritting his teeth Rody spat out “I gotta go piss.” He rushed away before things got worse, hearing Richard whine after him about his grace and manners. Well Richard can go. Fuck. Himself. Prick.   

He tried the first door after leaving the living room, finding the bathroom. Hunching over the porcelain sink he splashed ice cold water onto his face, little droplets dripping from his face as he sighed before leaning backwards. Finding a towel next to the sink hung up he scrubbed his face, hard. He wishes he could scrub the memories of college away, Richard away, be rid of him once and for all. God what was he even thinking, that’s crazy, of course he doesn’t want to hurt Richard. Glancing at the mirror once more he noticed the bath in the corner, straight edges where it connected to the wall and curved in an oval shape within the room, how did he not see this before? It was horrid, the shape, the style, honestly Vince really didn’t have any taste. Rody winced at his own thoughts, the last one making him feel extra guilty.   

Leaving the bathroom, he saw another door a little further down the hall. Deciding to investigate he entered the mysterious room to find Vince’s bedroom. Oh, this was definitely crossing a boundary, but he really wanted to get to know his boss better, there was something just so magnetic about him, Rody really couldn’t get enough. However, a deeper, darker part of him wanted more information on Vincent and Manon’s relationship, what were they really to each other? Looking around the room it was incredibly neat, nothing out of place, no spare clothes lying around, the complete opposite of Rody’s living situation. Ruffling through his desk all he managed to find were some bistro related awards and notes that were practically illegible, odd considering Vince is so meticulous in every other aspect of his life. It was actually quite nice to see the man had some flaws and wasn’t as perfect as he always seemed. The way he conducted himself was honestly intimidating, but this almost felt like it made him more human. Moving on Rody reached the window, looking out onto the street, the lamp illuminating the shadowy figure staring back at him.  

Wait.  

WHAT.  

Taking a second look, the figure was gone. As if it had never been there at all it had vanished. He felt like he was going crazy, he was sure he saw it, there was no way he made that up. Feeling his heart rate increase he stumbles back into Vince’s bedside table. The panic subsided as he reminded himself of why he was here, he just wanted to do a quick snoop and then he could go back to the party. A loud bang rang through the air, momentarily distracting him, probably a champagne cork. Opening the drawer he found a small key, simple and silver. Wondering what it could possibly be for he pocketed it without a second thought. After closing the draw, he lent against the mattress on the bed, feeling the plush material cave under his weight. Wow that was soft . Climbing onto the silk sheets he laid on his back, feeling the smooth material under his body, sliding his hands across the surface whilst smiling to himself, he could get used to being in a bed again, not just any bed though, he would love to wake up in this bed each morning, surrounded in comfort. A cough interrupted his thoughts, turning back to face the door he jumped up into a sitting position, startled.   

“Looking for anything specific?” Shit. He was caught red handed, this was embarrassing. Vincent was leant against the doorframe, his expression hardened and fixed on Rody. “Um- I, uh- I was lacking for the naproom?” Vince’s expression changed to one of pure confusion, clearly trying to decipher the words. “...What?” Flustered Rody cleared his voice, correcting himself. “I was looking for the bathroom to nap in? But I found your room instead and it seemed much more comfortable, so I just thought that-” a slight chuckle stopped him in his tracks. Focusing his eyes on Vince he saw the man smiling fondly at him, more relaxed than before. “You don't have to serve the other guests anymore, come on.” That filled him with dread again, he really didn’t want to go back to the party, even if he was now technically a guest and no longer working. He also still hadn’t asked about Manon, and by now he was desperate for answers.   

“Can we talk?” Upon hearing the seriousness of his tone, the chef in turn stopped smiling, moving slightly further into the room. “What's gotten you all worked up?” Rody took a deep breath, this was the moment, the answers he needed. “How do you know Manon?” Vince’s brows furrowed a tad before looking quizzically at the waiter, “who?” He couldn’t believe what he just heard. “My- Manon , the one who's picture you have in your office, the one who's been sending you letters, my girlfriend ?”   

“Are you sure we're thinking of the same girl?”  

“I saw the picture of course I'm-”  

“Because that Manon said she'd dumped some pathetic red haired plouc a week ago, so it can't be the same one.”  

“Well- Yeah, but...-”  

“Stay out of my office, Rody.”  

That wasn’t a request, it was a demand. Rody didn’t know what to do, he knows they’re the same Manon, does Vincent truly not? The waiter needed a moment to compose himself, Vincent said Manon dumped Rody a week ago, so they can’t be dating already surely, and- wait a second. “I thought you said you don’t like women?” Vincent was looking at him with an unsettling expression, something about it came off as a warning that he should be careful with how he chooses his words. “If you don’t like women, why would you be with Manon?” A sharp laugh rang through the quiet room, catching him off guard. “We aren’t together, she might have had a little obsession, but I can assure you that was the extent. Is this why you seemed off earlier? You know it's rude to snoop through other people's things Rody, you had no business being in my office, or my bedroom for that matter.” Heat rushed to his cheeks as he stuttered out an apology for his earlier behaviour and multiple invasions of privacy. Vince only gave a nod before exiting the room, Rody following obediently.   

Rody mentally prepared himself for the inevitable comments from Richard, only to find the living room completely deserted. “Where'd everyone go?” The waiter thought this was quite odd, it was still early yet everyone had gone home, and the dinner party had ended. “Something came up.” That made Rody pause, that was weird, what could have happened? “Is everything ok?” Vincent had an eery look about him, dangerous. “Vince?” There was another beat of silence before Vincent finally answered. “You better go home. You have work in the morning.” It was dismissive, a clear declaration that whatever came up was not to be mentioned again. Sighing in defeat Rody said his goodbyes “Well, thanks for the party, I guess... Good night, Vince.” The chef offered him a smile. “Night, Rody, and before you go, I made you something extra special for your work tonight.” Vince had actually cooked something, with Rody specifically in mind, it made his chest tighten as his face warmed, this was so sweet of him. Taking the food, he thanked Vince once more and left to go home.  

Strolling into his dirty apartment Rody haphazardly tossed his boots and jacket into a random corner. Taking in his surroundings his nose scrunched up in distaste.  When did things get this bad? The sink was overflowing with dishes that appeared to be mouldy, the sofa was covered in unidentifiable stains of multiple colours, food containers and worn clothes scattered across the floor causing obstructions. He really needed to sort his life out.  

Ultimately deciding he wanted to live another day he opted out of attempting to cook his own dinner, if he managed to burn cereal just what would he do if he was trying to use fire. Taking a deep breath, he made his way over to the meal Vincent had sent him home with, and how sweet it was that someone had made something for him, had cared about him and wanted to treat him. Wandering over to the counter he left it on he retrieved the dish and some utensils, returning Rody sank into his sofa, the springs protruding uncomfortably into him.  

Unwrapping the plate, he eyed up the food, grilled hangar steak, a delicacy. He stabbed into the meat with a fork before tearing into it with his knife severing off a small piece of the cut and bringing it to his mouth, chewing slowly.   

It was like nothing he had ever experienced before. What once was bitter and somewhat lacking despite its stunning reviews was finally living up to its reputation. The smoky flavour mixed with a healthy hint of garnish exploded his taste buds, the medium rare cut oozing a trickle of blood, opening a new avenue for appreciation for food in contrast to just consuming for the necessity of energy to live. This was different, he wasn’t eating to live, the food made him feel alive , something he didn’t realise he was missing in his life.   

Up until this point his purpose in life was to serve his lover, to be their everything like they were his. That all changed when Manon left, who was he without her? He only got his job as a waiter at La Gueule de Saturne to afford to woo her and win her back, prove that he could be financially stable and support her, love her. When was the last time he was himself, not just an extension of the person he loved?  

As wave after wave of sensation flooded his taste a content feeling spread throughout his body. He was free. He didn’t even realise he was trapped but now he sees that he is free. Teeth tearing through the meat, ravaging the meal yet still savouring it he recalled his past week working under Vincent. Sure, the man was aggressive and intimidating, but he also had a confident aura surrounding him that Rody admired. Possibly more than admired.   

Vincent had worked hard for his position in life, even overcoming his adversity and embracing his lack of taste instead of letting it hold him back. Rody couldn’t even begin to imagine how difficult that must have been, but as he ripped through another layer of meat he thought to himself, when was the last time he tasted something so magical, so thought consuming? Hell, when was the last time he ate to taste, had he ever? Perhaps this was the first time he had truly tasted, maybe his boss wasn’t the only one lacking flavour in his life. And he owed his revelation all to Vince.   

Swallowing another mouthful of what can only be described as the most moorish cut of pork he’d ever had he reflected on his previous relationship with Manon and his current affliction with his boss. The man was harsh, cruel even, determined and unwavering, yet also considerate, elaborate, and yes begrudgingly Rody can admit that the man was fairly handsome. I mean he couldn’t have not noticed after being in such close quarters with the man for a week.   

As his teeth ripped into the very last of the dish, flavours dancing on his tongue, he appreciated all that Vincent had done for him, from drying his hair (albeit a somewhat insult to his competence) to lending him an umbrella for his cycle home, the kind of care Rody would only supply to a loved one. When was the last time someone took care of Rody instead of the other way around? It felt nice, refreshing, leaving a warm feeling that coursed throughout his body.  

Pushing himself from his position on the sofa he moved his empty plate to the pile of dirty dishes abandoned in his unwashed sink, promising to himself he would clean them eventually. Trudging back to his sofa he laid across the lumpy cushions, mentally scolding himself for procrastinating purchasing a proper bed.   

Slowly letting his eyes droop he fantasised about the dead plates of tomorrow and what dishes he could try, the freezer key he had obtained nights prior at Vince’s weighing heavy in his pocket. Perhaps he could take a sneak peek inside the freezer during one of Vince’s smoke breaks, he couldn’t contain his curiosity of what could be on the unpredictable menu and his possible dinner, if his boss’s unprovoked generosity so far was anything to go by he was fairly sure he would be receiving another free meal. Letting the giddiness of these thoughts wash over him he slipped into his first peaceful slumber in weeks.   

Chapter 7: Butcher Vanity

DAY 7  

When Rody woke up he was disappointed to find he was still on his sofa and not back in Vince’s smooth silk sheets. Removing himself from the lumpy sofa he got dressed for work again, except this time he remembered the key he had obtained the night prior. He wondered what it was for, curiosity getting the better of him he decided to bring it to work with him, he knows Vincent told him not to snoop but he couldn’t help it, there was something about his boss that he couldn’t help but want to learn more about. It was a healthy curiosity, nothing more nothing less. Besides, they seemed to have gotten closer after the dinner party, perhaps they could even call each other friends, and friends share secrets with one another. It was decided, he was going to find out what significance this key has, today.  

The workday continued as usual, it was fairly quiet with a pleasant atmosphere, the food was quick to cook, the service ran smoothly and even the customers were on their best behaviour. It felt like the perfect day to do some snooping. He was in an especially good mood, as the customers were being far nicer than previous times, likely due to his increased availability since he was waiting less tables.  

Rody was on the close again, so he decided to investigate the use for the key after hours, after all he had less chances of being caught, the only reason Vince knows about his previous attempts were because he told him. Waiting until his final table had been served Rody officially closed the bistro, and head to the kitchen.  

He decided to start first with the chef's office, since the key was inside his bedside table it most likely has personal significance. Searching the cabinets and cupboards none seemed to have any locks on them, and there was no new information dotted around. Moving along with the search Rody re-entered the kitchen before eyeing the big walk-in freezer with a large metal lock on the front. Maybe? Taking the key from his pocket, he inserted it into the lock, turning until he heard a click, the lock falling away. Creaking open the heavy door he slipped inside, slamming shut behind him.  

The freezer was dark and cold, exactly what you’d expect, but also there was something unnerving, chilling in a way that seeped into his bones and lingered unlike just the regular cold. Perhaps it was the idea of butchered animals being kept here. Yes, that had to be it. But it felt odd. Why would Vince keep the freezer key in such a private location and not with his other keys? Furrowing his brow Rody explored the depths of the freezer, he never knew how spacious it would be.   

The smell was abhorrent. It infiltrated his senses and bullied his eyes into watering. What could possibly smell like that? Deciding he had had enough exploring Rody turned to leave, accidentally knocking an item on the floor with his foot. A loud KLANG could be heard and as he looked down, he discovered a... wait what? Is that a hack saw? He didn’t know much about the butchering and preparing of meat, but he was fairly certain that was not an appropriate tool.   

The saw was drenched in blood too, leaving a smeared mess on the icy floor. Finally allowing himself to look up and away from the strange weapon he saw it. He saw her. What? How could this have happened? Rody knew she wasn’t answering his calls but that was because she was busy right? Or ignoring him? Not... She can’t be... That can’t be her. Taking shaky steps towards the body, he knelt down to look at her. He discovered she was completely mutilated, limbs severed from her torso, an arm missing, the mess from the rip still evident, not a clean cut. Her body was gutted and drained, a husk, her once beautiful hair spilling onto the cold floor around her lifeless form, the blonde tinged with blood to create an off pink.  

There was so much blood, too much blood, how could she have bled so much? And was that? Oh god it was her intestines, or at least what looked like intestines, tugged out of her body and dumped around her haphazardly. Rody could have sworn humans were supposed to have more organs than what she had, had someone removed them? Why would someone do that? What kind of monster would do this?   

He was going to throw up, he felt his stomach churning the longer he looked at her. His perfect Manon. Looking into her dead eyes that bore into his soul he couldn’t help but panic. What was happening? When did this happen? He had so many questions. His main question: why? She was such a kind and loving person, she didn’t deserve this .   

A wave of numbness crashed over him. Manon was dead, his Manon. Was she even his anymore? How long had he been without her? Gazing at her dismembered body he was entranced, he always thought a mutilated body would be hard to identify when they looked like this . But she was still her , she was still his Manon, except she technically wasn’t, not anymore. Now she was a corpse, a shredded body ripped to pieces. She wasn’t a missing person, she was dead. His mind wandered to the love letters he found, and the way Vincent had talked about her. Surely he didn’t do this? Right? But who else could it have been? How could this have happened? If only he had been a more attentive boyfriend, maybe then she wouldn’t have left him, she wouldn’t have met Vincent or started talking to him, she wouldn’t have fallen for him, trusted him, she wouldn’t be...  

Rody was paralysed as the door quietly creaked open before clicking shut, enclosing them in the privacy of darkness once more. Rody didn’t know what to do, all the air left his lungs in a single breath as he attempted to turn towards the door, before a pounding in his head burst through to his skull as it exploded in pain. The world was black before he hit the solid ice-cold ground.   

Notes:

From here on out it is no longer canon compliant and picks up a bit more, hope you've liked it so far :)

Chapter 8: Cannibal Lover

DAY ?  

Swirls of colour danced behind his lids as he groaned in pain, eyes fluttering open to the assaulting light, forcing him to wince in pain. “Are you finally awake?” The voice was familiar, but his head hurt too much to try to identify it. A hand carded through his hair gently before tracing down the side of his face, gripping his jaw securely and lifting it up. “Don’t ignore me when I’m talking to you Rody.” Ah, that harsh tone can only be one person. Blinking, he adjusted to the light and was met with Vincent’s face staring back at him, emotionless. Attempting to move his muscles to stretch out he encountered resistance, thick ropes binding him to what he assumed to be a chair. A whimper escaped his mouth as he finally acknowledged the situation he was in, using his limited access to movement to take in his surroundings. He seemed to be in Vince’s apartment, tied up with a throbbing in the back of his head and nausea clouding his senses.   

