okokok but now i’m thinking about new york!reader coming to chicago. and maybe they’re like visiting or moving here or something but it’s late at the bear, the kitchen is closed, the staff is sitting around, drinks in hand. you’re telling them all about your time with carmy in new york and while he pretends to hate it, really he loves having the one good piece of his old life here.
you were telling the bodega story. you love the bodega story. but you were telling it in what carmen called your radio voice. the voice you use professionally, the one that smooths out the bumps and cuts of how you naturally talk, no influences of your city or your culture. he loves hearing you talk and would do it for hours, radio voice or not (though he would prefer not).
he also knows that you’re a few drinks in and if he gets you the slightest bit passionate, it’ll jump out.
“—and carmy, poor thing, is looking at this sandwich so confused.”
“you said it was a philly cheesesteak!” he argues, beer bottle pointed at you.
“i said it was like new york’s version of a philly cheesesteak,” you counter with your bottle mirrored to his.
there it is. that emphasized ‘o’ in new york and clipped ‘k’s. the unedited version of you that was his home away from home.
“it was on a roll!”
“yeah, because a chopped cheese should be on a fuckin’ roll. also, the name has the word ‘chopped’ in it, ergo the meat is chopped up,” you’re gesticulating with the beer bottle in your hand and carmy just waves you off with a small smile. he’s missed this so much.
you sigh dramatically and lean over to tina on your right, “i swear ta’ god, when i first met carmy it was like watchin’ a baby deer learn ta’ walk. he was clueless!”
there’s laughter and richie elbows him as a silent tease, your version of carmen so different from theirs. he playfully counters, but he knows there’s some truth in it. “hey, i wasn’t that clueless.”
“babe, you paid 15 bucks at a fuckin’ halal cart,” you deadpan making eye contact with him, “it should only be like $8, max.”
“alright, alright, fuck off,” he resigns with a light tone, knowing you two could, and already have, banter about this all night.
you laugh and then you continue the rest of the bodega story—cat and all—with your voice sitting at it’s natural register and cadence.
and carmy just hopes this piece of new york stays with him forever.
