Ahhh this is a long one! I've had this idea cooking for a while so forgive me for indulging. This is a hungerfic about two of my other OC's, Julien Lee and Kobi Theres. They both attended the same culinary school and that's where their rivalry began, but those feelings are soon pushed aside when Julien begins to overwork himself. Contains hunger that is eventually satiated, stomach rumbling, and food as comfort. Let me know if you'd like to see part 2 where we stuff Julien to his limits :))
Kobi wiped her hands on the front of her apron and glanced up at the clock on the wall. The ice cream parlor had just closed, and the soft hum of the refrigerator was the only noise in the otherwise quiet space. The sweet scent of vanilla and caramel still hung in the air as she began to pull her jacket over her uniform. It wasn’t a glamorous job by any means, but Kobi didn’t mind. At least she was on her own terms. The other job offers after culinary school had all felt like a trap—a stepping stone to something that wasn’t hers, something that wasn’t her dream. She shoved her hands into her pockets as she stepped outside into the crisp evening air.
The bright lights of Le Ciel, the fine dining restaurant, gleamed across the street, catching her attention like a moth to a flame. Through the large windows, she could see the bustle of service—silver trays in hand, waiters weaving expertly between tables, the quiet elegance of it all. But then her eyes found him.
She remembered the way Julien used to walk into every room with the confidence of someone who knew they were always going to get the top grade. The way he always had the best knives, the finest ingredients. The best of everything. Meanwhile, Kobi had scrimped and saved just to get by, working part-time jobs and never feeling like she could catch up. She’d spent hours laboring over dishes that he would finish in half the time, his pristine work barely breaking a sweat while she wrestled with the pressure. He had it all, she thought, the bitterness creeping up in her chest again. The day they graduated from culinary school, they promised they’d never speak to each other again. Kobi’s luck, however, ensured she ended up working just across the street from him.
But as she continued to watch him, something past her resentment made her furrow her brows. Julien looked much different. He wasn’t the confident, untouchable figure from school. His movements had lost their precision; his face was too pale, and there was something about the way his shirt clung to his frame that made him look even thinner than before. Her arms crossed instinctively as she leaned against the bus stop sign.
Kobi’s silvery eyes rolled as a smug smirk tugged at her lips. It served him right. After all, this was the guy who always thought of her as an underachiever. Who always got what he wanted. He deserved to know how the struggle felt. “Sucks, doesn’t it, Lee?” She muttered under her breath into the chill air. But as the minutes passed, and as she saw how ragged he looked, something about the way he hunched over the counter, wiping his brow, felt wrong.
He moved frantically, dashing from one end of the restaurant to the other, adjusting silverware, delivering dishes, coordinating with the kitchen. His dark brown hair was slightly disheveled, his dress shirt too loose over his shoulders, sleeves rolled up in a half-hearted attempt at efficiency. The stress that flashed through his eyes sent a pang of pity through Kobi’s chest, much to her annoyance. “It’s not your business.” She mumbled. Yet, she couldn’t pull herself away.
She let out a huff and pushed off from the bus stop sign. It wasn’t her business, but something told her she couldn’t stand by and watch him crumble without at least saying something. She marched across the street, ignoring the discomfort that crept up on her at the thought of facing him. Just a few words, nothing more.
Stepping into the restaurant, she felt all the familiar weight of the place, the high-end decor, the clink of fine china. She wasn’t supposed to be here—wasn’t supposed to be this close to the world Julien had created. She was just a speck in it. Kobi waited by the entrance, watching him scurry across the room. Then, finally, he looked up, and their eyes met. Julien’s face went stiff, and his eyes narrowed. He didn’t have time for her now.
His eyes darted around the room before quickly making his way towards the girl standing in the middle of his dining room. “Do you need something?” he said, voice cold, clipped, chocolate brown eyes scanning her as if trying to figure out what she was doing here. Kobi smirked, though it felt hollow. “I was just passing by. I noticed you’re not lookin’ so hot.” She tilted her head with a teasing grin. “Not that you looked any better before.”