“What happened?” He didn’t expect the croak in his voice, but the chef seemed sympathetic, picking up a bottle of water from the coffee table and opening it for Rody, offering it to him. The waiter opened his mouth slightly as Vince gently tilted the water so he could sip slowly, being careful not to drink too much. When he was done Rody breathed deeply, ordering his thoughts. “Why am I tied up, what are you doing?” He was answered with a sigh as Vincent sat back on his sofa opposite him. “I needed you to be calm for this conversation, couldn’t have you running out on me. Now, I’m assuming you have a few questions for me, so feel free to ask away and I will answer to the best of my ability.” He spoke in a cold distant manner, almost clinical. That reminded him of the blood, so much blood. The nausea came flooding back, Manon.    

“Manon- you- she... You killed her?”   

“I did.”  

“Why!?” His voice cracked, emotion slipping through as a sob followed.  

“I did it for you.” Rody paused, for him?  

“WHY WOULD I WANT THAT!?” Vincent’s eyes squinted, a frown spreading across his face.  

“Do you really not understand? She was awful to you. Nothing you did was ever good enough for her, you gave her your all, the world and she didn’t appreciate it. Yet still you loved her, needed her. So, I gave you her.”  

“BY KILLING HER? I DON’T UNDERSTAND!” Vince stood up, striding towards him and placing his hands on Rody’s cheeks, gently wiping away tears he didn’t know he shed.   

“Shh shh it’s okay, you’re okay. You wanted her, and so I gave you her. I did this because I care for you, I love you, I can give you the world, everything you could want, so now you have her, forever. She will always be a part of you.”   

“What does that even mean?” His voice calmed to a whisper, quiet sniffles leaving him as Vince continued to gently caress his face, cradling him.   

“I was always told my cooking lacked love, but I needed to show you how I felt, and what better way to cook with love than to use an ingredient you love? Did you enjoy the steak?” The smile Vincent flashed made Rody feel sick. Was he saying... Oh god he actually was going to throw up. His face grew paler and paler; Vince seemed to notice the situation, leaving the room momentarily to retrieve a bucket just in time for him to vomit.   

“You know it’s a bit late for that, she’s already been digested.” The confirmation induced another round of vomiting, tears slipping from his eyes again, streaming down his face.  

Vincent scowled moving away from Rody and leaving the bucket within reach of him. “That’s no way to thank someone. I gave you a gift you ungrateful brat.” The way he spat out those words made the waiter flinch, breathing deeply through his nose, hiccupping periodically, trying to calm himself down for fear of annoying Vincent more.   

The two stared at each other for a few moments in silence. Vince smiled once more, moving slowly towards him and reaching a hand out to press against the side of his neck. “Thank you for calming down, I understand this has been a very big day and you probably will want to sleep, we can talk more tomorrow, for now let's get you cleaned up and comfortable.” Rody didn't know how to respond as he was untied. “Oh, and don’t try to run, I’ve secured the apartment so if you get any ideas, you won’t get far, I will make sure of that.” Vince helped him up and walked him to the bathroom where that godforsaken bath sat in the corner. Rody can’t believe he was going to have to use it.   

“You are not putting me in that disgusting fucking bath.” Vincent let out a displeased sigh, crossing his arms disapprovingly. “What is wrong with my bath? And you are too filthy to be refusing.” Rody flinched at the cruel tone, feeling self-conscious. The chef rolled his eyes before approaching him, gripping the bottom of his shirt before throwing it off his body and doing the same to his lower half until he was completely bare. Rody was left shivering as the revolting bath filled with steaming water, Vince knelt with his hand submerged, likely to check the temperature. Huh, considerate. No wait, he killed someone, his girlfriend ! And made him eat her! He was not a good man and shouldn’t be tricked into thinking he was.  

Before he knew it the bath was full; hands carefully caressed his skin as he was helped into the water. It was the perfect temperature and soothed the aches in his muscles. Lathered fingers began to work their way into his hair, untangling any knots and massaging into his scalp. Rody’s eyes began to slip shut, the peaceful tranquillity of being washed lulling him to sleep before a sharp pain in the back of his head made him wince. Vince muttered a soft apology, cautiously and meticulously cleaning the wound before rinsing him off.   

He repeated this with some conditioner, lovingly attending to him. Fatigue spread through his body, followed by the delicate touch of Vince’s fingertips as he cleaned him up. Rody was asleep before the chef had a chance to rinse him, leaving him to finish the rest, dry him off, and carry the waiter across the hallway to his bedroom, softly laying him down onto the silk sheets and joining him, laying a protective arm over his torso to keep him close. Inhaling deeply the fresh sent of recently washed hair infiltrated his senses as he relaxed into the other man, a placid smile etched onto his face as he slipped out of consciousness.   

Chapter 9: Eat Your Young

DAY ??   

Rody’s hands slid across the familiar smooth texture beneath him, sighing he rolled onto his back, lolling his head to the side, Vince staring back at him intensely. “Good morning Rody.” He shrieked, scrambling backwards as he recalled previous events, pressing his back against the bed side table, nowhere left to run. “Would you please calm down, I’m not going to hurt you, I did this all for you. Now can we please get ready for the day, I’ve closed the bistro so we can have a calm conversation” his tone changed in a second, Vincent’s voice becoming tense “don’t make me need to restrain you again.” Rody’s heart rate sped up as he hurriedly shook his head. “Good, now let's get you dressed.” Glancing down he noticed he was still naked, feeling awkward he attempted to cover himself, Vince made no move to stop him, simply getting out of bed to hand him some of his clothes from his wardrobe. “You can use my clothes for now. I hope they fit.” Vincent stayed in the room as Rody got dressed, carefully keeping an eye on him. Ah this felt familiar. He was always watching, wasn’t he?   

Once he was done getting dressed, he assessed the clothing, it clung tightly to his muscles but did not inhibit any movement, not too uncomfortable but not quite the correct size. The chef led him out of the room and down the hallway to the bathroom where Rody could brush his teeth. He made a conscious effort to ignore the eyesore in the corner of the room. Once he was ready to two walked back to the living room, Vincent always close enough that Rody couldn’t do anything if he tried.   

But if he was being honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he wanted to get away, at least not yet, Vincent said he could ask questions, and assured him that he wouldn’t hurt him, that he... loved him. Besides he could wait, stay and get his answers then slip away once Vincent trusts him. It might take a while, but it will all be worth it, he can go to the police, get help, avenge Manon. Feeling satisfied with his plan he followed his boss and sat down on the large sofa.   

Breathing heavily Rody turned to face him, mentally preparing himself, “tell me everything about Manon , from start to finish. I need to know.” Vincent gave a curt nod. “I met her whilst out walking to the bistro, I had just picked up a few supplies for the new dishes. She offered to help me carry the food in, so I accepted. We spoke about the restaurant, and I told her I was the owner and a chef. She said that she likes to bake, that her ex-boyfriend- you, I presume, always enjoyed it.” Rody felt like he was going to cry. “I didn’t.” He tried to smile as tears welled in his eyes. “I didn’t like her baking; she always forgot to put in simple ingredients like sugar” he managed a small laugh before continuing “but I always pretended that I loved it because she made it for me and that was love.”   

Vince reaches a hand over to place on Rody’s knee, his thumb drawing small soothing patterns, “that’s what my cooking has been for you, those ‘leftovers’ the meals, I made them for you, made with love so that you might love me back.” He shuffled closer, close enough Rody could feel his breath on his neck, but he didn’t dare move away. The way Vince looked at Rody made him feel like the only person in the world, special, seen . Awkwardly clearing his throat, he asked him to continue talking about Manon. Vincent sighed, removing his hand and repositioning himself further away. “Originally, I tried to get her away, as you are well aware women are not exactly within my interests, but she insisted we go to a restaurant, claiming we deserve to be cooked for, for once.” Rody felt his shoulders sag in relief “so she wasn’t trying to date you then?” At this Vince seemed to look almost guilty. “I don’t think those were her immediate intentions, however after that she started to get clingy, a bother. Constantly comparing me to you, saying how I was better than you in every aspect” ouch “but then you came into the restaurant for a job, you were so full of life, clumsy but hard working, funny but focused, it was endearing. That was when I knew I had to get rid of her.”   

What?   

“...You knew who I was when I got my first shift?”   

“Of course I did, at first it was curiosity about you, then it became something else, something more, and I knew I had to have you, and I would do anything to keep you, so I gave you love: I fed you her.”   

He said it so matter-of-factly, like they were talking about the weather and not butchering his ex-girlfriend. He was going to be sick; he could feel his stomach churning at the thought. Rody couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What kind of psychopath was he working for? How long would it be before he snapped and hurt him too... He didn’t want to find out.   

“What exactly did you do?”  

“I invited her to the bistro late one night under the pretence of cooking for her.”  

The restaurant was dim, only a few low lights to illuminate the dining area. Manon gently opened the door, eager to see what Vincent had cooked for her. She undeniably was growing feelings for the chef and couldn’t contain her excitement to see him. Manon felt slightly guilty moving on from Rody so quickly, but their break-up was for the best, they both deserved happiness, but she couldn’t be the source of Rody’s happiness anymore, he needed to look after himself more, and she was allowed to move on to other people.   

Vincent was inside the bistro waiting for her, a smirk plastered on his face as he gestured for her to sit at a table for 2 and even offering to pull her seat out for her to sit, the epitome of a gentleman. Warmth spread through her chest as she took the seat, thanking him before he skulked to the kitchen, “I’ll be right back”. However, he did not return. After 30 minutes of waiting patiently she decided to investigate, abandoning her table and heading through the same doors he did that lead to the kitchen.   

Opening the doors and stepping into the kitchen it was immaculately clean, not a single pot or pan in sight. This was alarming, considering Vincent was supposed to be cooking back here. Out of the corner of her eye Manon noticed a flash of movement before the spiked end of a meat tenderiser collided with the side of her head, her body smashing to the ground. Distantly she recognised small drops of blood dripping onto the floor before the world faded to black.   

It was the cold that woke her up. Freezing ice cold. Vincent was leering over her, any resemblance of charm was gone, replaced by malice. Whimpering she attempted to crawl back but was met with resistance as her leg was tugged back, a cuff was attached to her binding her to the bottom of a column. “What do you want from me!?” She all but sobbed the words, curling in on herself, partially out of fear partially for warmth. “Rody, he was your ex-partner, correct?” Breathing heavily Manon nodded. “Why did things really end?” Confusion spread across her face “he prioritised me too much, wouldn’t care for himself, why does this even matter?” Vincent ignored her. “Does he love you?” At this she grew somber, eyes lowering “more than he should.” Vincent nodded “that’s all I need to know, don’t worry, I can care for him the way he needs, and you can help, wouldn’t you like that?” the smile he gave was dangerous, but before she could ask anything he had moved to the other side of the room to retrieve an item, the metal scraping along the floor as he dragged it over.  

When she identified the object, her screams echoed throughout the freezer, her hands grasping at the cuff in a futile attempt to escape. Vincent simply tutted before raising the hack saw, pressing the teeth into her upper right arm, the blade cutting in before he began to rip into the flesh, manoeuvring the saw back and forth. Her cries drowned out the sound of skin tearing and blood spilling onto the ice, the cold making her movements sluggish so she couldn’t fight back, completely at his mercy as he scratched through the first layer of fat and into the muscle. Her screams were guttural, voice becoming harsh and scratchy as black spots appeared in her vision, sight turning hazy until there was nothing.  

Vincent wore a maniacal smile, foregoing the weapon in favour of grabbing the open arm, twisting as hard as he could, pushing it to the ground and stomping on the bone, a sickly crunch giving way underneath, bone marrow seeping into the blood. Lifting the arm back up he sunk his teeth into the under part that had not been sawed, biting harshly into the flesh and ripping it off into his mouth, spitting it back onto the ground in a chewed-up mess, blood smearing across his face as he dove in for more. Vincent continued to pull animalistically untethering it, clawing her arm off, the flesh stretching as much as possible before snapping like elastic. The amount of blood was unimaginable, a constant flow dripping onto the floor, staining her skin and nice dress she wore for the evening, pooling on the floor.   

Kicking her over till she was lying on her back he picked the hack saw back up, using the blade to rip her dress down the middle, shredding the clothes and digging the metal into her belly, stabbing deeply and dragging it down slowly to create a large incision. Dropping the weapon once more, letting it KLANG onto the floor he dug his fingers into the wound, spreading the flesh and ripping her apart from the inside, reaching in further to retrieve some of her organs, picking out a kidney and her liver, tugging them from her body with a sickening squelch as he wrenched them free. Reaching for a case of ice he had pre prepared he carefully lowered the removed organs into the box to keep them chilled. Breathing heavily, he looked at his hands soaked in her blood, bringing his hands to his lips and running his tongue along his fingers and palm. Scrunching his face up he made a noise of disgust the texture was revolting, and he still couldn’t taste a thing, perhaps someone else will taste better , his mind flooded with images of Rody, satisfied with his meal, looking at Vince with a hunger in his eyes. Grinning he picked up the case, sparing Manon a single glance before leaving the freezer.   

“Ok stop.” Rody couldn’t hear any more, gripping Vincent’s arm he felt himself gag, vomiting onto the chef and himself, grimacing. His boss stared silently at the mess and Rody before letting out an annoyed huff. “You told me you wanted to know, you knew what you were signing up for and you throw up? You’re lucky I love you.” Rody’s head was spinning, Vincent butchered Manon and is acting like he’s overreacting? He felt the man next to him shuffling, removing his arm. Trying to focus his eyes the waiter looks at his boss who has been stripped of his shirt. “What-”   

“You got my clothes dirty, so I had to remove it, I suggest you do the same, unless you enjoy being covered in your own filth.” He could feel the judgement seeping into Vincent’s voice, causing a flush of embarrassment to splay on Rody’s face. Trying not to stare at the expanse of Vince’s chest he carefully removing his own shirt, aware of the spots of vomit he had to miss. “Go get cleaned up and I will make us some food.” That wasn’t a question, hesitantly standing up Rody went to the bathroom, alone. Vincent had gone to a spare room with their shirts likely to wash them, or burn them, he doesn’t seem like the type oof man to accept any amount of mess. With a moment finally to himself Rody let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.   

Trying to calm himself down he assessed the situation: his boss was holding him captive in his home after admitting to murdering Manon and feeding- he needed to escape somehow. Surveying the bathroom there didn’t appear to be a window, just that hideous bathtub. A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. “Um, just a sec! Trying to figure out what toothbrush to use!” He cringed at his own awkwardness, looking into the cupboard where only a single toothbrush laid. “Just use mine, and hurry up, the food will be ready soon.” Rody nodded, before realising Vince couldn’t see him “yep!” He could hear the footsteps get quieter until they disappeared. Quickly, Rody cleaned his teeth and tongue, feeling a bit better now, leaving the bathroom and that awful tub to head back to the living room.   

In the triangle table in the middle of the room was made up quite nicely with wine glasses, cloth napkins and an assortment of cutlery, 2 chairs positioned around the table. Vince appeared from the kitchen holding an expensive looking bottle of wine and a shirt, he himself had already put one back on, hiding his slim lean body with surprising amount of muscles- “I’m almost done with the meal, here’s a shirt for you.” He handed Rody the shirt and placed the bottle of wine on the table before disappearing into the kitchen once more. Feeling awkward and exposed he put the shirt on, another of Vince’s, that hugged his body comfortably as he sat down.   

A few minutes passed before Vince returned, two steaming plates in his hands that he carefully placed down before seating himself semi-opposite Rody. Looking down Rody saw the tenderised meat and steamed vegetables, his stomach growled, making him realise just how hungry he was. Picking up his knife and fork he dug into his food, devouring it, ripping into the meat like a savage, barely chewing before swallowing and going for another mouthful. It tasted incredible, easily one of the best meals he’d ever had, when was the last time he ate something so- oh. Oh no. He dropped his cutlery. A loud scrape emitting from the plate as it landed as his brain screeched to a halt.  

