Chapter Text
The first time Even sees him, he doesn’t think much of it. In fact, the moment barely registers as a moment . It’s really just a passing in the upstairs hallway, a tight-lipped exchange of smiles, and then Even goes on to start his day, forgetting the small greeting among the hundreds he has during his shift as the store gets busy.
Even has worked at the supermarket for over a year now. He had meant to move on quite a few months ago, to university classes or a job that could lead him into a career, but instead he’s still here, memorizing produce codes and bagging groceries.
He both hates and loves working on the customer service team. He knows he’s good with people, with upselling or making customers feel heard when they’re in the mood to share their life story with him as he rings up their groceries. But it can be so draining. After an all day shift he barely has the energy to keep up dinner conversation with his parents. It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t have any friends to drag him out on nights after work. Even’s all about looking for the positives these days.
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It's a month later when Even actually takes notice of him. It’s the end of his shift, and for once he’s glad that he’s been here all day, because it’s almost 16:00 and now no one can question his choice to go home and immediately get into bed. It’s January, and the short days have been getting to him. Even’s walking to the back of the store to clock out when he spots someone laying on the floor in the candy aisle.
He panics for a second. Did they pass out? He does not feel equipped to deal with this. He stops mid-freak out to remind himself to tell management that they really need to consider training for potential medical emergencies. He moves closer and—oh. He recognizes the blonde curly hair from someone in the grocery department. Then he notices the guy’s hand feeling for something under the shelves. Even breathes a sigh of relief. Just an employee going about their day, not a customer mid-stroke, thank god.
Even keeps walking down the aisle, ready to get out from under the fluorescent lights and into the last vestiges of sun the day has to offer. He’s tiptoeing past the grocery guy when he suddenly grabs onto something, yells “Fuck yes!” and jumps to his feet to come face to face with Even.
They stare at each other for a second, and Even can’t help but smile. Because Grocery Guy has really nice eyes. And his hair is messed up from lying on the ground, but it’s all curly and golden and Even, for once, has no idea what to say. All he can think is that he never noticed that when the sun gets low in the sky, it shines through the big front windows of the store and bathes the candy aisle in a light so warm that it makes tired-looking grocery guys look like angels.
The guy gives Even a nod, opens his mouth and it feels like whatever he’s about to say will change Even’s whole world.
He turns his head towards the end of the aisle where another employee is stocking cookies, and yells, “Mahdi! Found my box cutter, asshole. Hide it better next time.” The other employee lets out a laugh, and Grocery Guy turns his back to Even and starts cutting open his candy boxes.
Even looks around. The afternoon light has faded, and customers maneuver around him while he stares at Grocery Guy’s back for a beat too long. It’s a really good back.
So. Not really a life-changing sentence, then. Even shakes himself, and continues on, trying to tamp down the weird things he’s feeling. Who the hell was that? Even wants to know him. Biblically. And emotionally. And literally. He’ll take whatever he can get; all he can think now is he’s never been more excited to come into work tomorrow.
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After that fateful January day, it’s like a game for Even. He walks into the store for his shifts, looks around surreptitiously for that blonde halo of hair, usually accompanied by a sweatshirt or a flannel, tied off with the ugly blue aprons all employees have to wear. If he spots Grocery Guy on the way in, he allows himself to call that day a Good Day™. No matter what happens that day, at least he saw a beautiful face, and that makes it good.
On the dark days when he doesn’t spot Grocery Guy, he doesn’t let himself wallow. Instead he throws himself into what he calls his “hospitality personality” and tries to give people the best supermarket experience he possibly can. It might just be a random shopping trip for them, but Even knows that even the smallest of gestures can mean the world if someone’s looking for comfort.
The day Even learns Grocery Guy’s name is a Good Day™. He got a full on smile from Grocery Guy as he walked in the door, and now that Even is on register he has the perfect view to watch him stock the Kombucha refrigerator.
Even is stationed next to Jonas, a newer worker who seems to hate everything the supermarket stands for. Even likes listening to him rant about the bloated corporation they are employed by, how their high-priced produce and low-priced junk food are killing their consumers. He doesn’t always understand what Jonas is on about, but he appreciates people who express their viewpoints with such passion. He’s been longing to find that again.
