Renjun was thinking about getting a job.
He happened to be an overenthusiastic buyer, as he had discovered in dismay when he had checked his wallet and was short of money to pay for things like art supplies, nice jumpers, Timberlands and other necessities. He could have asked his parents for supplementary funds, but every time he considered doing that he felt spoiled and bratty.
He also wanted to get Jeno's birthday gift with his own money, because the sentiment was admirable and Renjun wished to actually earn all the happiness he wanted to give Jeno. (That was mostly the reason he started looking for one.)
So when Jeno himself mentioned to him that the restaurant his brother worked as a chef at had two open slots for waiters, he told Jeno to tell Jihoon that he would be signing up to fill one of them.
Jihoon had texted Renjun himself, a day before he'd actually gotten the email confirming his employment.
jihoon: hey so i may have gotten you the job but it was only bc all the other ppl would be lucky to be half as smart as you. anyway if you screw this up i will be the one getting a pay cut so don't. screw. it. up.
=
Renjun was jittery as he strolled down to Empathy Restaurant on Sunday evening. The wind was shaking the new leaves on the branches, and the sky was as clear as he had seen it in days, the stars winking down at the world — a pleasant night, but he was nervous, nervous, nervous. The shift he had chosen to work was rather late; 8 pm – 11 pm on Sundays. He had only chosen this because it paid the best, being the busiest hours. On a Sunday night, the place was pretty much packed with people, and Renjun hoped that it would be worth it in the end.
He was also worried about how he had chosen to get home so late. His parents couldn't pick him up, no friend of his was that dedicated (well, other than Jeno, who unfortunately didn't have a car), and he didn't have a driving license. He could walk home, as it wasn't that far away, but that wasn't safe. He also wasn't up for walking alone, in the dark. So he was taking a public bus, even though he had never actually taken a bus anywhere.
He shook off these thoughts as he went around the sleek building to the employee entrance, remembering that he had more pressing issues to focus on, such as his first-ever job. He stood in front of the door, rubbing his hands together, his mouth pressed into a tight line. He stretched his fingers out towards the doorknob, then pulled them back again, gnawing on his lip.
"Nervous for the first day?"
Renjun started and, to his horror, released a little squeak of fright. The voice sounded so familiar he was scared to look.
He swallowed, turning slowly on the balls of his feet, only to see Na Jaemin regarding him with a dopey grin from a few feet off. Renjun gradually turned pink, realising that his crush had seen him actually squeak. He never squeaked. "I — I swear I'm not like this all the time!" He sighed inwardly in disappointment when he realised what he had just said in the place of an actual greeting.
Jaemin just let a laugh bubble through his lips and answered, "Whatever you say, Renjun. Are you here for the other job?" He put his hand in his pocket and strode up to the door, all white blouse and toothy smile.
Renjun didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded in affirmation, trying to compute what was happening. So Jaemin was the other new waiter? That made things a lot more favourable, and nerve-wracking.
Jaemin blew a tired raspberry and turned to look at Renjun, his hand on the knob. "I'm nervous too, so don't worry, you're not alone."
Renjun let himself smile, unable to help himself commenting, "You don't look nervous at all."
Jaemin shook his head, a serious look overcoming his happy-go-lucky demeanour, "I'll let you in on a secret. I'm a fake bitch, and if I hadn't gone to the toilet before I came here I would have pissed myself by now."
Renjun followed his snort with a cough and hesitated inwardly before putting his hand on Jaemin's shoulder. It's a friendly enough gesture, it's not like I can channel all my gayness through this. "That makes two of us. Hopefully, we won't soil ourselves on the first day of work."
Jaemin nodded, "Cheers." He then pushed the door open and they turned and walked into the building one after the other (Renjun was embarrassingly happy that Jaemin had let him go first). They found themselves in the bustling kitchen. Renjun felt a hand brush his own and looked around to see Jaemin gesturing to a little room off to the side. They deposited their things with the other employees' possessions and left the kitchen to find the bar, as they had been told to go there first in an email they had received confirming their employment.
They went up to the counter on the side, lined with glasses for drinks, but unlike what had been mentioned in the email, there was no one there to tell them what to do. Renjun started when there was a sort of frenzied clinking sound from below him — then, all too suddenly, a head of grey hair and a grin popped up right in front of him from behind the counter. Renjun stumbled back to avoid headbutting him, bumping into Jaemin, who grabbed his shoulders and held him steady.
The grey-haired young man smiled at them. "Hi! You guys must be the new employees, right?" They weren't even given a chance to do more than nod before he was talking again. Renjun swallowed, still leaning against Jaemin's side, the boy's hands on his shoulders. Please keep talking. God, please don't shut up, you strange bartender.
"Welcome! My name's Kim Jungwoo."
Jaemin nodded again, then quickly pulled Renjun upright and grinned at him again, the absence of his warm fingers and the bright smile making Renjun feel hot and cold all over, like he was going to have a stroke. He blinked, hard, turning back to Jungwoo and trying to at least seem like he was paying attention
"You two must be Huang Renjun and Na Jaemin." This man spoke like he was twenty minutes late to a meeting, but was actually quite happy about it. "You are actually two minutes early! Which means you are currently free! So..." Jungwoo stopped talking to then double over and begin to push something around to the door that led out of the bar. Jaemin and Renjun watched in dull confusion as a huge, clear, plastic container of liquid presented itself to them.
"If you could please use those spare two minutes to please carry something over to the kitchen for me, that would be amazing."
"You want us —" Jaemin pointed to himself and Renjun, "to carry that gigantic bottle of water —" He pointed to the container now gleaming menacingly under the overhead lights, "— all the way there?" He finished off by gesturing to the kitchen situated all the way across the rather spacey room.
Jungwoo nodded, his fringe flopping around almost playfully. "Yep! Think of it as a test — if you can't carry this across the room, how will you carry dishes? Also, it's not water, it's vodka." Neither of the new waiters had enough time to comment on this. "When you get there, go find Jihoon — he's the teeny, cute, angry one —" He held a hand up somewhere around his waist, indicating the subject's height, "He will tell you what to do from there. Good luck!" Then Jungwoo looked at them expectantly, as if they were to leave.
"Thanks." Renjun called out, decided against telling Jungwoo that this was hardly practice for carrying dishes — the heaviest thing they'd be carrying would be a big bowl of soup. The bartender had already disappeared back underneath the counter.
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.
***