Shakily he covered his mouth with his hands, eyes darting to Vincent's’ in a panic as he stared calmly, almost questioningly back. “Is there something wrong with the food?” Nonononono this cannot be happening. Not... again. God is the world spinning faster? “I must admit it’s been a while since I’ve cooked pork so I apologise if the flavour is a bit off, as you know I can’t exactly... taste test my cooking.” ...What? “This- this is pork?” Vince looked genuinely puzzled, “what did you think it was?” Rody let out a sigh of relief. “I thought it might be, you know, her .” Vincent cracked a smile, one that was going to haunt his dreams forever, cutting into a chunk of his own meal, stabbing into the meat and holding it out to him, “you can have a bit of her if you want.”   

Rody couldn’t tear his eyes away from the meat. It looked like meat, just a simple cut, it doesn’t look like her, is it even her anymore? And that last meal did taste- no. Stop. This is wrong. So, so wrong.  Vincent moving the fork away snapped him out of his thoughts, swallowing the saliva in his mouth. “If you won’t eat it I will, don’t want her to go to waste, but you should still eat your food, you’ve barely touched it.” Looking down Rody saw his own plate, then glancing back at Vince suspiciously, who sighed in response. “I promise it is regular pork, I assumed it being anything else might be too much for you.” He muttered something under his breath that Rody didn’t quite catch, but he was too distracted by his own plate too follow up. Slowly he picked up his utensils again, continuing to eat at a much slower, almost cautious pace.   

Before he knew it, the plates were finished and being cleared, a soft kiss being pressed to his forehead making him look up to a flushed Vince, who promptly covered his face with his hand. “Ah- hey!” Rody felt a blush of his own make its way to his face, “You should go get ready for bed.” He didn’t give him any time to respond before Vince had left to get ready, Rody following closely behind. It felt like a routine at this point, which scared him. This whole situation was not normal and shouldn’t be treated as such. Climbing into bed with him felt surreal, what was his life now? As he slipped into sleep all he could think was that he needed to get out, to escape.   

Lips slid against each other like a dance, pressing into one another and pulling away, trying to get as close as possible, Rody gripped Vince’s sides as he went in for another kiss, as though he was starving, breathing each other in. It was heated, passionate, desperate. Bliss.

Chapter 10: RUNRUNRUN

DAY???  

A change in pressure roused him from his sleep, rubbing his face into the sheets and spreading out across the entirety of the bed. Was he alone? And what kind of ream was that!? Blinking his eyes open he forced himself awake, looking up quickly and seeing Vince in his work attire, grabbing his keys. The movement caused him to turn around, noticing Rody trying to get up. “You don’t need to get up, but I need to work, I don’t want people to know you’re staying here so I told them you’re away, you can go back to work when I think you’re ready.”  There wasn’t room for argument. “I’ve made sure to lock everything up, help yourself to any food you’d like and if you need anything” he handed Rody a small buzzer, holding up an identical one in his hand “press this and it will buzz me so I can come back. All he could do was nod dumbly as the buzzer was placed next to him, then he was gone.   

It was weird being in the apartment alone, he hadn’t been alone since, wow, how long had it been now? Just how long had Vincent had him here and how much longer did he intend to keep him here? Vince said he wasn’t going to hurt him, but this felt like he was more of a pet than anything else. Vince kept going on about being in love with him, what does that mean for Rody? The thought unsettled him almost as much as his dream the night prior, not knowing the chefs goal made him feel uneasy. The thought of being alone also made him uncomfortable though, he had gotten so used to his presence, he honestly felt safe with him. It feels like he shouldn’t be okay with that, but he can’t help but like how he feels when he’s around the other man. The silence was not something he thinks he can get used to.  

However, the space gave him the perfect opportunity, though he couldn’t leave through the front door in case he saw him, through a window of some kind was the only option. Recalling his prior knowledge of the apartment the only window available was the bedroom window. Rody considered for a moment getting dressed/washed but decided against it, the sooner he was out the better. He walked towards the windowsill and looked out, it was a steep fall, too steep, he’d need something to cushion the fall, or maybe he could climb down? Frantically he searched the room, looking for anything that might be of use to him. In those cheesy films Manon used to make him watch where when someone needed to escape, they would tie bed sheets together and use them to cascade down. That doesn’t sound so hard. Right? He turned his attention to the silk sheets on the bed; they looked sturdy enough. Tugging them softly they seemed durable, he tried a few more times, getting progressively more aggressive and forceful. Nothing. Good.  

He began tying them together, making sure his knots were as strong as possible, testing them every so often. His parents put him into scouts as a young boy, he always thought it was a waste of time, just a way for them to get rid of him for a while, who would’ve thought that it might actually come in handy one day? Once all the sheets were connected, he laid them flat to see the length. It wasn’t the longest, but he supposed it would do, he didn’t know how much time he had after all, Vincent may come back to check on him at any moment. He tied the sheets to the underside of Vince’s bed and carefully tried to open the window.   

It didn’t budge.  

He tried again.  

Nothing.  

“I’ve made sure to lock everything up-” Oh right.   

Shit.  

Rody didn’t know how to pick any locks, I mean why would he, it’s not like he had ever been kidnapped before- is that even what this is?  Rody felt like he was losing his mind, this was not okay, so why does this feel so normal now? Has Vincent really lodged himself so deep into his skin? Seeping in and becoming a part of him, invading his life.  

He needed to figure out how to get this window open. Quickly. He eyed the lock; it was a simple key lock in between the two big windows, keeping them attached, maybe he could break it open? He tried shaking the left window, pressing on the glass, it gave a tad but not nearly enough to open. He tried harder, arms tensing as he worked the window. Rody needed a new approach, the room was spacious, plenty of space for a running start. Taking strides backwards he repositions himself by the door, taking a running start at the window and turning his body to the side and using his upper body strength against the window.  

The window gave a slight budge before returning to its original position, almost. He repositioned himself, charging again at the window, the force dislodging the window, closer. Rody tried again, taking a deep breath before sprinting at the window, this time colliding with the glass and breaking it open to the street successfully, his body following through and out the window, plummeting to the ground, the air rushing past him but providing no resistance as he landed with a sickening crunch.    

All he remembers is agony and a scream, he wasn’t sure if the scream came from him or someone else, but before he could think about it, he saw him. Vince had rushed out of the restaurant, frantically ordering people to stop crowding and get out of the way so he can help. He felt slim but stable arms cradle him, being pulled into a warm and comforting chest, a soothing voice murmuring into his ear softly before the world swirled, eyes closing as colours faded across his eye lids before it all disappeared to black.  

Vince felt awful. He knew he should’ve been there, not have left him. A sickening feeling had been building in the pit of his stomach; it was honestly difficult focusing on his work. Vince was making silly mistakes throughout the day, not paying enough to his cooks so the meals that were sent out were subpar by his standards. Luckily no one complained and his blunder was left essentially unnoticed. What if people notice he’s there? That would be a scandal, difficult to explain or cover up. Does he have everything he needs? I hope he’s comfortable. Thoughts such as these plagued his mind. Only when a loud thud and a shriek from outside tore him away from his mind.   

Quickly he hurried outside to see Rody crumpled on the floor, his ankle bent at an angle that shouldn’t be possible, the bone visibly broken just beneath the skin. At least it didn’t protrude. Immediately he was at the waiters' side, scooping him up in his arms and commanding the growing crowd so he could get Rody back to his apartment, back to safety. How could this have happened? He needed to keep a closer eye on him, keep him protected, keep him.   

Chapter 11: I Hold Your Hand In Mine

DAY????  

The world looked fuzzy, nothing was in focus and the everything felt too bright. God, Rody felt sick. It was the pain that brought him back to reality. It shot through his foot and ankle, excruciating causing him to gasp as he rolled onto his back. Footsteps approached hurriedly as the door swung open, momentarily distracting him from the agony to see Vince stood in the open doorway, his breathing slightly laboured. His eyes searched Rody for a moment before relaxing minutely.   

“Are you okay?” Rody nodded slowly, wincing at the spark of pain it induced. “Good, what the FUCK were you thinking!?”   

“I wanted to get away- and why are your windows like that!”  

“WHY ARE YOU JUMPING THROUGH THEM?”  

“Um to test the strength of the glass? OBVIOUSLY I DIDN’T MEAN TO!”  

“DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS TO ‘ACCIDENTALLY’ THROW YOURSELF OUT OF A WINDOW?”  

A sob ripped through his throat before he could stop it, choked breaths following. Vincent’s eyes turned more sympathetic, looking at Rody like he was a wounded animal, in a way he sort of was. It took immense power to stutter through his next words: “I’m sorry, I felt trapped, I know you say you won’t hurt me but that doesn’t mean I want to be here!” Hands had wandered into his hair, startling him out of his train of thought. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to trap you, I wanted to help you, feed you, love you. Can you honestly say you don’t feel my love for you?” He thought about it for a moment, fingers carding gently through knots, untangling them with care before soothing over the area. He had felt more loved than he ever had, more cared for, seen ; but did that make this right? All the things Vincent did he says he did out of love, but they were psychotic .   

Rody moved to a sitting position and looked up at the man above, eyes glazed over with tears threatening to spill. Vince sighed, stopping his ministrations and looking at his ankle. He followed his gaze and saw that Vince had cleaned and bandaged the wound. “I’ll go get you some pain killers, I don’t want you to be suffering.” That made Rody pause, as he left the room he was allowed to think freely. Vince had only ever done things with Rody’s best interests at heart, yes, his methods were unorthodox, but Rody had always felt safe with Vincent despite the several reasons he shouldn’t. There had also been a thought in his head for days now, one that had latched onto his brain and would not leave, one that scared him, but made him feel closer to Vincent, Manon really did taste delicious . He did that for him, and Rody enjoyed it...  

The chef was back shortly, pills in one hand and a glass of water in the other; he handed them to Rody who eagerly gulped them down. “Your bandages won’t serve as a cast very well so you will need to ensure you don’t put any weight on your foot until it is completely healed.” He spoke clinically, but Rody felt touched, after all, it’s not like this was Vince’s fault, Rody was the one who practically jumped out of the window, yet he was attentively looking after him. He whispered a small thanks, watching a half smile form on Vince’s lips before he turned away.  

“What do you want for lunch? The bistro is shut for a few days due to the disturbance so I can stay with you whilst you heal.”   

He felt comforted. And hungry. So, so hungry. His stomach growled as if to emphasise the point. Saliva was pooling in his mouth at the thought, but he had to resist, he knew it would be wrong... Although, he had already done it before, so was it morally wrong to do it again? Yes. No? Surely. But what if- a slight flick against his forehead distracted him, causing him to look up.   

“You were getting stuck in your own head, what were you thinking?” Vince's eyes searched his before widening slightly. “Did you want me to make you something... special again?” Everything was moving so fast but also too slowly. He knew the right answer, the obvious answer, but Vincent made it sound so good that all he could do was nod slightly, ashamed by the excitement curling in his stomach.   

By the time Vincent had left guilt had already begun to sink into Rody’s bones, his muscles involuntarily contracting, like he wasn’t in control anymore. Was he ever? His breathing came in short gasps, and his heart was beating furiously. Placing a hand on his chest and holding onto the sheets to ground himself he calmed his breathing, Vince would look after him, Vince always looked after him. He spared a glance at his bandaged ankle; the chef was even looking after him when Rody tried to run away. He knew this was all wrong, but he needed him, needed his care, Rody was tired of being alone.   

Vince returned to see he still hadn’t gotten out of bed, “you need to wash up before food, do you need assistance?” Rody flushed at the thought, he had already been washed by the other man before, but this felt more... Intimate. Clearing his throat he shook his head, “no I should be alright, thank you.” It was a painful endeavour getting out of bed, Vince was quickly by his side in case he fell, carefully walking him to the bathroom where that insulting tub still sat. He really needed to speak to him about his decor choices if Rody was going to be moving in. Was that where this was going? Had it already happened?   

“Well then, I’ll get started on preparing the meal, you can call if you need anything.” He left promptly, leaving Rody to get clean and presentable. He couldn’t lie about how excited he was for this meal, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t get the taste of... her out of his system, and he wanted, craved more. He could feel the change, that things would be different from now on, and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to care.  

Once he was finished washing himself and putting on new clothes that Vince had left on the side for him, he ventured to the living room, a slight limp accompanying him. The chef was already there when Rody arrived, he was setting the table. “The food is ready, I’ll bring it out in a minute, I think you’ll like this.” Rody sat down in the same seat as before with the help from Vince, eager to try his new creation as the other man served the dishes. Huh, the chef became the server. Ironic.  

“I made ‘porchetta’, it’s an Italian dish using roast ‘ pork’ .”   

It smelled incredible and looked even more so. Tentatively he grabbed his cutlery, stabbing at the meat and cutting through it to tear it away before eating it. Oh. My. God . It tasted even better than he remembered, he couldn’t stop himself as he ripped his way through the meat, devouring it. Looking across the table as he shovelled in another mouthful, he saw Vince sat there picking at his food, not eating any.   

“Hey, how come you aren’t eating any?”   

“As you know I can’t taste things, I prefer to eat in a specific way, but I've been told it can be... disturbing.”  

“But you ate fine before?”  

“I wanted you to trust me, and I figured sharing a meal would be a good start, after all food is how we know each other.” He wasn’t wrong, but still, Rody felt guilty that he was stopping Vince from eating properly.   

“I’m fine with you eating the way you normally do, I won’t judge you.” The chef gave a look of scepticism. “You spoke about building trust, so trust me.” Vince grew warm, offering a warm smile before taking his plate back to the kitchen. Continuing his meal Rody contemplated, this all felt very, domestic. He had never had a relationship be serious enough to move in, but this felt so natural. Like he was supposed to be here. Although it wasn’t quite a relationship. Then again Vince had told him he was in love with him, and he cared for him like a lover would. How did Rody feel about Vince though? Before he could overthink anymore the man in question came back holding a disgusting looking drink, it almost put Rody off his meal. Almost.  

“Whatcha got there?”   

“A smoothie”  

“Ok and why does it look like... that? ” It looked like a murky brown, similar to drinking mud, and the texture seemed thick too, thicker than a smoothie.  

“Drinking a smoothie of blended food and vitamins is easier than eating, I can get it over with faster. People have judged this though, especially considering I am a renowned chef, to be seen drinking this is, rather unsightly.”  

Rody felt awful, Vince had to cope with a horrible disability, and when he finally found a way to deal with it, he was ridiculed. Without really thinking about it Rody placed his hand on top of Vince’s, his thumb stroking random shapes and patterns into his skin. The chef let him, using his other hand to drink his shake. Rody continued to eat with his other hand, their now intertwined fingers never moving until everything had been consumed, only letting go when Vince removed himself from the table with their dishes to clean.  

“Your bandages will need changing and I can give you some more pain medication and rubbing ointment.” Rody smiled, “thanks.” Carefully he unwound his bandages whilst the other man cleaned, the swelling still hasn’t gone down and the bruise looked nasty as ever. He had to be careful to stay off it for a while, don’t want to make it any worse.   

The chef finished up quickly and came over to tend to Rody with ointment and medication. He gave him the pills to take as he spread the greasy liquid over his hands before placing them on his ankle. Rody winced in pain and Vince muttered a small apology as he began to work his fingers into the skin gently, making sure to be extra tender to darker areas. The touch was soft, and it seemed to linger even when he moved onto other parts meticulously. It was over before Rody realised, his ankle being carefully bound once more in a new bandage.   