Julien’s jaw clenched. The briefest flicker of frustration crossed his face. “Go away, Kobi. I don’t have time for your crap.” She caught the words and took a small step forward, her smirk faltering slightly as she looked him over again. There was something about him that felt different. More fragile than she remembered. His hair was too messy, his eyes sunken. But instead of pushing those feelings away, she pressed on.
“Are you getting enough to eat?”
The question slipped out before she could stop it, and for a moment, they both stood there in silence.
Julien blinked, taken aback by the question. His lips parted, but the words got caught in his throat before coming out. “What kind of question is that?” he finally scoffed, though the sharpness in his voice didn’t match the exhaustion in his eyes. “I work at a restaurant. I’m literally surrounded by food.” Kobi didn’t miss the way his fingers twitched at his sides, nor the slight hesitation in his tone. He was offended. And yet, she could see something else beneath it—something raw.
“Yeah?” she challenged, arms crossing over her chest. “Then why do you look like you’re about to pass out?” Julien bristled. His mouth opened, but before he could fire back a retort, the low, painful sound of his stomach rumbling filled the space between them. Kobi almost thought she imagined it. But the way Julien stiffened, his entire frame going rigid, told her she hadn’t.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Kobi raised an eyebrow. Julien’s face burned. A flicker of panic crossed his features before he turned his head away sharply, jaw tight. “Tch. It’s just—” “Oh, this is rich.” Kobi smirked, tilting her head. “Julien Lee, starving in a restaurant? You see the irony, right?”
“I’m fine,” he snapped, too quickly, too defensive. But Kobi wasn’t buying it. She had spent too much time competing with him, too much time watching him, to not notice when something was wrong. “You’re running yourself into the ground,” she muttered, her voice lower now, not teasing anymore. “Are you even—”
A voice cut through the air, and Kobi turned to see one of the waiters eyeing her with mild confusion. The man, a polished and poised server with a neatly pressed vest, flicked a glance between her and Julien. “Is there a problem?” Julien straightened immediately, as if shaking off whatever vulnerability had slipped through. His lips pressed into a tight line before he turned to the waiter. “No,” he said coolly. “She was just leaving.” Kobi scoffed. “Oh, come on—” Then, just as subtly as ever, Julien shifted his foot—just enough to nudge her ankle. It wasn’t forceful, but it was enough to send a very clear message: Drop it. Kobi shot him a glare, but the waiter was already waiting for her to move along. Julien didn’t look at her again. With a sharp exhale, Kobi rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever.” She spun on her heel, throwing a pointed look over her shoulder as she walked away.
But as she stepped out of Le Ciel and back onto the quiet street, her smirk had faded completely. She knew what she saw. She knew what she heard. And whether Julien liked it or not, she wasn’t going to let this go.
Another day, another close.
Kobi wiped down the counter of the ice cream parlor one last time before tossing the rag into the sink. The shop was already dark, the lights dimmed save for the neon sign flickering outside. It cast a soft glow onto the sidewalk as she locked up, stuffing her keys into her pocket. The night air bit at her cheeks as she made her way to the bus stop, but for once, the relaxing ride home wasn’t the first thing on her mind. It was Julien.
Kobi scowled to herself, arms crossing over her chest. She hated that he was taking up so much space in her thoughts. It made no sense. She didn’t care about Julien Lee. He was an arrogant, insufferable workaholic who had spent all of culinary school one-upping her at every turn. Yet she couldn’t shake the way his dress shirt had hung looser on his frame, the sharp cut of his cheekbones that hadn’t been there before, or the way his stomach had betrayed him with that awful, hungry growl. It nagged at her—biting, insistent.
With a huff, Kobi reached the bus stop, but she didn’t sit. Instead, her gaze drifted across the street to Le Ciel, the restaurant’s pristine glass windows revealing the usual flurry of movement inside. But before she could spot Julien—
The glass doors of Le Ciel swung open violently, crashing against the frame as a figure burst through them. Kobi’s breath hitched. Julien.
