three is the perfect number || jaenoren (norenmin)

quatre

Jaemin shook out his arms and turned to Renjun. "Well then, teammate! Let's pummel this motherfucker, it shouldn't take more than two minutes." Renjun nodded sagely and pulled up his sleeves.

=

It took them longer than two minutes. They tried to carry the container the first ten feet but then ended up dragging it the rest of the way, trying to avoid bumping into any other waiters bringing food to diners.

When they finally reached the door to the kitchen, they wasted no time in pushing it open and hefting it to the side. Jaemin caught his breath while Renjun scanned the room for Jihoon. Renjun sighed in relief when some extremely tall waiter moved aside ("Johnny", by his name tag. How strange), and a rather tall chef hat came into view, nestled atop the head of Lee Jihoon. Renjun pointed him out to Jaemin, who sighed and stood up, making a show of cracking his back and making Renjun snort. "Come on, ajeossi, just a little further."

They skittered over to Jihoon's table, unable to find sense in the rhythm of bustling waiters and chefs. Jihoon spotted them when Renjun nearly tripped up a guy named Dean, making him almost drop an expensive-looking dessert. Dean just accepted his apology gracefully and left like nothing had happened. 

Jihoon beckoned the very embarrassed Renjun and hysterical Jaemin over to his station. "Hi, Renjun. And this would be Na Jaemin?" Jihoon wiped his hands on a cloth after putting his knife down, raising his eyebrows expectantly at the latter. 

Jaemin looked at Renjun, then just nodded, apparently a bit scared of the man — which was no surprise. Jihoon's gazes could cut a man that no knife could touch. 

Jihoon looked at Renjun, "Is he your friend?" 

Renjun blushed, "Well—" 

"Well, yeah. I am." Jaemin nodded, and Renjun felt his heart skid. He called me his friend, he thought in awe. With so much conviction — that's hot.

Shut up, Renjun.

Jihoon then took off his still noticeably tall chef hat (maybe it recognised him as the alpha chef?), then spent a good few minutes explaining the workings of the restaurant to the new employees, how to take orders, how the tables were organised, any shortcuts they could use to take orders more efficiently, any other relevant information. Renjun forced himself to pay attention, because this was important information, maybe even more important than the fact Jaemin's knuckles brushed his every once in a while. 

=

The next few hours were a blur of scribbling down orders, explaining their writing to chefs, tired feet and heavy platters of various dishes. Unfortunately, Renjun barely even got to talk to Jaemin, but when they did, Jaemin often made a pun about anything, and Renjun would berate him for it until vats of soup were shoved in their faces and they needed to get their asses moving.

The last half hour, Renjun was just hovering by tables, refilling jugs and fetching sauces wherever they were needed, the restaurant beginning to calm down as people remembered tomorrow was Monday.

Renjun was then summoned to where Jungwoo was standing behind the bar, talking to Jaemin smilingly. He walked over warily, hoping that this didn't have anything to do with vodka. He would surely collapse. Jungwoo saw him arrive, put down the spotless glass he was cleaning and smiled. "It's eleven now, you can head out." The two employees perked up as Jungwoo continued, "Get your things and go home, great first day." Jaemin clapped nonsensically, and Renjun felt like melting for some stupid reason. 

"Hey, Renjun, you good? Your face is red," Renjun jumped at Jaemin's question and fanned himself frantically. "I'm just really hot, that's all. In the warm way."

They headed to the room in kitchen to grab their phones and other possessions, talking idly about the tiring shift all the while. 

"I don't think I will ever look at a big pot of soup the same way after this job," Renjun referred tiredly. 

"Are you serious? I was asked to carry a platter of garlic bread to table 12, still steaming and with butter on and shit. I was about to cry — I almost took one, actually." 

"Jaemin, that's got to be illegal or something."

Jaemin just laughed, picking up his jacket and draping it over his arm, choosing not to put it on. 

Renjun grabbed his own as well, checking the time on his phone and wincing, sorry to end their time together. "Ah, I should probably get going, I'm gonna miss my bus."

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. "You're getting the bus? At this hour?"

Renjun looked at him strangely, "Well, yeah. I've never really gotten it before, but it can't be that bad —" 

"You shouldn't."

Renjun stopped with his hand on the knob of the door leading out of the staffroom. "Why?"

Jaemin shook his head, "The kind of people on buses at this hour on this side of town are pretty sketchy, Jun." Renjun begged his heart to ignore the nickname.

"Sketchy? In what way?" Jaemin shrugged, and walked up to him at the door, "A guy like you is gonna be hit on, I'm 90% sure of that."

"Hit on? Come on, Jaemin, who in hell would waste their time hitting on—" 

"Who wouldn't?" Jaemin's cheeks flushed as he realised what he had just said, and he shook his head like he was shaking water out of his ears, "I didn't mean — I don't—" He took a deep breath. "I mean, I don't want you getting hit on, so listen. How about I drop you home?"

"Okay, you — you what?" Renjun blinked absently at him, trying to comprehend his suggestion. 

"I, Na Jaemin, will drop your pretty ass home. I have a car, I don't mind how long it takes." 

Renjun closed his own mouth, arguing with his many personalities. More time with Jaemin? Sure. But he didn't want to bother him at all. What if he was just annoying and Jaemin felt obliged to do this because Renjun was imposing on him? And what if — 

"Okay, just giving you a heads up, Renjun, I'm kind of not taking no for an answer. So either I carry you outta here and dump you in my car or you follow me and we seat ourselves in it like normal people."

Renjun had a sudden vision of Jaemin carrying him bridal style and decided that his heart could use a break. "F—fine, then. Thanks," he stumbled, trying to keep the apprehension out of his voice. 

Jaemin grinned, satisfied, and opened the door, gesturing grandly for Renjun to leave, "Ladies first."

"Shut up," he shot back, his smile almost splitting his face. 

***