“There, all done, it’s still quite early in the day, is there anything you wanted to do? That doesn’t require your feet of course, we don’t want you making it worse.” Rody thought for a moment, Vince really seemed to be trying to care for him, and honestly it was endearing. “Do you have any films?” Vince helped Rody to the sofa, sitting him down gently before going to his television stand and picking out a box from underneath, handing it to Rody. “I’m not sure what is in there, I like the classics, but my friends prefer, other materials, so there is a mix in there, choose whatever you’d like.” He started to head out of the room before Rody called out to him, stopping him in his tracks. “Is there anything else you wanted?” Rody shifted slightly, awkwardly. “No, I just... Aren’t you going to watch with me?” There was hope in his eyes. “Oh, I didn’t think you’d- of course, I'd love to.” He wore a sweet smile as he walked back to the sofa, sitting down close but not overbearingly, picking up a blanket from the top of the sofa to lay over them.   

Rody picked out a film and placed the box down to the side, beaming as he handed it to Vince. Frankenstein. A classic, just what Vince likes, with a splash of horror, just like what Rody likes. He quickly got up to start the film before curling back up under the blanket. “I’m surprised you didn’t choose a cheesy rom-com; I thought they would be more your style?” Rody flushed at that. “I prefer horror, I watched lots of rom coms for Manon, but I never actually liked them.” Vince hummed, “well you can watch whatever you’d like here.”  

The film began to pick up pace and they stopped talking, both watching intently, it was nice. Manon always used to talk through films, animatedly talking about them and Rody put up with it, but this was nicer, just existing together, fully appreciating the art. They had all the time in the world to talk after. Smiling he shuffled closer to Vince, who immediately put his arm up over the sofa, giving Rody room to snuggle into his side, the other man's hand moving down to wrap around his shoulders. They didn’t speak about it, just quietly cuddled, Rody’s head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and feeling the comforting movement of his breathing as it lulled him into a quiet slumber.   

Glossed over eyes bore into his, a clammy discoloured hand reaching out to him, clawing at his feet as the body contorted on the icy floor, twisting, bones turning and crunching uncomfortably. There was so much blood, spilling out of the open wound in her torso that was dragging onto the floor, organs poking out. Her other arm was nowhere to be seen, the gash bleeding steadily and adding to the mess on the floor. Her mouth curled, taking considerable force to open as her lips were pried apart. She spoke fast, her mouth a blur, the words falling on deaf ears, unheard.  

Chapter 12: An Unhealthy Obsession

Notes:

Sorry if this chapter isn't as good as the others, I really hoped the writers curse wouldn't get me but my dad died when I was writing this chapter.

DAY ?????  

Rody woke with a start, sitting up immediately, his hand on his chest. He felt as though he couldn’t breathe, the air in his lungs had left, leaving a cold sting as he gasped for oxygen, his vision spotty, sweat dripping from his body. Vincent was by his side in seconds, eyes blinking furiously to get rid of the sleep still present, hands comfortingly on his shoulders. “What’s wrong? What happened?”   

“I saw her. I saw her. ”  

“Her?”  

“Manon.”  

Vincent paused, shifting away from Rody slightly. “You dreamt about her?” Rody finally felt like he could breathe. A dream, that was all that was, he was safe with Vince. “I guess I did, I’m glad it’s over now.” He turned to see Vincent had moved to the other side of the bed, an unreadable expression on his face. “Uh Vince?” Rody tried to reach out, he didn’t take his hand. “What are you glad is over?” he was confused by this. “What?” Vincent spoke slowly and clearly. “What are you glad is over? The dream of her or your relationship with her?” Rody felt put on the spot, he hadn’t expected that. He meant the dream, was he happy the relationship was over? It wasn’t the best by any means, but the way it ended- and what he did to her...   

The silence was deafening, making Vincent even more on edge. He had done everything for Rody, and yet he still clings to her. Is he not good enough? He killed her for him, he gave him love , he's helping him and Rody still only wants her . He felt like he was spiralling, what was he supposed to do, how much further did he need to go for Rody to just accept him and his love, to care for him the same way Vincent cares for him.   

Rody didn’t know what to do, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, the things he’s done are unforgivable, he could never go back to his normal life, he needed Vince, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was over Manon, but he’s also aware of how bad their relationship was and that he gave so much more than he got in return. He knew what he had to say. “Both.” That single word shattered his reality, he spared a glance as Vince, he seemed surprised.   

“You are happy she’s gone?”  

“Yes.”  

“For good?”  

Rody had to swallow the lump in his throat at the thought; she was gone for good because of him. “Yes.”    

Vincent began praising him. “I’m glad you see things the way I do, we can be so much happier without h-”   

“I’m happy she’s gone but I hate what we did. I still don’t understand why you did it. Why did you do it?”  

The lump was back, choking him, blocking his airwaves to obstruct his breathing as he waited for Vince to respond. And waited. And waited. He just stared blankly at him, menacingly. Abruptly he got up and left the room, not a single word leaving his lips, abandoning Rody in the bedroom. He shuddered an exhale, alone to drown in his thoughts, his guilt strangling him like a boa constrictor, squeezing tighter and tighter. He didn’t realise tears had slipped out of his eyes until he tasted the salt on his mouth, tumbling into crying pathetically.  

Vincent was pacing in the living room, what was he supposed to do? He can’t take back what they did, what he did, and he doesn’t want to. If only Rody understood why he is the way he is, if he could just explain- no, he never told anyone that story, how would he even- but Rody has stuck with him even through this, yes they had a hiccup when he fell through the window but they talked about that. Maybe it was time for him to finally be vulnerable, after all they had spoken about trust and the intimacy behind it, then Rody might be able to give all of himself to Vincent in return.   

Vincent returned to the bedroom calmly, momentarily startles by the red nosed puffy eyed Rody laying in front of him. Sighing gently, he sat down close enough Rody could reach out for him but made no move to do so himself. “I did it for you. That’s what I said before, and it’s the truth, but I realise I owe you more of an explanation.” Rody was stunned, he expected Vincent to have secrets, but he never expected him to actually reveal them. Then again, he knows Vince cares for him deeply, would do anything for him, this shouldn’t be so surprising.   

Vince took a few deep breaths. “My family had an interesting way of showing love for one another. My parents always told us of how romantic their courtship was before their relationship, the extents they would go to for one another. As a child I saw it how they did, romantic, devoted, unfortunately society did not feel the same. I never quite understood how to manage my attraction towards someone, and my disinterest in women made that task especially hard as society was already unaccepting of me. Because of this I never got to explore a regular courtship.”  

Rody listened intently, Vince was opening up about his family, something he has never done, he felt closer to him, closer to the truth. “How wasn’t it a regular courtship?” He knew it was a dangerous question, but it had to be asked. “Well, if I felt interested in someone, I would court them in the same manner as my parents.”  

It was a cool summers night, and the object of her attraction was walking at a steady pace in front. Her mind was streaming with ideas of their wedding day, when he would finally sign the legally binding papers that would make him hers forever, her property, her love. She knew she was the only one for him, she knew everything about him, from the restaurants he frequents to how he washes his clothing. She had been following him home for weeks now, peering through the windows of his house to see what he was up to, always entertained by his mundane activities. She adored everything about him, unfortunately he had to drive to work, cutting her expeditions short, so she did what any normal person would do and laid spikes along a road on his route to work so his car tires would puncture, and he would have to return to his home, to her. You see she had placed walkie-talkies around his house to listen fully to his day. Polaroids were even kept in a scrapbook of tall their ‘adventures’ with the dates scribbled in red ink.  

What she didn’t know was he had grown an obsession of his own. When life would occupy her and keep her away from him, he would take matters into his own hands so their ‘adventures’ could continue, walking closely behind her when she would be running errands, too busy to notice him. Her eyes had always driven him crazy, he craved to look into them, to get lost, he often found himself following her without even realising it, arriving at her home sooner than he ever expected. Watching her sleep so peacefully in the sanctuary of her own room was one of his favourite past times, he couldn’t help but imagine that were him, sleeping next to her, getting to wake next to that pretty face every day. He had to be inconspicuous so would only visit on certain nights, but when he did visit he would be prepared, bringing food to keep him sustained and coffee so he wouldn’t sleep, meaning he could watch her all night long. It was fortunate she had a tree in her back garden he could climb so he was less likely to be caught. He had many keep sakes form their time together, anything she happened to leave behind when out, and even sometimes he would rummage through her bins to see if there was anything salvageable. He could imagine it now: how romantic it would be on their wedding day when he would show her all the gifts he had collected from their ‘dates’.  

What he hadn’t prepared for was her innovative mind, he thought he was one step ahead, already aware of her affection towards him, of course he knew, however she had plans of her own. He couldn’t prepare for the car crash. Hers had perfectly collided with his, hard enough for him to fall unconscious, soft enough there was no lasting damage. When he awoke all he could focus on was the throbbing pain in his head, feeling like it was splitting open. Attempting to shuffle slightly he noticed he couldn’t move; he had been bound to a chair using rope, the knots tied securely. He had begun to panic before he saw her descend the stairs, looking elegant as ever, he couldn’t stop the dopey smile spreading across his face, lovesick.   

She hadn’t been aware he knew her, that he loved her, but when she was retrieving his body from the wreckage she found his keep sakes, small things like her shaving razors and clothes she had thrown away. It was flattering really, and exhilarating, so when he woke up, smiling at her she couldn’t help but lean in to give him a sweet kiss, just a soft press of their lips. It was better than either of them could have imagined. Their wedding was scheduled shortly after.   

“Okay pause.”  

Vincent stopped speaking, letting Rody process. It was a lot for him to hear at once, and this was only his parents’ love story, he wasn’t sure how Rody would react to the rest, he was beginning to get nervous.  

Rody was stunned. He wasn’t sure how to react. “Your parents stalked each other?”   

“Yes.”  

“Your mum hit your dad with her car and kidnapped him?”  

“Yes.”  

“AND THEY GOT MARRIED?”  

“Well as you correctly mentioned previously, they stalked each other, both were obsessed, he wasn’t mad she did that, he was mainly surprised and impressed, if anything he fell harder after that. He showed her his darkest side, and she accepted him, showing him hers in return. They had keep-sakes, they loved each other, they were willing to do anything for one another, break any rule.”   

“And you think that’s okay?”  

“Isn’t that what you did for Manon? You gave her everything, every piece of you, that’s what my parents also did, what I do. I’ve given you everything Rody, there is no line I wouldn’t cross for you.”  

It was romantic.   

It was insane.   

Maybe Rody was just as bad as Vincent. No. He didn’t kill anyone, he just... ate someone. And liked it. Wanted more of it. Oh god what had Vincent done to him? Or was this always him, just dormant until recently. Vincent spoke about sharing the deepest dark's of yourself is the ultimate display of intimacy, was that what this was? Sharing their evils and accepting each other? Accepting themselves? Maybe they really were made for each other, soulmates if you will.  

Rody slid across the bed towards Vince, only inches apart, “I have crossed a line for you, there’s no turning back, for either of us.” The other man nodded, he knew.   

“I have never done what I’ve done for you before, but there were a few... signs, if you will.  It was never really prominent until after my accident. I was a regular child I like to think, I had a few quirks, for instance I used to eat worms, disgusting I know, but I was a child. I was always interested in food and eating, and of course in mortality, the ethics of killing and eating. I wanted to understand why it was okay to kill and eat animals, but only certain animals, it never made sense. I became curious, and in a stupid attempt to understand how it could be so different I kidnapped the neighbour's puppy.”   

Rody was nervous for how this story would go, but he listened non-judgmentally, nonetheless. After all, Vince was bearing his soul to him.  

“I skinned it and set it on fire. I was 8, I wasn’t aware of why this was wrong, my parents stole from each other so why could I not do the same? And I hadn’t yet been briefed on culinary practices. It burnt our house down, with me in it. I suffered severe burns, luckily none that scarred but the heat managed to singe off my taste buds, hence why I have no sense of taste.”  

The other man reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.  

“The smoke I inhaled was enough for me to pass out, they were worried I might have permanently damaged my brain, thankfully they saw no obvious ailments, and the neighbours assumed the puppy got caught in the fire whilst it was in the garden. But my questions were never answered. My curiosity grew to obsession, but I never acted on it, I never felt the need to.   

Until you.   

You made me want to push the boundaries, I wanted to cook with love and so I did, I cooked who you loved, and in doing so gave you love from my obsession with cooking and certain ingredients.”  

Rody smiled at him, “and it was delicious.”  

Vincent smiled, they were finally on the same page, tomorrow would be a good day, a very good day. But for now, “what did you want to do for the day? It’s only the early afternoon; I could make you a special meal while you decide?” Rody smiled and nodded, that sounded nice. “Let's get you washed up first.”  

Vince helped Rody up and brought him to the bathroom, quickly and efficiently changing his bandages, being gentle with him as always. Once he was finished, he left Rody alone with that infernal bathtub to go prepare the meal. The waiter washed quickly, picking clothes from one of the cabinets to dress himself in. He was electrified by the thought of another of Vincent’s meals. It felt freeing, to finally allow this dark part of him be free, the sick delight he takes into sinking his teeth into her cooked flesh.   

He noticed a cane by the vulgar bathtub, picking it up and using it to help him get to the living room where a simple but delectable feast lay. “Ah I see you found the cane I got you; I wanted to make it easier for you to get around the apartment.” His kindness warmed Rody’s heart as he took a seat. “What’s on the menu today chef?”   

“The cut I used is similar to pork tenderloins with an apple slaw and creamy mashed potato on the side.” It sounded luscious, he couldn’t wait to dig in, his mouth already watering at the meal. Vince sat down opposite him, gesturing for him to start eating; he dug in without any more hesitance. It was better than he imagined. He didn’t know she could be used so many ways, taste so different each time but Vincent continued to surprise him. He devoured his meal as Vince drank his, it wasn’t odd seeing it this time, he felt bad the other felt he needed to hide it.   

“So have you thought anymore about what you would like to do today?”   

Rody had thought about it, he really missed being outside, the fresh breeze, the parks. “I was thinking maybe we could go on a walk to a nearby park? I won’t be able to go far because of my ankle, and I feel a bit stir crazy just sitting here all day.” Vincent listened considering, before smiling, “a day in the park sounds nice, could bring a bottle of wine and a book to read.” Rody was beaming, he hadn’t expected Vince to agree so easily “yeah!” Vince cleared the table and packed an appropriate basket for their trip out.   

Once they were ready the headed out of the apartment, through the restaurant and onto the street. It was nice and sunny, warm but not too hot with a slight breeze to keep them cool. Vince had one arm for the basket and one arm around Rody to help him walk, who used the cane in his free hand for extra support. Slowly they made their way to the park, choosing a nice spot to sit at, close to a tree so they can be shaded and far enough away from others that they won’t be interrupted.   

Vince laid a blanket down for them from the basket and set out a bottle of wine, two glasses and some books for them to read through. It felt quite romantic, they sipped the wine and laughed at funny parts in their books, telling each other the plots, both chose horror books. It was almost intimate, Rody wanted to reach his hand out and hold the one Vince was leaning on, but he shouldn’t they were in public and who knew how others would react.   

The thought spoiled the mood for the afternoon, this felt natural to him, it felt right, why did people insist on calling it sinful? Noticing his new reservedness Vince gently nudged Rody with his book. “Are you okay?” The waiter shrugged “I wanted to be closer to you, but there are other people around” he gestured to the few stragglers in the park going about their days.  

Vince looked at the wine before re-filling Rody’s glass, “we could pretend you’re drunk and need to lean on me if that would make you more comfortable? I like that you want to be close to me.” The waiter felt heat rising to his cheeks, but he took the glass nonetheless, gulping down its contents before sighing, letting his weight fall to the side, resting his head on Vince’s shoulder, a dopey smile marking his face.   

It was dark before they expected, and they began to pack up the basket, before either got up Rody checked his surroundings before giving Vince a chaste kiss on his cheek, immediately turning his red face away from the other man and picking up his cane. Vince smiled and grabbed the rest of their belongings, resuming his position by Rody’s side and helping him into the apartment.   