He staggered forward, his steps unsteady, his chest heaving. His hair was a mess—strands sticking to his forehead with sweat—and his normally pristine uniform looked disheveled, the sleeves rolled up unevenly. Then, without warning, his knees buckled.
“Shit,” Kobi whispered, already moving before she even realized it. The Maître d' rushed out after him, his polished demeanor cracking just slightly as he hovered over Julien’s collapsed form. “Lee!” The older man’s voice was clipped, impatient, but there was a sliver of concern beneath it. “Are you alright?” Julien pressed a trembling hand against his temple, trying—and failing—to push himself upright. “I’m fine,” he muttered, but his voice was hoarse, barely above a breath. The Maître d’ didn’t look convinced. “Should we call an ambulance?” Julien’s head snapped up, his eyes sharp with something close to desperation. “No. I don’t— I just need to… Stay here for a moment.”
Kobi felt something twist in her chest.
The Maître d’ exhaled through his nose, clearly weighing the situation. But after a beat, his shoulders relaxed, and the concern in his gaze dulled—like Julien’s insistence was enough to settle the matter. “Well then,” he said, straightening his sleeves, “catch your breath, but I expect you back inside in ten minutes. Understood?”
Kobi froze. Seriously? Julien didn’t even have the strength to stand, and this guy was still expecting him to work? Julien, for his part, said nothing. He only gave a small, tight nod, his fingers curling into the pavement beneath him. The Maître d’ took that as confirmation, brushing nonexistent dust off his cuffs before turning on his heel and heading back inside. The glass doors shut behind him, the restaurant returning to its usual elegance, as if nothing had happened at all.
But something had happened.
Julien was still on the ground, his breath uneven, his hands shaking. And Kobi was done just watching. She moved.
Kobi didn’t rush. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was because she knew Julien would bolt if she came at him too fast, or maybe it was because she still wasn’t sure why she was doing this in the first place. Either way, she took slow, deliberate steps toward him. Julien was still on the ground, one knee bent, his palm braced against the pavement as he tried to steady himself. His breaths were shallow, his fingers twitching where they gripped his black pants. When he caught movement in his periphery, his head snapped up. His shoulders went rigid. Kobi stopped a few feet away. She wasn’t close enough to crowd him, but she wasn’t far enough to ignore, either. For a brief moment, something flickered across his face—something raw, unguarded—but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. His features smoothed over, his usual mask slipping back into place, though there was a crack in it now. A fracture.
“I don’t need your pity,” he said, voice quiet but sharp. Kobi almost rolled her eyes. Typical. Even now, when he was at his absolute lowest, he still had his pride. She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she let out a slow breath before lowering herself down beside him, stretching her legs out like she had all the time in the world. Julien’s gaze snapped to her, eyes narrowing. Kobi didn’t look at him. She just stared straight ahead, arms draped over her knees. “I don’t pity you,” she said simply. “But I do know when something’s seriously wrong.”
Silence stretched between them. Julien’s jaw tensed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed thickly. His hands curled into his pant legs, as if trying to physically hold himself together. Then, before he could come up with another excuse—
The sound that tore from Julien’s stomach was long, raw, and absolutely miserable. Kobi blinked. Julien stiffened, his entire body going taut. His hands clamped over his abdomen like that would somehow take back what had just happened, but there was no hiding it—not from Kobi, and certainly not from himself. His face burned. “…Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, barely audible. Kobi arched her brow. “You talkin’ to me or your belly?” Julien groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “For the love of—”
Another deep, pained rumble rolled through his gut, cutting him off. He clenched his teeth as his stomach twisted, curling in on himself slightly as tears pricked his eyes. Kobi didn’t smirk. Didn’t taunt. Didn’t take the easy win. Because for the first time, she wasn’t thinking about the guy who had beaten her at everything back in school. She wasn’t thinking about the smug, arrogant, privileged chef who had looked down on her. She was looking at Julien—the person. The man who was clearly running himself into the ground, too exhausted to even eat. And something inside her softened.
