Bernard wiped his hands on his apron and glanced at the clock behind the Burger King counter. It had been a quiet afternoon so far, just the usual rhythm of flipping patties and sweeping floors. He didn’t mind—it was all part of the plan. Working here gave him real-world experience, a stepping stone toward his real dream: becoming a professional chef. The greasy smell of fries and the sizzle of the grill were temporary, but the skills he was building felt permanent.

Today, though, his manager had something different in mind. “Bernard, I need you up front on the register for a while,” she said, nodding toward the cashier station. Bernard blinked, not expecting to be the one taking orders today, but he shrugged and headed over. He liked challenges.

As the bell above the door jingled, a familiar figure stepped inside, sliding into the line with a tired smile. Tim. His boyfriend.

Bernard’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly masked it with a professional smile. “Hi, can I take your order?” he asked, leaning into the soft authority he liked to carry around Tim—sometimes a little playful, sometimes serious, but always with love.