When they settled into bed that night Rody cuddled up to the other man, pleased when his arm wrapped around him. He felt protected, safe. Turning to face him Vince gave a quizzical look, before Rody could psyche himself out of it he reached up to kiss Vince, who eagerly responded. It wasn’t the most exciting of kisses, just a soft press, but it meant the world too them. Rody laid his head on Vince’s chest as hands threaded through his hair and he fell into a peaceful, nightmare free sleep.   

Notes:

I'm so sorry about the dog, but I wanted to dive more into Vincent's character. Also I promise he does redeem himself.

Chapter 13: The Dismemberment Song

Notes:

Sorry if this one isn't that great either, I was on holiday and on the way back the car set fire. This curse is real bro.

DAY ??????  

Rody woke up to strong arms surrounding him, keeping him close. He smiled snuggling more into the warmth of the other man. “Morning Rody” He hummed in response, not making a move to get up. “Come on we have to get up now.” The other man moaned, pressing further into his chest. “Rody, if you don’t get up, I will get you up myself.” When the other man still made no movement, Vince slid his hands from being splayed across Rody’s back to resting on his sides, before jabbing them. Rody squeaked out a laugh as he jolted upright.   

“That was mean!” He pouted at Vince trying to make him feel guilty.  

“You like me mean.” The smirk was evident, even if he wasn't looking at him.  

Rody huffed, mumbling about his perfect rest being ruined, getting out of bed and reaching for his cane, Vince was there by his side in an instant, helping him to the bathroom to start their day. It was a routine by now, comfortable and domestic. He couldn’t imagine his life any differently now. To think not too long ago he was so focused on getting his girlfriend back, when the person he needed was right by his side all along.   

They finished getting ready in the bathroom, Vince pressed a quick peck to his cheek and helped him to the living room. “So, what will we be eating today?” He was practically beaming, Rody was done containing his excitement, there was no point in pretending he didn’t crave more. “I have something special planned for today; I think you’ll like it.”   

It sounded ominous, but if it was anything like Vince’s other surprises Rody knew he had much to look forward to. “Did you want to see now?” The other man nodded impatiently. Vince helped him up and took him down the hallway to his bedroom, before stopping outside the door opposite. Rody noticed the lock on the door and asked Vince about it. “The lock will make sense shortly, there’s a reason you haven’t been in this room yet, I wanted you to be ready for your surprise.”  

Rody pondered what that meant and how he was ‘ready’, but he didn’t have to wait long as Vincent unlocked the door and slowly opened it, the hinges creaking loudly, it was unsettling to say the least. It sort of reminded Rody of the freezer, and as the light from the hallway shone through the open doorway and illuminated the once dark room, he realised it was exactly like that time in the freezer...  

In the middle of the room, tied to a chair using rope that snaked over his wrists, elbows, chest and torso, thighs and shins; blindfolded and gagged with some cloth, ear plugs in to strip away his last sense was Richard of all people. Rody couldn’t believe what he was seeing. What was he even doing here? Vincent calmly walked in and turned on a small lamp that gave off just enough light for the change to not be obvious to the captive. “Do you like your gift?”   

Rody was at a loss for words, there was only one question he could think to ask: “why?” Vincent smiled, not seemingly annoyed by his reaction but rather pleased. “I did not appreciate the way he spoke to you at the party, there seemed to be some history there and well, I wanted you to air out your grievances” he stepped in close, close enough that he could feel Vincent’s breaths on his neck and ear, making him shiver as he spoke his next words “however you see fit.”   

It felt seductive, the way the chef tempted Rody with the idea of violence against Richard, but he was weary. “You don’t even know what he did, so why go to the trouble of kidnapping him.” Rody couldn’t say he was upset with Vincent, admittedly he’d dreamed of a similar scenario to this for years, but he never thought he would get a chance to execute it. “I assure you it was no trouble, he was already at the party, so I simply knocked him out after everyone left and locked him in here.”   

Vincent was holding Rody’s waist loosely, giving him the chance to move away. He didn’t. He stood there, dumbfounded by this new development, he had been here since the party? It was a wonder he never noticed. “If you want to let him go, that’s fine too.” That shocked him, was he really allowed to do that? “This is for you , if you want him to leave and never come back, done, but if you want to make him suffer the way he made you suffer, if you want to get rid of him, well then it’s a good thing I brought him here I suppose.”  

A good person would let him go. Hell, just an average person would let him go, threaten him to stay away and be done with it. But as Rody was beginning to learn, he was not average, and he certainly wasn’t ‘good’. “Have you tortured him already?” He was staring blatantly at the bindings and gag, clearly deducing what he believed Vincent did to the other man. “I’ve done nothing but tie him up, the gag was for if people were over, and I didn’t want him to spoil your surprise, the blindfold and ear plugs are to ensure he has no idea where he is or how long it’s been either, to disorient him, makes the whole ordeal much simpler.”   

A sick twist of pleasure sunk deep into Rody’s stomach, Richard was all his . He turned his head towards Vincent, but his eyes stayed trained on his victim. “What can I do to him.” Vincent huffed a laugh, pressing closer to him, “this is your gift remember? I already said before, you can deal with him however you see fit , I meant that, whatever you want to do you can, you are in control Rody.” The satisfaction in hearing those words was unmatched, he was in control.   

He leant into Vincent’s touch, his warmth surrounding him, comforting him as he chose his next words carefully. “Can you get me some supplies; there’s a few things I want to do.” The chef responded with a kiss to the temple, promising Rody he can have whatever he wanted. He knew that wasn’t exclusive to this, Vincent would give Rody the world and more, and Rody would take it.   

Vincent left the room and ventured down the hallway, supposedly getting some equipment; in all honesty Rody wasn’t sure what he was going to do, he would just use whatever Vincent gives him, he trusted him to know just how to torture a person. Because that was exactly what he wanted to do, he wasn’t going to let him go free, that was out of the question, and death would be merciful after the misery he inflicted upon his life. No, he needed to be tortured, his mind ripped from his body, losing himself until all he knew was pain and sorrow. He wanted him to beg for it to end.   

Vincent returned shortly, a tray with a cloth splayed neatly on top of it, as though he was about to present a new and tantalising dish. Huh, now that gave Rody an idea. Stripping away the cloth he was faced with several kitchen knives and utensils of varying sizes and sharpness, alongside a container with an odd substance inside. “Um Vincent? What’s this?”  

The other man leant over his shoulder to see what Rody was referring to. “Oh that, boiling oil, I’d suggest using that first, so it doesn’t get a chance to cool.” All he could do was nod as he further inspected the oil before placing it back down, opting to move over to Richard and undo his blindfold and take the ear plugs out; Vincent made no comment, preferring to silently watch rather than get in the way. He was excited to see the real Rody, unfiltered and unhinged, sick with insanity and oh so sweet to Vincent.   

The moment he made contact with Richard the man attempted to jerk away, knocking the back of his head against the chair and whining into his gag. His eyes were bulging the moment he could see, desperate for any kind of stimulus after the never-ending darkness he was encased in. Rody could see the recognition in his face when he finally looked at himself and Vincent, confusion etching its way onto his features in replacement of fear.  

Rody didn’t like that.  

He needed to be afraid.  

He needed to dread what Rody would do, and Rody would do far worse things to him than he could ever have imagined.  

Picking up the scalding oil he walked over carefully, he didn’t want to risk spilling any. He placed the container down and untied just his right-hand wrist, leaving his elbow still tied down. Taking the oil in one hand and Richard in the other he looked into his eyes; he seemed nervous but not quite scared. Not good enough. Rody plunged his hand into the oil, gripping tightly so he couldn’t move. Screams of agony ripped through Richard’s throat, muffled by the still present gag as he attempted to squirm away, his bindings restricting his every move, forcing him to take it.  

Rody felt manic, he couldn’t wait to make Richard pay tenfold. He pulled the cloth out of his mouth “I want to hear you; I want to listen to you beg me to stop.” All Richard could do was breath shakily, hiccuping occasionally as tears streamed down his face, he didn’t beg, but he finally looked afraid. Small victories he supposed. He removed his hand from the oil to inspect it. It looked aggressively red with splotches of blisters littering his entire hand from his wrist to his fingertips. It looked painful, Rody smiled, is this how Vincent felt?  

The man in question adorned a similar expression, gazing at Rody with pride and something else he was too nervous to name. True to his word he was not getting involved, allowing Rody to enact his punishment the way he wanted to. Vincent was doing all this for him without even understanding why, he really loved him didn’t he? Rody turned to him, looking fondly, they really were perfect for each other, his chest felt heavy, heart full.   

Abruptly he stood up, putting the oil back in its original space and eyeing the other tools. A skinning knife caught his attention, the curved blade calling to him, he had only seen Vincent use it once, so it took a moment to recognise what it was. Carefully he picked it up, turning his attention back to Richard, whose eyes began spilling fresh tears as his lip quivered, shaking his head, still silent.   

“Do you want to tell Vincent how we know each other?” He drew the knife closer to his face, the curve just under his left eye. He could barely stutter his next words, his voice hoarse from crying and not speaking for several days. “Does he not already know? Isn’t that why he did this?” Rody had never felt so proud as he spoke his next words “he didn’t need to know, he saw how you treated me and he intervened, he didn’t need the full story to know that I wanted to hurt you, and he helped me.”   

Rody dug the blade into his skin slightly, a thin cut forming as blood reached the surface, slowly dripping down his face. “Tell. Him.” Richard began heaving, the tears flowing freely. “I used to-” he swallowed, choosing his next words carefully. “I would tease you about your lack of skill in college” Rody slide the knife down to the middle of his cheek. Richard froze, not daring to move or speak as he panted out of his mouth to steady his breathing, a futile attempt to appease the man above him.   

“Keep talking.”  

The pain had begun to set in, stinging and burning at the same time, his mind not able to focus on anything else, much less Rody.   

That wouldn’t do.  

Putting the knife down momentarily he looked down at Richards hands. The hand that was in oil looked possibly numb from all the pain previously, turning to the other he uncurled his fist to spread out his fingers, taking his index into his hand. “If I ask you a question-” Rody snapped his hand to the side, the bone beneath crunching as it moved out of place, the finger bent uncomfortably, Richard's scream was echoing in his ears “you answer it. Understand?”   

The man continued to cry, shaking aggressively but still not responding to his question. Rody sighed and moved onto his middle finger, repeating the action, this time breaking it in the opposite direction so they continuously brushed each other, prolonging the suffering. This time he was quick to answer, shouting desperately. “YES, YES I UNDERSTAND!”   

Rody smiled and let go of his hand, picking the knife back up and using it to rip his sleeve open and placing the blade at the top of his shoulder. “Finish the story.” Richard let out a quiet whimper but was quick to comply. “I would tell you that you were worthless and never cut out for this kind of job, that you were too clumsy and unfocused and you only got into college in the first place because your parents paid the school since you were too much of an embarrassment to them and all they wanted was to get rid of you!”   

It was pathetic, the way he was sobbing as he spoke, taking shaky breaths in-between speaking but interrupted by his own chokes. It was gratifying, satisfying deep in his core in a way he never expected. The man who tormented him for years, the embodiment of his suffering, was practically grovelling at his feet, and Rody could only smile as he dug the knife into his shoulder, not too deep, but enough for him to wail.  

“I TOLD YOU WHAT YOU WANTED!” His crying was loud and disgusting, snotty and wet, Rody had never felt so exhilarated in his life. “I never said that I wouldn’t hurt you.”  

“I’M SORRY! OKAY? IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR” More tears were flowing freely, he assumed Richard wouldn’t be able to cry anymore yet here he was, still blabbering like a baby. Honestly, how could he ever say that he was the disappointment. “An apology is nice, but after everything you put me through do you think you deserve to be let go. If the roles were switched, would you honestly let me go out of the kindness of your heart?”   

Human emotions are a funny thing. When you’ve been pushed to the point of breaking there’s no turning back, no predictions to the things you will do, the lines you will cross. Bargaining is a common defence mechanism, a way to appease someone and change their mind; but when that doesn’t work...   

Rody could see the shift in Richard’s eyes, his broken cries morphing into maniacal laughter. “You really are sick. I mean, really? Kidnapping and torturing me? I was right to hurt you.” He shifted in his seat minutely, wincing at the knife still lodges securely inside of him jostling slightly, looking Rody in the eyes. “You were always a disappointment, your parents couldn’t wait to get rid of you and now I finally understand why, you’re twisted and perverse, do you get off on this shit? I’ll let you in on a secret, the reason people never spoke to you, why you had no friends, it wasn’t because they didn’t want to get bullied with you, it was you . They couldn’t stand to be near you. That’s the real torture here, being stuck with a pitiful excuse for a human being, a joke, a mistake-” his eyes landed on Vince, cold and hardened. “A fucking fa-”   

The words were ripped from his mouth.   

Rody lunged his hand forward and hooked some of his fingers behind Richard's teeth and pressed them to the roof of his mouth whilst his other hand locked onto his jaw, most of his fingers inside is mouth and pushed his hands apart. The guttural scream that left Richard was almost loud enough to drown out the sound oof the pop as his jaw dislocated from being pried open to far. It was now drooping loosely, unable to close. Richard was still attempting to move it, the unspoken word still ringing in Rody’s head as he moves his hands, so his left is holding Richard's head in place, tipped back slightly, and the other was in his mouth. Lifting up onto his tiptoes he forced his right hand back down harshly as he pressed his body weight down, his adrenaline fuelled rage helping him force his jaw down even more. The corners of his lips began splitting, the skin of his cheeks being ripped apart in jagged lines that connect from his mouth down to the hinge of his jaw. The blood was everywhere, dripping down as the lower half of his face hang down to his neck, his tongue lolling out, useless now as he struggled to continue screaming, his vocal cords finally shredded and ruptured.  

It was peaceful, quiet, Richard was finally blessedly silent. Getting a chance to breathe Rody took a step back to admire his work. Vince carefully took a few steps forward, reaching his hand out to lightly grip Rody’s right shoulder, sliding his hand down his arm as he got closer. “Would you like to take a break?” He spoke softly, not a hint of judgement in his voice, purely looking out for his wellbeing, it made his heart feel full. “I’m not done just yet, he might bleed out if we leave him like that, and I want him to be alive for how I plan to kill him.”   

Vince had never been more in love. They were a perfect match made in heaven. Or hell, he supposes.  

He wrapped his arms around Rody’s waist, holding him close. The other man leant into his touch, placing his hands over Vince’s and squeezing slightly. “Thank you for this.” Vince responded by lifting one of Rody’s hands to his mouth, pressing soft tender kisses along his knuckles. They stayed like that for a moment more, revelling in the embrace before Vince slowly unwrapped himself to let him go, letting Rody move back to the table of instruments, picking out the largest carving knife. Stalking towards Richard he got to see the sheer terror in his eyes, though they were beginning to droop, probably due to the excessive pain he's endured and blood loss. Oh well, better make this quick, he needs to experience it fully.   

Lifting the knife up he pressed it to the other man's chest, slowly digging it into the flesh until about half of the blade was submerged. Rody repositioned his hand the way he had seen Vincent do it once for a new shipment of meat and wrenched it down, splitting his chest, a line of red following in its wake down to his stomach. Richard’s eyes were glossy, still a hint of life behind them but the flame was flickering. He repeated the action, making sure to sever the meat. Next was the deep cut under his pecs, the blade biting into his skin and sawing from flesh to muscle.  

Tossing the bloodied knife back onto the tray Rody faced Richard making sure his eyes weren’t dead just yet. Reaching forwards, he began digging his hands into the fresh wounds and dragging the tissue out until he could see his chest cavity, gaping open for him. Forcing his fingers into the hole searching for a second before wrapping them around what he had been looking for.   