“How long?” she asked. Julien blinked up at her. “What?” She didn’t waver. “How long has it been since you’ve had a real meal?” His lips parted, but no words came out. He looked away, his grip tightening on his slacks. Another slow, hollow growl gurgled from his stomach, dragging out into the night air. Finally, in a voice so quiet it nearly got lost to the wind, he admitted: “A few days.”
Kobi exhaled through her nose. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Julien let out a bitter, humorless chuckle. “I wish I was.” He leaned his head back against the wall behind him, shutting his eyes. “I get home, and I’m too damn exhausted to cook anything. So I just… sleep.” Until the next shift. Until the next demand. Until the next impossible expectation. His stomach clenched again, the sharp pang pulling a small wince from his lips. Kobi saw it—saw the slight twitch in his brows, the way his fingers dug into his knee.
She sighed, running a hand through her strawberry blonde hair. “…Alright,” she muttered, pushing herself up. “C’mon.” Julien cracked an eye open, wary. “What?” She rolled her eyes. “You need food, dumbass,” she said, extending a hand. “Let’s go.”
Julien didn’t move right away. He glanced at her outstretched hand, then back at the restaurant. The golden glow of Le Ciel’s grand entrance spilled onto the pavement, its pristine glass doors shut tight, but inside, Kobi could see the movement of staff weaving between tables, the ever-rotating dance of fine dining. Julien exhaled sharply through his nose. “I need to be back in a few minutes.” Kobi snorted. “No, you think you need to be back.” He shot her a look, but she crossed her arms, unimpressed.
“Come on, Julien,” she said, tilting her head toward the restaurant. “With your degree, your qualifications, your reputation—do you really think they’d fire you over one meal?” He hesitated. She could see the war waging in his mind—the deeply ingrained fear of failure, of being seen as anything less than perfect. But then—
Julien flinched as another slow, dragging groan rolled through his stomach, louder than the last. Kobi grimaced at the sound. His ears burned red. “…Shut up,” he mumbled, more to himself than to her. Kobi sighed, shaking her head. “That thing’s practically begging you to eat, dude.” She extended her hand again. Julien let out a quiet, defeated breath. His shoulders sagged slightly, and after a moment’s hesitation, he reached up. His fingers curled around hers, his grip weak but warm. Kobi steadied him as he shakily rose to his feet, his body sluggish, stiff from exhaustion and the deep hunger that curled within him. He wobbled slightly, and her grip instinctively tightened. “…Fine,” he muttered, voice low. “Where are we going?” Kobi smirked. “I know a good place.” She gave his hand a small tug, and this time Julien followed.
Kobi led Julien down the street, her pace slower than usual to match his sluggish steps. The crisp night air carried the distant hum of the city—passing cars, muffled voices, the occasional flicker of laughter from a late-night wanderer. Streetlights buzzed softly overhead, their glow casting long shadows on the pavement. Beside her, Julien walked in silence, shoulders slightly hunched.
Kobi’s eyes flicked toward him. His stomach had been growling non-stop since they started walking, each protest more insistent than the last. He kept his gaze forward, jaw clenched, but she didn’t miss the way his hand twitched toward his midsection before balling into a fist. Kobi hesitated. For a brief, fleeting second, she considered reaching out—placing a hand over his stomach, a quiet attempt to soothe the ache. But she quickly stomped down the thought. She was just making sure he didn’t keel over from sheer stubbornness—that was all. She wasn’t here to coddle him. She shoved her hands into her pockets and picked up the pace.
A few minutes later, they arrived. Kobi’s favorite 24-hour diner, just as dingy and reliable as she remembered. The warm glow of neon signage flickered above the entrance, casting a soft pink hue onto the sidewalk. Through the glass windows, Kobi could see red vinyl booths, a long counter lined with spinning stools, and a few scattered night owls nursing mugs of coffee. A bell chimed as she pushed open the door, stepping into the inviting scent of butter, bacon, and maple syrup. Behind her, Julien froze. The smell of food hit him like a freight train. His stomach let out the loudest growl yet—an aching, hollow sound that made him recoil slightly as it rippled through him. Kobi glanced over her shoulder, watching as he stiffened, his ears tinged pink with embarrassment.