Pulling his hand back roughly Richard’s heart dislodged, the muscles weakly contracting in his hand as he presented it to him. “Wow, trying to call Vince a slur yet here you are with your heart in the hands of another man.” He leant in close, watching the light in his eyes fade as he died, whispering his final words to him: “ you are pathetic .” He spat onto his face, but Richard was gone before the impact. It didn’t matter; the message was delivered.  

Breathing deeply in through his nose and out through his mouth he turned to Vince, a bright smile plastered on his face. Stretching out his hand with the now still heart he bestowed it to Vince. “Do you think you could make this into a dish for tomorrow? I know it isn’t exactly my heart, but it does belong to you.” Handing the organ over Vince shuffled closer, gently taking it as Rody leant in. “ I belong to you, you are everything.” The words hung heavy in the air as they held eye contact.   

“I will take care of the meal tomorrow and deal with the rest of the cleanup” He pressed a gently kiss to Rody’s head “you get some rest; this must’ve been a lot for you.” Rody wasn’t sure how, but Vince always seemed to know exactly what he needed. He could already feel the fatigue setting into his bones, his gift had been quite strenuous on his injured body.   

Slowly he made his way to the bathroom, begrudgingly using the vile tub to scrub off any remnants of Richard that lingered on his body, getting himself clean and dry. Once he had left and made it to the bedroom, he immediately sunk into the silk sheets, the feeling was phenomenal on his skin. However, he staved off sleep, waiting for Vince, who arrived a bit later. Rody’s eyes had begun to droop but he refused to drift until he was in the other man's arms. Thankfully he didn’t need to wait long. Long arms stretched around him and pulling him close. Rody tilted his head up and was rewarded with a sweet chaste kiss, snuggling into the man’s warmth and nodding off peacefully.  

Chapter 14: Kitchen Fork

DAY ??????? 

A loud yawn broke the silence, Rody was on his back spread out, feeling around his hand made contact with Vince’s thigh, giving it a soft squeeze and sliding his arm over his lap as he moved onto his side to pull him closer. The angle was a bit awkward as Vince was sat upright, frustrated Rody lifted his head to lay on his leg, looking up at the other man.  

Noticing the new pressure Vince turned to the source, his pen and papers still in hand and narrow squared glasses perched precariously on the edge of his nose. “Yes?” Rody had never seen him wear glasses before. He supposes there are still some things they don’t know about each other. You see the problem with Vince wearing glasses is that he looked so cute with them on . A soft blush rose to Rody’s cheeks as he attempted to burrow into Vince’s thigh so the other man would not see.  

Resting the papers on his lap his free hand made its way into Rody’s hair. “You know I love that your hair always looks untamed” he emphasised this by running his fingers through strands “it's so soft and represents you as a person: somewhat messy and wild, but also gentle.” The words hit Rody deep, he had never been given such a genuine compliment before. Taking a sneak peek from his hiding place, he was faced with Vince wearing a soft expression and still wearing those glasses . Huffing Rody sat himself up, placing a hand on Vince’s cheek to pull him into a passionate kiss. It wasn't anything different to their usual kisses, just a short press of their lips, but the passion behind it was different, new. Rody wanted, needed to be closer.  

When he pulled back, he slid his hands up to push the glasses on top of his head. “I don’t like them.” Vince sighed “oh? And why not” Rody could feel the blush spreading. “I don’t like how they look on you.” The pout on his face matched with the growing red flush showed his true thoughts about them, and Vince couldn’t help the smirk. “Well unfortunately for you I need them to read for work, so I suppose you’ll have to suffer.”  

His pout faded as he took in those words. “Work.” 

“Work.” 

“What do you need to read?” 

“Inventory.” 

“Oh.” 

“Is there a problem?” 

“No.” 

“Rody-” 

“There isn’t anything wrong okay!” He winced the moment the words came out, it was harsher than he had intended. Vince didn’t seem all too phased however, just simply removed his glasses (how dare he but also thank God, Rody’s blood pressure couldn’t handle much more) and placed the pen and papers to the side, turning all his attention onto the other man. “Do you miss working?”  

This. This is what he wanted to avoid. A serious conversation. The moment conversations become serious people leave him, his parents never really liked him, he never made any meaningful connections with others, and his ex-girlfriend left him. All when the future was brought up. And now Vince was doing the same. He was going to leave him. He was going to-  

A flick to the forehead brought him back to a scowling face. “Stop that.” Before Rody even had a chance to question him he continued: “stop catastrophising, I’ve noticed you have a tendency to overthink. Just tell me how you are feeling.” He couldn’t even look him in the eye, staring straight down at the bed sheets. How was he supposed to bring this up to the man that cared for him, loved him, the man that he- “I feel useless okay!?” The chef stared at him, letting him continue. “You do everything for me. And I love it, I’ve never had someone care for me like this, but I want to do something for you. I want to provide for you the way you do for me, I don’t just want to- to sit around all day keeping you from work. I don’t want to... be a burden.”  

Vince simply blinked at him, before moving his hand to Rody’s chin, gripping it gently but firmly and forcing him to look him in the eye. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, but Vince had this look , like he was safe, but was demanded an answer to an unspoken question. “I need to be doing something. I wouldn’t exactly say I miss work, but I do miss the routine, I miss having a purpose.” He wasn’t sure he got his point across. Or if Vince would even accept it, but then he smiled, a gentle loving smile, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Your leg seems to be doing much better, I’d say you likely could start work tomorrow if you wish, my one rule is no heavy lifting. I don’t need you getting more injured or potentially harming someone else.”  

That last part seemed a bit redundant and hypocritical, ironic even, but it made sense. Besides he was more focused on the prospect of getting back to work. Of retrieving some sense of familiarity. “Yes! Yes, I’d love that! Thank you, Vince!” He smiled at him as the other man gently played with his hair. “You can always tell me things, besides, I know you won’t actually leave me” he pulled slightly on Rody’s hair, not hard enough to hurt but enough to be felt “you know no one will love you the way I do.” He was right of course, no one would love Rody as deeply as Vincent did. They both knew it. He needed Vince, just as much as Vincent needed Rody. He needed Vincent, just as much as Vince needed Rody.  

“I should finish up with checking the inventory, since your foot is getting better and you have the cane would you like to get ready in the bathroom? I will go in after so you can relax on your own for a bit before I make dinner. There’s a new cuisine idea I’ve had that is a bit... Out there, but I believe you will like it regardless.” All Rody could do was smile. “You know I love everything you make.” He got up and grabbed his cane to help him into the bathroom, sighing at the immediate eyesore.  

“Hey Vince!?” He heard a loud hum from the bedroom, “you need to get a new bath.” There was a beat of silence before he heard Vince begin to question him but he cut him off. “Please I can’t keep looking at it.” There was another pause, this one longer. “I like my decorations though.” Rody was still glaring at the tub. “You can keep everything else in the apartment just please get rid of this one thing and let me pick the next one.” He could hear the sigh before the grumble of acceptance. Smiling and calling out a ‘thank you’ he got ready for the day, excited for once about the future and its prospects.  

Once he was ready, he ventured to the sitting room and spread out along the sofa, deciding to watch a film as Vince was preoccupied. Looking through the options he landed on an old-fashioned horror film called invasion of the body snatchers. The gore was not particularly accurate, (which startled Rody a tad as he was now able to accurately describe what it was like to kill someone) but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It was over soon enough, and Vince had emerged from the hallway to the living room, lifting Rody’s legs so he could sit under them.  

They relaxed into each other, sitting comfortably together. Vince traced small patterns on Rody’s legs as they finished watching whatever was on the television. They didn’t need to speak, it was pleasant, basking in each other's presence. The cosy moment they had created was soon interrupted by a loud growl from Rody’s stomach. Sheepishly he turned to Vince who was beginning to stand up. “Well, I can’t just let you starve, let’s get you that food, shall we?” He gave him a quick kiss on the top of the head on his way to the kitchen.  

His next dish would possibly be a tad eccentric, but he was excited to try it. It also might finally be a texture he could enjoy as well, apart from the first few times they ate together he had been having smoothies while Rody ate intricate meals, he wished they could eat together, and this seemed like the perfect compromise. He located the meat precured from Richard’s body and grabbed a knife used for skinning to separate the muscles into thin cuts, adding garlic and rosemary as seasoning to one of the cuts and smoked paprika on the other with salt and black pepper to sprinkle over both.  

Setting up the pots and pans on the stoves he left the filets to marinate he grabbed the most important ingredient: the heart. He had saved it after Rody so sweetly presented it to him. Vincent checked the bags of Richard’s blood he had also stored away, they were still fresh enough to use, and thick enough to be perfect for what he wanted to do. He set the heart aside in a cooler with the blood to keep them chilled but not frozen.  

With the preparations over he began to lightly cook the meat, careful to not overcook it, he still wanted it to be slightly pink. Vince added some vegetables to steam, checking the food continuously. It was cooked quickly, so he prepared the plates, separate for the different flavours and picked up the blood, bringing the dishes into the dining area. He was pleasantly surprised to see the table had been set in their nice linen cloth with a bottle of expensive red wine to compliment it, and posh silverware.  

“You set the table nicely.” It wasn’t said in a demeaning way, more of a polite acknowledgement that made Rody’s heart flutter. Placing the dishes down he retrieved the blood to pour delicately onto the meat in a nice pattern, giving himself more to mask the texture of the meat itself, which Rody appeared to pick up on. “You’re going to eat solid food? You know I don’t mind your smoothies.” He smiled at the attention to detail Rody appeared to pay. “This is a nice meal, it should be appreciated as it is intended, besides, I believe I have found a way around the texture problem, and I am to test it. I have just the thing for you as well.”  

He left the room before the other man could question him, bringing back the cooler with him and revealing its contents. “His heart?” Vincent pulled out the organ and raised it to his mouth, wrapping his lips around the aorta, squeezing his fingers ever so slightly whilst simultaneously sucking, the blood shooting from deep in the heart to his awaiting mouth. It was thick and slightly cold and oh so refreshing. Some dribbled out of the pulmonary artery down his shirt but the feeling of drinking from the heart made it worth it. When he had finished a few gulps he removed the organ to look at Rody. His eyes were wide but not with fear, with something else. Something Vincent was getting to know quite well. And he liked it.  

Wordlessly Rody picked up the bottle of wine where Vince assumed he would drink from, instead it was put to the side as he reached his hand out in a silent plea for the heart. How could Vince say no to that? He handed the organ to him and watched intensely as he repeated what Vincent had done, squeezing and drinking the blood from his heart, as if it was a juice box. It felt intimate, unbroken eye contact as he drank whilst Vince ate. The meal was the best he had ever made by far, and he couldn’t help but feel pride as he watched Rody absolutely devour the food in front of him, frantically swallowing the blood in between bites until there was nothing left. Vince was also pleased to discover the copious amounts of blood he had drank/poured onto his food had made it bearable to consume. 

They were thoroughly full by the time their plates were cleared. It was the perfect. Everything felt like it was finally falling into place, they were free to be themselves together. They migrated back to the sofa to rest and let their food go down, turning the television on for background noise, sinking comfortably into one another. “So, what would you like to do today? I can let you get back to work by tomorrow but for today is there anywhere you would like to go?”  It was touching how much Vince cared, he listened to Rody and catered to his wants and needs, and he seemed completely fulfilled with their lives as they were, never making Rody feel like he was not enough. He was enough for Vince. He was finally enough.  

“I want to do something you enjoy. You do so much for me, and I love it, but I want to explore your interests as well.” Vince thought for a moment before answering. “Well, my interests are mainly cantered around the restaurant and you.” Rody frowned. “There must be something you enjoy doing apart from work or what we can do at home?” Vince sighed. “If you are adamant we do what I choose, then I suppose I have wanted to try wine tasting for quite some time now.” Rody’s eyes seemed to light up at this suggestion. “That sounds perfect! But I don’t have any clothes that would be nice enough for such an establishment.” Vince smiled at him. “You can wear my clothes if it means that much to you” he slid closer to Rody, slipping an arm around his waist “but what you wear won’t matter” his other hand slid up to his throat, tilting his chin up ever so slightly as he gently grasped it, looking intensely into his eyes “there are other parts of you far more captivating, and besides” his grip tightened, not enough to hurt but enough to be present “I don’t want others looking at what’s mine.”  

Vince had seen plenty shades of red, from the deep red of wine to the organic red of blood, to paler of a ripe tomato, none, compared to the beautiful shade of red adorning Rody’s face in that moment. He was exquisite. Perfect. The way Rody was looking at him now would be carved into the back of his eyelids, never forgotten. Leaning in he captured the other man's lips in a kiss, rough and possessive and oh, so sweet. “If you did wish to change, I would suggest doing it soon, I have some connections with wineries through the restaurant so it will be easy to find a tasting nearby with availability.”  

It took Rody a few seconds for his brain to catch up to the conversation, simply blinking at Vince before nodding once and getting up with the help of the chef, walking himself to the bedroom while the other headed to his phone and called up a local winery he precures his alcohol for the restaurant from. Vince’s clothes were still a tad too tight on him, but he had nicer options, far more appropriate for the scenery for the date. That is what this was, wasn’t it? They had never labelled exactly what they are, but Rody couldn’t think of a word more fitting. He had chosen out a simple black cotton shirt and slacks, they hugged his body tightly but would do the job.  

He promptly left the room to rejoin Vince in the living room, walking in to witness the chef ending a phone call. “Château Pape Clément have a taste tour currently that they have permitted us to attend, it is a daylong affair so we can leave whenever we please.” His connections would never fail to impress Rody, Vince really was incredible. “That sounds perfect, I am ready whenever you are.” The chef smiled at him and interlocked their hands as they walked out of the apartment to the restaurant that was currently closed, out to the main street. It was relatively quiet; Vince’s chauffeur that he had arranged alongside the tasting parked just down the road. Being the gentleman he is, Vince opened Rody’s door for him and shut it after he was seated before climbing into the other passenger seat. With a nod to the driver they were on their way, it was a peaceful car journey that was over before they knew it, arriving promptly at their destination.  

It looked beautiful. Even from outside the front of the building the vineyard was so impressive, the fields spread out wide and organised and gorgeous in colour. Excitedly Rody tugged at Vince’s arm, pretending his leg hurt more than it actually did so he could lean into him without people questioning them. The inside of the building was just as intriguing; the tour covered the production areas alongside the outside where they could pick some of the fruit for themselves. It was rather fun, and Vince seemed to be in his element, telling Rody about the details of the fruits and which were ripe enough to be picked, even what notes they would give off in the wine. Rody was in awe.  

The tour moved on quickly and it was soon time for the main event, the tasting. Rody was especially excited about this part, he may not understand how wine is exactly made even with the tour and Vince’s commentary, but he does know how to drink. They were seated at a small table in the corner of the room, 2 empty glasses on the table. The white wine was brought out shortly after, and as the waiter was pouring Vince was already explaining how the wine should be tasted. Apparently, it was not the kind of drinking Rody was used to. Each wine that was brought out had to be drank in a particular way to ensure all the flavours were tasted. At least that’s what Vince said, after their 5th glass Rody was beginning to have trouble following the instructions given and the wine began tasting the same.  

“Ah finally the red is being brought out, this is my personal favourite, the flavours are far more stimulating.” What. No. More? Rody seriously miscalculated this date. At this rate he wasn’t going to survive. As the wine was being poured, he felt a pit in his stomach. Oh God he hoped he wouldn't throw up, he really needed to pace himself, limiting to only one small sip per wine. Vince seemed to be having a good time from what Rody could see, which admittedly was not a lot, he seemed to be smiling though, which in turn made Rody smile, resting his head on his shoulder. The sound of Vince muttering the different tastes relaxed Rody, but they soon stopped, curiously Rody asked “why’d you stop?” Vince seemed to stiffen for a second, “I thought I had bored you to sleep.” Rody giggled lightly “I like your voice, keep talking.” It was lucky Rody was intoxicated with his head on his shoulder else he would have spotted the obvious blush growing across his face, although Vince was equally drunk at this point, so it wouldn’t have made much of a difference. Clearing his voice, he continued speaking about the different wines for the rest of the evening, Rody humming periodically to let Vince know he was still listening.  

By the time they were ready to leave Rody had sobered up some, still lightly drunk but not to the point of being a liability. Vince still helped him out of the building to the car though, despite being worse for wear after the amount he drank, almost tripping them several times, smiling the whole trip home. The drive back felt even shorter, probably due to the wine, and they made their way into the restaurant and up to the apartment, quickly brushing their teeth next to the finally soon to be gone bathtub before dressing in sleep clothes and crawling into bed, wrapped around each other. They held one another gently, pressing soft kisses to any exposed skin as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.  

Notes:

My friend gave me the idea for drinking from the heart, couldn't have done this without them :)

Chapter 15: Tongues And Teeth

DAY 1  

It was bright and early when Rody arose from his slumber, he could feel Vince stirring as well, reaching over to check the nightstand to see the time. It said 4am, far too early for Rody, but the chef was required to be there earlier, so he got out of the bed, kissing Rody gently on the head before getting ready for work. It didn’t take him long, a 30-minute shower and then another 15 to get presentable. By the time he was finished it was almost time for him to head down to the restaurant, but over an hour before the waiter even needed to wake up.   

He made his way to the restaurant, he had seen the inventory so did not need to check stock, he simply needed to create the set menu for the day. There were many options for him, for starters he would make foie gras, a delicacy consisting of duck liver. For the main: ratatouille, a dish to remind the guests of their childhood, and finally the dessert. A staple for elegance and sophistication: Crème brûlée. Now to select the accompanying wine, chianti would pair well, red was always a personal favourite and goes down nicely with red meat which is the main dish.  

With the preparations out of the way it was time to begin the display of the menu and the cooking. Some other cooks began filtering into the restaurant for their shifts, starting to gather the ingredients needed for the day's menu. With the majority of the work already completed for the morning he was free to take a smoke break. He hadn’t smoked freely in a while; he didn’t want to smoke around Rody as he himself isn’t a smoker.   

Lighting up his cigarette he brought it to his lips and took a long slow drag, holding it in for a few seconds before exhaling. He missed the nicotine, the smell, the feeling, all of it. Rody was worth putting off his smoking habit though. Inhaling again he looked up at the sky, watching the smoke drift upwards. He wasn’t sure how long he had been outside but surely it was far too long as Rody had come out of the door to the outside where Vince was. The chef put out his nearly finished cigarette and turned to the other man, “what time is it?” Rody seemed a tad concerned, “it’s been a while since my shift started, I came to find you since you usually supervise but when I went to put the bins out, I couldn’t find you.” He lifts a black bin bag in emphasis.   

Had he really been out here that long? Rody seemed to be looking at the now put out cigarette lying on the floor. “Why’d you put it out? I haven’t seen you smoke in forever.” Vince didn’t know what to say, he was unaware Rody had even noticed his smoking habits. “Well, I know you don’t smoke so...” The waiter gave him a look that made him feel stupid. “Just because I don’t smoke doesn’t mean I am against you smoking. You can light up another one you know, you always look after everyone in the restaurant, but they can survive without you for a bit, you haven’t smoked in such a long time, so another one won’t hurt.” He thought about it for a moment before tentatively pulling out another cigarette and lighting it. Rody watched him lift the smoke to his lips and take a drag.   

They stood there in silence for a moment, Vince periodically taking another inhale. “You know” It was the first words they had spoken in a while, the cigarette was already halfway through “I have always wondered about the taste of smoke.” That gave the chef a reason to stop, looking at the other man. Wordlessly he took another inhale before holding out the cigarette in offering, but before he could exhale properly Rody had grabbed his hand and pulled him forward. The chef stumbled into him as their lips crashed together, Rody moving against him so Vince would exhale the smoke into his mouth. God it was the most attractive thing he had ever experienced.   

They pulled away from each other, a light blush across both of their cheeks. “It didn’t taste too bad actually. Anyway, I should really get back to work.” He hesitated for a second before giving Vince a quick peck on the cheek and heading inside to presumably continue his work. The chef stayed outside trying to calm his frantically beating heart, finishing off the cigarette in the process. By the time he returned to the restaurant business was in full swing and there was no more time for smoke breaks. He was too busy supervising the chefs, ensuring everything was up to standard.   

The day moved on smoothly after that. Rody seemed to be thriving, completely in the zone as he served people with practised efficiency and grace. The customers also seemed to be enjoying themselves. It seemed to be a perfect day. It put his mind at ease, everything seemed to be going well with the restaurant despite the recent events, and he and Rody had never been better. He was a bit worried that things wouldn’t go this well for him, his ‘hobby’ had not been widely accepted in the past, but Rody did, he took all the bad and he shared his own sins in return. They matched each other perfectly, he couldn’t have asked for better.  

Thinking about their recent escapades made him consider some things though, specifically what they were going to do with the rest of the ‘produce’. It would take them a while to get through all their ‘food’, but it would be a waste to just dispose of it. Perhaps it would be best they invest in some kind of pet? He would have to introduce his ideas to Rody when their shifts were over. The day was practically over by now anyway, and since Rody is living with him upstairs it only makes sense he would help with the close.  

The close went smoothly, both working perfectly in tandem. It was over before they knew it, everything was cleaned and closed so they could go up to the apartment. They got ready together in comfortable silence, but Vince couldn’t help but notice Rody glaring at the bathtub every now and again. “I promise you can choose a new bathtub to replace this one soon, I just need some time first.” Rody smiled at him and nodded, following the other man into the bedroom and getting cosy under the covers, gravitating towards each other.   

“I actually did want to speak to you about another addition to the apartment, if you are open to it.” Rody turned to face him, placing a hand on his chest, listening. “Well, since we have a lot of... meat leftover that neither of us will likely eat, so I was thinking maybe a pet would be beneficial?” Rody’s eyes seemed to light up and he sat up excitedly “you mean we can get a puppy!? I’ve been wanting one for so long, but I never had the... stability for it.” He seemed to get a tad quiet after that, so Vince gently kissed the top of his hair. “Now you have me, and I don’t intend on letting you go.”  

They cuddled into each other, Rody’s head resting on his chest, Vince’s hands wrapped around his waist and in his hair, protectively. “We can have a look at dog shelters tomorrow in the morning when the restaurant is quiet.” Rody looked up at him with almost pleading eyes, Vince sighed. “And we can have a look for a new bathtub.” He smiled up at him and snuggled in closer as they drifted off together.  

Chapter 16: I Am An Animal Cannibal

Notes:

I've had so much fun with writing about Rody's hatred for Vince's bathtub.

DAY 2      

Rody was up far earlier than necessary, he was excited about the prospects of the day. Vince had discussed with him not only getting rid of that infernal bathtub, but they also discussed getting a puppy! Sitting up he started gently shaking Vince’s arm, stirring him from his slumber. “Mm what.” He didn’t seem to be waking up enough, so he did the only reasonable response: he jabbed his sides with his fingers. Vince jolted upright screeching “what oh my God!?” Giggling, Rody tumbled out of bed and grabbed Vince’s arms to begin pulling him out from under the covers. “Come on today is exciting! And we only have the morning to do our shopping, so we have to go!” Vince was already beginning to regret this, he may be a chef that is used to waking up early, but this was just cruel. One look at Rody’s face though and he was caving.  

Yawning deeply, he joined Rody out of bed. The waiter was quick to get ready despite his probably still somewhat painful injury, clearly energised and ready, Vince was more sluggish, taking his time when getting ready to ensure he was presentable, he may not be going anywhere extravagant but that doesn’t mean he has to dress like a slob, so he opts for his regular black  V-neck long-sleeved top and slacks. Rody had chosen some dark green cargos, a white t-shirt and a flannel shirt to go over the top. It was less sophisticated, but Vince couldn’t find it in him to complain with the way the clothes hugged his muscles.   

Once they were sure they had everything they would need they left the apartment and restaurant to head outside, taking a short walk to Vince’s parked car. It wasn’t a long drive; there were plenty of pet shelters in the area. They decided they would go to the closest ones first and see if they click with any of the animals. The first shelter was a small building, run by a friendly old lady who welcomed them warmly. She seemed to have a large family, pictures of them up everywhere at the front desk, making the shelter feel ‘homier’. The animals even looked like the types of animals she would care for, an assortment of small fluffy creatures such as rabbits, cats and puppies. None of the dog breeds seemed to match their requirements unfortunately, the main one being a strong dog that can rip through flesh with ease. Those small Yorkshire terriers may be capable of violence, but they were not exactly what they were looking for.  

They continued to the next shelter, this one was much less welcoming, it seemed to be in horrible condition, with many aggressive and slightly rabid animals. They were good in theory as they were large and definitely capable of dealing damage, there was also the fear they would also turn aggressive towards them, something they would want to avoid, especially if the animal were to discover what they were being fed. That would be a big problem. The man at the shelter also did not seem credible, so they opted to keep looking.   

The next shop was a furniture store, so they decided to check out the bathtubs before continuing their look for a suitable pet. Entering the shop, they walked over to the bathroom furniture, Vince took a step back as Rody took a step forward, examining all of the options. The chef still did not understand why his bathtub vexed the other man so, but if he was adamant about a new one then so be it. They all looked the same to him, plain white, simple, exactly like his, but Rody seemed sure that these were different. He was very serious about this selection, imagining the apartment and how it would fit. Eventually he settled on a porcelain white bathtub.   

“Rody.”  

“Yes?”  

“This is a white porcelain bathtub.”  

“It is.”  

“The exact same as my bathtub.”  

“Wrong.”  

“How am I wrong?”  

“Because your bathtub has straight edges!”   

This perplexed Vince even more. The bathtub Rody had decided on was a traditional roll top bathtub, that had curved edges at the end, and two straight edges on the side.  

“This bathtub also has straight edges?”   

Rody seemed to be getting exasperated as the conversation went on.   

“This bathtub is freestanding, it won’t be against the wall like yours is, this is how normal baths are supposed to look.”  

Vince still didn't get it, but the look on Rody’s face made it worth it. He instantly paid for the tub, asking about instillation fees. The man who was selling the bath explained that they would be able to send a team of plumbers to remove their current bath and install the new one, and that it would be an extra 10%. The price wasn’t too bad, so he agreed and paid them the extra amount. With that sorted they were free to continue their shop for a pet. It was the store that reminded them that they should also think about purchasing a dog bed and perhaps some toys as well. Once they agreed on a budget for extras for the pet, they left the store in hopes of finding something suitable.   

They travelled through a few more shelters, a few had very cute animals, one even had a small rat, similar to the one Rody had left in the kitchen... he really hoped Vincent didn’t know about that. By the time they reached the 7 th shelter they had begun to lose all hope. This adoption centre was rather run-down, the owner being a large muscular man, covered in tattoos and bald. He barely acknowledged the men, grunting at them in greeting and gesturing to the back without speaking, letting them explore the shelter themselves. The animals seemed to be quite aggressive, a few more anxious than the rest. One was a Doberman, majestic and a lovely black. It was rather large and seemed to be better behaved than the rest, willing to eat pretty much anything it seemed on the information leaflet by its kennel.   

Rody and Vince decided to speak to the owner about the Doberman, requesting more information before committing to anything. “A boy, 5 years old, purebred. He’s obedient, aggressive when needed and will eat anything, took a while to train him, he wasn’t always so docile if you know what I mean.” The way he spoke put the two on edge, he seemed to be referring to training the animals, but he didn’t appear to actually care about them. It gave them a sense of unease, the longer they stayed there the more suspicious they became. The shelter was quite dark, with less-than-optimal facilities, and the animals had bandages wrapped around all different body parts on them. It wasn’t difficult to deduce how the owner was treating them.   

Vincent looked the owner up and down. The shelter was small enough it could be run by a single person, and there didn’t appear to be a roster anywhere to imply there were other employees. “We would like the Doberman, thanks.” Rody knew this look, he knew what Vincent was thinking, and he was thinking it too. “I read somewhere that you have to do house checks to ensure the dogs are going to a safe place. Are you not going to come check our apartment? We wouldn’t want to break regulations.” The man seemed taken by surprise, but slowly nodded, likely assuming he would be reported if not, and that would be a problem for him. Vincent smiled, it was all teeth, “shall we get going then? I’d rather not drive in the dark.” The man from the shelter begrudgingly agreed, connecting a lead to the dogs' collar and following after them.   

Rody helped load the dog into the back of the car, it had plenty of room. He decided to sit in the back for this drive, focusing on the dog, who seemed a bit nervous, scared of the moving vehicle. As he was stroking the dogs head, he seemed to calm down a bit. Vincent decided to make small talk. “We never actually got your name?” Rody could feel the man's anxiety. Guess even sadistic creeps like him feel fear, good. “It’s George.” Vincent nodded but said nothing, the silence stretching onwards until they reached their destination.   

The dog leapt out of the car over Rody the moment the door was open, happy to be out. Rody was quick behind, grabbing the lead so he wouldn’t get far. Vincent and George were next. “This is a restaurant?” Vincent began opening the door. “Mine, my apartment is upstairs.” George was hesitant walking through the restaurant to the apartment but seemed to relax once he was inside. He probably assumed that meant he could leave soon. He couldn’t be more wrong.   

Rody and their new pet were the last inside, closing and quietly locking the door behind. “Welp seems like a nice place you got, looks up to code so I’ll be on my way-” a hand on his shoulder interrupted him. “You haven’t checked the rest of the apartment, come, I’ll give you a tour.” Vincent didn’t give George a chance to respond before he was being ushered to the other rooms. With each room acme increasing panic, until they were in the final room, the one where Richard died. They hadn’t cleaned it up yet, the blood still staining the floors, the moment the door opened it was clear George would not be leaving, but that realisation did not come quickly enough. Like a fly in a spider's web, he was caught the moment he got in that car, trapped forever.   

The metallic smell hit them first, next was the sight. There was more blood than Vincent remembered, it covered the floor, it even splattered onto the walls. The whole room was a blatant murder scene. George was thrown to the middle of the room, his head hitting the floor, looking up dazed he saw Rody stood above him, his leg still slightly elevated from where he kicked him. The dog was laying on the floor behind him, gnawing at some cooked meat. “He loves it Vince, looks like we don’t need to worry about having too much.” Vincent chuckled at him, looking directly at George. “Well then we better get his next meal ready.”   

There was no escape, he was like a cornered animal, the two men blocking his path, the sickening room wrapping around him so he couldn’t escape. He let out a yell as he scrambled to his feet, keeping low and charging in an attempt to take out the ginger. He only got a few feet before he let out a shriek of agony, his body hitting the ground as his leg made an ugly crunching sound. The skinny black-haired one had kicked him in the leg right below the knee with enough force the bone beneath broke out of the skin. George couldn’t see through his tears, but he registered that he was being dragged into a chair, bindings constricting his body, no escape. Is this how the dogs must’ve felt? Powerless? But he was better than a dog, so why would they treat him like a filthy mutt? He didn’t get to think much more beyond that as he felt sharp teeth biting into his leg. Looking down in horror he saw the dog he had abused its whole life, tearing into him as though he were a meal.  

The screams were deafening, it was beginning to get on Vincent’s nerves, he preferred his food to be silent. Clicking his tongue he left the room, returning shortly with a thin knife. “Rody, would like to do the honours of shutting the squealing pig up? I’d rather not touch his disgusting mouth.” The waiter looked just as nauseous at the idea but took the knife anyway and stalked his way over to the man. “No, please, you can’t! It hurts!” He was panting in between word, begging for his life, for mercy. The incessant noise was enough motivation for Rody to hold George’s mouth open and reach the knife in, placing it under the tongue, sawing upwards.  