She smirked. “Guess your stomach likes the place.” Julien groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Kill me.” Kobi chuckled. “Eat first. Then I’ll consider it.” She grabbed his wrist and tugged him inside.
They slid into a booth near the window, the red vinyl cool against Kobi’s arms as she leaned forward. Across from her, Julien settled in stiffly, his fingers absently tugging at the cuffs of his dress shirt, as if trying to compose himself. A middle-aged waitress with a warm smile approached, flipping open her notepad. “What can I get for you two tonight?” Kobi stretched her arms above her head with a yawn. “I’ll take a cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla milkshake.” The waitress jotted it down with a nod before turning to Julien. “And for you, sweetheart?” Julien hesitated. His eyes flicked to the menu, scanning it as if searching for the smallest, least intrusive option. “…Just a—” He cleared his throat. “Just a side of toast.”
Before Kobi could say anything—
Julien shut his eyes, exhaling slowly as his stomach let out another deep, drawn-out groan.
The waitress raised a brow, biting back a smile. Kobi didn’t even try to hold in her laughter. Julien slumped, dragging a hand over his face. “…Sorry.” Kobi grinned, nudging his menu toward him. “Don’t be modest, chef. You’re not impressing anyone.” The waitress chuckled. “She’s right, hon. You sound like you need more than toast.” Julien sighed, clearly reluctant to let himself indulge. Kobi rolled her eyes and plucked the menu from his fingers. “He’ll take a double stack of pancakes with extra butter, scrambled eggs, and a side of bacon.” The waitress hummed approvingly as she scribbled down the order. “That’s more like it.”
Julien shot Kobi a look. “I didn’t agree to all that.” She smirked. “Your stomach did.” Julien groaned, slumping against the booth as Kobi grinned in triumph. The waitress chuckled, flipping her notepad closed. “I’ll have that out in a jiffy.” As she walked away, Kobi rested her chin in her hand, watching Julien with an air of amusement. “You’re so bad at taking care of yourself, Lee.” Julien sighed, shaking his head. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
The diner hummed with late-night chatter, the clinking of silverware against plates filling the comfortable silence between them. Kobi tapped her fingers against the tabletop, debating whether she should let the quiet linger or dig a little deeper. Against her better judgment, she chose the latter. “So.” She leaned forward slightly, watching him. “Why are you running yourself into the ground? Neglecting your poor belly like it’s some kind of inconvenience?” Julien exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back against the booth. “It’s just… expected of me.” Kobi raised a brow. “To starve?” Julien quickly shook his head. “To work myself to the bone.” He rolled his shoulders as if trying to shake off the weight pressing down on them. “My family has high expectations. They invested a lot in me. It’s my job to meet them.”
Kobi studied him. His exhaustion was bone-deep, the kind that seeped into a person and made a home there. This wasn’t the Julien she knew from culinary school—the arrogant, well-fed prodigy who seemed to have everything handed to him. No, this was someone else entirely. The person underneath what his family wanted him to be. A pang of something uncomfortable twisted in her chest. Pity? Sympathy? She shoved it down before she could give it a name.
Before she could say anything, Julien’s stomach let out another miserable groan, louder and longer this time. He shut his eyes, as if that would somehow block out his body’s very clear demand. Kobi sighed, shaking her head. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” Julien let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no humor in it. “I know.” His voice was quieter now. More unsure. “I just… I don’t know what to do about it.” Kobi watched him for a moment before leaning back against the booth. “Well, for starters, you can stop acting like you’re above basic human needs.” Julien shot her a dry look, but before he could retort, the waitress arrived, balancing two plates stacked high with food.
The waitress set the plates down with an easy smile. “There you go, hon. Get some food in that belly, yeah?” Julien lowered his gaze, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you.” His voice was barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in it was clear. Kobi didn’t comment on it. Instead, she picked up her burger and started eating, figuring it would make him feel less like she was watching his every move. From the corner of her eye, she saw him hesitantly take his fork, twirling it between his fingers before spearing a small bite of food. Slow. Careful. Like he wasn’t sure if his stomach would accept it. The first bite went down fine. Then another. His chewing was methodical, almost reluctant, as if some part of him still thought he didn’t deserve this.
But then something shifted.
The moment the warmth of the food settled in his stomach, his body seemed to realize just how deprived it was. His hunger fully awoke, clawing at him from the inside, and before he could stop himself, he was eating faster, each bite filling a void that had been gnawing at him for days. Kobi glanced up briefly, watching as his careful restraint crumbled under the sheer force of his need. He wasn’t just eating—he was devouring, as if he were afraid the food might disappear if he didn’t finish it fast enough. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t tease or make some smart remark. She just let him eat.
Julien set his fork down with a quiet clink, his plate wiped completely clean. For the first time in what felt like days, his stomach wasn’t hollow and aching. Instead, it was pleasantly full—maybe even too full. Kobi, still working on the last of her meal, glanced at his empty plate and let out a low whistle. “Damn, you really were starving.” Julien stiffened slightly, a flush creeping up his neck. He sat back in the booth, exhaling slowly as his overworked stomach settled heavily against his dress shirt. The comforting warmth of the meal was quickly giving way to a dull pressure, and he shifted in his seat, trying to discreetly ease the strain.
“I don’t usually eat food like this,” he admitted, rubbing his fingers along the seam of his cuff. “I think it… sat a little heavier than I expected.” Kobi leaned her chin against her palm, studying him. She could tell he was trying not to grimace, and that only confirmed her suspicion—his body wasn’t used to eating this way, not with how long he’d been depriving himself. Idiot. Still, she decided not to call him out on it. Not directly, at least. Julien reached for his wallet, pulling out a few bills and setting them on the table, but before he could push them toward the check, Kobi reached over and snatched it up first. “I got it,” she said simply.
Julien frowned. “Kobi—” She gave him a look, daring him to argue. “You can get the next one.” His brow furrowed, processing the weight of that statement. The next one. For the first time since this night started, he allowed himself to believe—just for a second—that maybe this wasn’t the last time they’d share a meal.
As they stepped out of the diner, the night air hit them with a crisp chill, a stark contrast to the warmth of the meal settling in Julien’s stomach. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck before instinctively glancing down the street. The glowing sign of Le Ciel flickered in the distance, the restaurant still alive with movement. “They’re gonna be pissed,” he muttered, more to himself than to Kobi. She barely spared the restaurant a glance, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets. “They’ll be groveling at your feet by morning,” she said with a dismissive snort. Julien huffed but didn’t argue. As much as he wanted to dispute it, the truth was… she wasn’t wrong.
They fell into step beside each other, the quiet hum of the city filling the space between them. Julien still couldn’t quite understand how they got here, how they went from barely tolerating each other to this—whatever this was. Then Kobi spoke up again. “You should come over.” Julien turned his head sharply. “What?” She shrugged. “My place,” she clarified, her tone casual—too casual. “Figured you could use a proper night’s sleep.” His brows knitted together, suspicion creeping into his expression. “Why?” Kobi rolled her eyes, feigning exasperation. “Because somebody has to nurse that stomach ache of yours. And, well…” She shrugged. “Thought maybe you could use some company.”
Julien studied her for a beat, searching for an ulterior motive. But there was no smug amusement in her voice, no teasing glint in her eyes—just an easy sort of honesty that made something shift uncomfortably in his chest. He wasn’t sure what to say to that. But before he could overthink it, his stomach gave a soft, residual gurgle—nothing painful, but just enough for Kobi’s lips to twitch into a smirk. “See? You’re still a mess.” She nudged him lightly. “Come on. Let’s go.” And for once, Julien didn’t fight her on it.