George continuously struggled, pulling at his restraints as the dog bit down harder into his leg, screaming into Rody’s hand until his tongue was well and truly severed. Copious amounts of blood spilled from his mouth as he appeared to lose consciousness, finally leaving the room silent save for the sounds of teeth ripping into flesh. Roody knelt to pet the dog, rewarding him. “We need to think of a name for the little guy.” Vince looked at the Doberman, unease radiating from him. “I haven’t had a dog since... I want to take better care of this one.” Vince reached down, startling the dog who scampered to hide behind Rody. “Give it some time, you two will get used to each other. How about you stay upstairs and bond with the dog while I work my shift tonight?”   

It wasn’t a bad idea; it would also give Vince enough time to make a meal for them both after Rody’s work as he will probably be hungry. Silently he nodded, eyeing the dog warily. Perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, he was unsure of how to go about this. The dog cocked its head at him, tail wagging gently behind it. Vince sighed and knelt down, the Doberman shifting back slightly. Frowning, he reached a hand out, leaving it there for the dog to inspect. Cautiously he sniffed him, licking a long stripe along his hand, making Vince grimace, opting to pet his head softly as the dog allowed him. Smiling he pet the dog, getting up and leading it to the living room where he laid on the sofa, putting on a classic TV show. Maybe having a dog isn’t so bad, he would definitely treat this one better than previously.  

When he next opened his eyes Rody was crouched in front of him, staring. Jolting upright he realised the dog was on top of him, sleeping soundly. He scratched behind his ear gently. “I didn’t realise I fell asleep, what time is it?” Rody’s face was fond as he pressed a soft kiss to Vince’s temple. “I just finished my shift, I haven’t been home long.” Vince pouted, “I wanted to have dinner ready for you by the time you got home.” Rody made an ‘aww’ sound which made Vince’s pout deepen. “Red meat can be eaten raw right?” A look of surprise flashed across Vince’s face as he nodded. “I’ll get that ready then, I don’t want to wake the dog, so you stay there, did we want something fresh? The stuff in the freezer would need to be defrosted otherwise.” Vincent had never been more in love. “Fresh sounds perfect.”  

Rody made his way to the room where George still sat, tied down and bleeding from his prior wounds. He didn’t appear to be conscious. Good. The tools used previously were still handy in the room, so Rody retrieved a hack saw and began to survey the man's body. His thigh might be too big, if he lives for a while longer it’d be a shame to waste anything fresh, so perhaps an arm? Gripping the arm to Rody’s right he pressed the saw into the skin just above his elbow, rocking the blade back and forth with increasing pressure to saw through the meat and bone. Every so often George would twitch and make a pained groaning noise, but he never regained consciousness, allowing Rody to continue his work uninterrupted until the arm was completely severed and there was now a steady stream of blood dripping from him matching the bloody tool that was put back in its original position on his way out, taking the arm with him that he had quickly wrapped so he wouldn’t make a mess.  

Once he had arrived back in the living room he could see the dog was now awake, blinking up at him, still on top of Vince. He smiled as he handed the chef the arm, watching as the Doberman sniffed at it, interested, baring its teeth before biting down the meaty section of the hand. Vincent followed suit, sinking his teeth into the forearm and pulling the flesh and muscles harshly as they tore away from the bone, the blood helping him swallow it down. Perhaps it would have been better to put some tarp or something down to prevent staining? Rody was looking for an excuse to remodel the living room anyway, so it wasn’t a big problem.  

Rody squeezed in next to Vincent and took the end of the arm into his hand, joining the other two in stripping the meat away and eating in strips, it wasn’t as good as Vince's cooking, but it wasn’t as unpleasant as he assumed it would be. They were able to clean up with relative ease, going to bed with full bellies and some leftovers for the morning, wrapped up in each other and their new addition sleeping soundly at the bottom of their bed.  

Notes:

I wanted to show that even though they are sort of together now they still have that blood lust, not sure how well that's portrayed though.

Chapter 17: LUNCH

Summary:

My friends gave me some inspiration here, love you guys <3

DAY 3

It was the barking that woke them, the sound sharp and loud, echoing throughout the apartment, startling them. Taking a quick glance at the alarm clock it was revealed it was 9:00am, the restaurant was closed due to the installation for the bathtub being today. Oh. That must be them then. Rody stumbled out of the bed, a dishevelled Vince following, heading to the kitchen to fix them some coffee for the day ahead while the waiter got the door, shushing their dog simultaneously. As expected, it was the plumbers ready to remove that crime against God and install the new bathtub.

The men exchanged pleasantries as Rody apologised for their tardiness, excusing himself to get ready as the plumbers filtered into the bathroom to set up. He threw on some comfy clothes and made his way to the kitchen where some toast and coffee waited for him with a slightly more aware Vince, who went to get dressed in the bedroom next. The Doberman pawed at Rody’s legs as he sipped his coffee, begging for food. The red head made his way to the fridge where some of the leftovers from yesterday were, grabbing a carving knife to haphazardly remove some of the meat from the bone to feed the dog. Honestly it would have been better if Vince had taken care of it, he’s the chef after all and he knows how bad Rody is in the kitchen, so why didn’t he?

A loud BANG reminded him of their company. He stared down in horror at the dog gnawing at the meat as he had a sudden realisation. Not only did he just feed his dog human meat whilst they had oblivious house guests, but they also had a body that may or may not still be alive in the room just a few feet away from them. Shit. Quickly he re-wrapped the rest of the arm and put it in the back of the fridge, running to the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

“Care to explain what that door did that offended you so?” Rody was out of breath from running and panicking, struggling to get his words out. “Body.” A look of confusion flashed across Vince’s face before morphing into dread. “George!” Leaving the bedroom in a hurry they almost bumped into one of the workers. “Oh, sorry was just coming to check in, we’ve just finished setting up the tools and are ready to start whenever you two are.” Vincent put on a polite smile “of course, we-” a low groan interrupted him, coming from the locked room. Still alive then. “Did you hear something coming from that room?” Rody leant over to lean against the door, attempting to appear casual “oh yeah no don’t worry the pipes groan sometimes.”

“Oh, I can fix that too if you lot need?” Rody mentally facepalmed. Great idea telling the plumber it was the pipes. “It’s not a problem really.” The plumber reached a hand out to the doorknob “it won’t hurt to have a look at them.” Rody moved before he could think, gripping the plumbers hand tightly. “You can’t. You see my... girlfriend used to stay in that room, but she passed away... I don’t really want anyone going in there.”Rody moved before he could think, gripping the plumbers hand tightly.

There was an uncomfortable silence that felt like it stretched for miles before the plumber retracted his hand and apologised, returning to his work. The two men released a shared sigh of relief. Lowering his voice, Vince muttered to Rody “I’ll keep our... problem quiet, but I need you to make sure they don’t find out anything is out of the norm here, they can’t know about what we do here, or that we share a bed.” Rody had forgotten that last part was out of the norm, it had become so ingrained in his regular routine it seemed silly to think it is something they would need to hide.

Nodding his head he watched Vincent quietly slip into the room, taking a deep breath Rody stayed in the living room, keeping an eye on the plumbers and what they were doing, often offering refreshments to them and staying polite. “So, you live here just the two of you?” Ah, this is why Vince had told him specifically not to mention their, relationship(?) “Yes, the rent is cheaper that way, especially since we both work downstairs, only makes sense.” He tried to seem casual, and the men nodded in approval. Meanwhile, Vincent was tackling his own set of problems.

His eyes look glazed over, likely from the excruciating pain he has experienced and the tears he has shed, but he was clearly strong enough to glare and snarl at Vincent. He made sure he was quiet when he spoke, but no less threatening “if you keep struggling, I promise what you have been through will pale in comparison to what I’d do to you next.” George looked about ready to scream, but the moment he opened his mouth a hand wrapped around his throat and squeezed, pressing down on his windpipe in an unrelenting grip, stopping him from screaming, from breathing. The only sounds were pained and shallow attempts at gasps, his legs kicking out in a futile show of rebellion. Vincent made sure to keep a strong hold of him until the kicking stopped, eyes rolling back and the pulse under his fingers significantly weakened but didn’t quite stop just yet. They still wanted him fresh.

Once he was sure George would stay quiet, he snuck back out of the room to join Rody in the living room, who appeared to be entertaining the plumbers with stories from the restaurant, “and then her actual husband came in!” They all were laughing, and once they noticed Vince in the doorway, they invited him to sit. “We have gotten rid of the old bathtub; we’re taking a small break before installing the new one then we’ll be out of your hair.” Vince smiled and gave a polite nod but did not engage in conversation, leaving Rody to socialise for the both of them. They were not wrong apparently about the break being short, as within no time they were back in the bathroom. It was only then that Rody realised they really were alone. The dog was nowhere to be seen.

“Vince, have you seen the dog?”

“No, I thought he was with you?”

“You don’t think he somehow got out, do you?” Rody was panicking now, it had only been a day since they got him and already, they might have lost him. “Don’t stress, I can go look for him, okay? I’m sure he’s still in the apartment somewhere.” Rody didn’t look convinced but agreed, nonetheless. Vince searched the kitchen first, checking to see if he had gone looking for scraps, but he was nowhere to be found. Popping his head quickly into the bathroom and trying not to disturb the plumbers, he confirmed the Doberman was not in there. Next was onto that room. He was quiet and quick when opening the door, relieved to see George still passed out, but his nerves were building steadily as he ran out of places to search. The last place was the bedroom, if he wasn’t in here...

It was quiet, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of the dog. As Vince came to terms with the fact that the Doberman likely escaped, he spotted a sliver of a tail poking out from under the bed. Gently kneeling down he checked under the bed, relieved to see the pet, hiding looking at him wearily. Patting his knee, he managed to coax the creature out, petting him softly. “Why were you hiding? You seemed fine with us... oh, is it the plumbers you’re afraid of?” The animal whined, as though agreeing. “Poor thing.” Carefully he scooped the dog into his arms, which was no easy feat considering the size of him, and walked him to the living room to reunite him with an anxious Rody.

“Oh thank God, you found him!” Vince let him down on the sofa next to Rody, watching as he made a fuss over the pet. They really needed to name him. “Hey Rody, what’s his name?” The other man paused. “Huh, I didn’t think about that. Let's just throw out some names and see what we like?” Vince nodded in agreement.

“Benson.”

“Cerberus.”

“Teddy, Fluffy, Cupcake.”

“Be serious Rody.”

“I am! How about Han?”

“Mm no, Dobby?”

“How is that name any better than the ones I chose?”

“Because they are actual names not just things. Maybe Billy?”

“No, you’re a chef and I’m a waiter, he needs a food name, like Basil, Nutmeg, Tofu, Meatball.”

“He doesn’t need a food related name, just one that we can say in public.”

“Fine, but that really takes the fun out of it. If I have to choose a ‘normal’ name, then I guess I liked Dobby the most. Gelato sounds better though.” His pout was almost humorous to Vince.

“Then his name is decided, Dobby.”

The two smiled down at the Doberman: Dobby, who blinked back at them. The moment was short-lived though as the plumbers entered the living room. “We’re almost done with the installation, just a few more bits to do. Do you mind if we have a bite to eat? We can go down to a shop we just need a small break.” Dobby was quietly growling at them, clearly frightened. Rody attempted to calm him as Vince spoke with the plumbers. “I can whip something up for you don’t worry. Take a seat.”

The two men smiled as they sat down at the table; Dobby had stopped growling by now but still eyed them wearily. Vince made his way to the fridge and opened it up. Oh. He forgot about that. The only thing inside of the fridge was some jam, butter, and a quarter of a severed arm. The only meat they had been eating was human, so he hadn’t bothered to get any other ingredients in. “I might need to get some ingredients from downstairs. It appears we have less food in than I realised.” He gave them an apology but was cut off. “We don’t mind eating your scraps, we’ve definitely eaten worse.” Doubt that. “Besides we wouldn’t want you wasting your fancy food for customers.” Putting on a polite smile he nodded “if you’re sure.”

With practiced ease he was able to get the kitchen set up for a quick lunch, stew would be the easiest thing to create quickly, and the extra vegetables would mask that the meat is most definitely not beef. He got his pot on the stove, heating the water to boiling, grabbing the arm and making sure the plumbers couldn’t see, thankfully Rody was able to distract them easily enough. He made quick work of chopping up the meat into little chunks, tossing them into the boiling water until they turn brown.

Whilst waiting for that to cook he began preparing the vegetables, slicing and dicing them, adding them to the pot. Next was the sauce. He had a few packets of pre-made sauce that he re-heated, adding a small amount of blood from the arm for extra flavour, getting the stew ready to be distributed. A quick and simple dish filled with flavour, he made sure to chop his bits even smaller than the others, so the texture didn’t put him off his food.

“Wow this looks and smells incredible, this is your scraps!?” The other plumber looked equally impressed. “I expected nothing less from a renowned chef.” They dug into the food, eagerly eating everything. “This is the best stew I’ve ever tasted, is this pork instead of beef?” Vincent laughed. “A secret recipe of mine.” Rody was also tucking in, polishing his plate off. It seemed the meal went down well, everyone was constantly complimenting his cooking and exclaiming about these being ‘leftovers’. Well, that wasn’t exactly a lie.

Once everyone was full the plumbers went back to work, and Vince and Rody were free to sit with Dobby watching TV. It was domestic, and nice. The workers finished installing the new bathtub relatively quickly, much faster than the removal of that disgusting first bath. Vince paid upfront with a cheque and the two men were on their way. Rody snuck up behind Vince, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. “We still have the afternoon, what did you want to do?”

Vince thought for a moment before feeling a paw on his shin. “How about we take this little one out for a walk?” Rody smiled and grabbed a collar and leash he received yesterday for Dobby and got him ready for a walk. His tail was wagging excitedly as they left the apartment and restaurant, taking a short walk to the park where they wandered around, making sure to keep a friendly distance from each other. The weather was pleasant, and they enjoyed watching Dobby finally stretch his legs and have a small run.

They spent a few hours at the park, lounging in the sun and spending time together. When it was finally time to go home it was getting dark. It was peaceful and when they got back to the restaurant and apartment, Dobby was finally worn out and ready to sleep, curled up in his spot at the end of the bed. Vince pressed his forehead to the back of Rody’s shoulder. “Want to try out the new bath?”

Vince made sure to plug the drain up and fill the tub with warm water, not too hot but comfortable, until the water was a reasonable height. When he turned around Rody was already naked and ready to get in the bath, slipping into the water and sinking down. Vince was quick to follow suit, sitting behind him so Rody could rest his head on his chest. It was calm between them. This felt right, like everything that lead them to where they are now was worth it. They were soulmates.

“I love you.” It wasn’t the first time Vince had said those words to him. But it was the first time Rody had felt so inclined to reciprocate.

“I love you.”

Rody tilted his head back and Vince leant forwards, their lips brushing against each other, the kiss becoming more passionate. Even after they broke apart, they were still wrapped in each other. Rody lifted one of Vince’s hands, holding him gently. Vince broke the silence. “I was worried you were going to leave.” Rody kissed the back of his hand. “I’m not going to be that easy to get rid of; I am the dirt under your fingernails.”

 

FIN

Notes:

This was really fun to write! (And I totally didn't steal the ending from arcane, highly recommend watching that) I wanted to make Vince and Vincent almost two separate characters that are stuck together, almost like split personality, and show how easy it is to be sucked into a bad situation and justify it so it becomes normalised. Anyways I hope you liked it!

Notes:

I promise it picks up later, but I hope it's enjoyable!