Jonas’ issue of the day is the ever-increasing number of grocery delivery apps and something about disposable work forces. Even has effectively tuned him out to stare at Grocery Guy’s arms as he moves boxes around. He’s glad it’s a slow day.
Even doesn’t realize that Jonas has stopped his rant until he sees him sneak up behind Grocery Guy and grab him by the shoulders, startling him into dropping the box of Kombucha he’s holding. The open box spills to the floor, glass and pungent smelling Kombucha soon flooding the aisle.
Even groans and runs to get cleaning supplies before all the broken glass becomes a hazard. When he comes back, he sees one of the managers lecturing Grocery Guy about being a “fucking idiot” and the dangers of “horsing around at work”. But neither Jonas nor Grocery Guy seem to be listening very closely, as it’s clear they’re trying not to laugh.
They must be pretty close, then. Even tries not to feel jealous, and his train of thought is cut short as Grocery Guy grabs the supplies out of his hands and says with a nod, “Thanks, man. I can take it from here.” He turns to Jonas and adds, “You guys should get back to your registers before we all get written up.”
Jonas has the good grace to look a little bit sheepish as he leads Even back to their posts where customers are waiting impatiently.
Even spends the next few hours mulling over their brief interaction. Grocery Guy has never spoken to Even directly before. He can’t stop smiling about it, but he also can’t help but want more.
Even and Jonas are clocking out at the same time, and Even has to work up some courage to talk about the events of a few hours ago.
“I hope the guy from grocery forgives you for getting him into trouble,” Even starts.
“Who, Isak? Yeah, he’s the best,” Jonas responds with a laugh. “He’ll probably get me back soon for that.”
“Isak?” Even tries to keep his face neutral as they head out of the employee entrance in the back of the store.
“Oh yeah, the guy who dropped the stuff. He’s chill.”
“Oh, didn’t know his name. Are you guys friends?” Even feels weird, trying to scrape up any details he can about Grocery Guy, or should he say, Isak.
Jonas laughs again. “Best friends. We’ve known each other since we were like, ten or something. He got me the job here.”
Friends. Friends is good. Even wants to ask more, but they’ve arrived at the tram stop and he’s still conscious about being seen as a stalker. So he says bye to Jonas, and all the way home he thinks about a name like Isak, and how “Isak and Even” has kind of a nice ring to it.
-----
The thing about Even is that his life is currently at a standstill. His mom calls it a “transitional period.” But seeing as it’s been over a year since he dropped out of university, Even is pretty sure a “transition” shouldn’t take this long.
He’d had his “hard times” (mom-speak for that time he tried to kill himself) but still managed to finish up his third year after retaking a few exams. But he was so eager to be okay and move on, so by the next fall he had jetted off to Trondheim to start again at his first year of university.
And by the end of May Even had crashed again. Not nearly as bad as the year before, but enough for him to fail all his classes and get suspended for his academic performance.
By that point he needed no convincing from his parents to take some time off to work on his mental health.
So Even took the best paying job he could with a barely completed high school degree, a cashier at a grocery store a few tram stops away from his house. And he’s still here.
He keeps meaning to look into taking uni classes, at least part time, but something keeps holding him back.
He still texts with the boys, but most of them are spread around the country at various jobs and universities at this point. Yousef is still around, but the times they hang out are few and far between. Even knows that’s his own fault.
The gist is that Even leads a very plain and boring life now. And while a lot of the time he likes his new normal, likes the time spent with his parents, likes the days when he has no plans and can go lay in the park for 3 hours and listen to music, he also gets quite lonely.
So when he sees people around his age who are so full of life, who wear their emotions, good or bad, on their sleeves, he feels an admiration for them for not giving up. For continuing to feel, and show people how they feel, even when this world fucking sucks. Even is trying to remember how to do all that.
Isak is one of those people. Whether he’s in a heated debate with a coworker, helping out a customer, even doing inventory, the attention he seems to give his actions is so apparent and direct. Even wants to be someone Isak gives his full attention to, if just for a few minutes.
-----
Even wouldn’t call Jonas a friend, per se, but he does consider him to be a work buddy. If Even were a braver man, he would go out of his way to move from work buddy to actual real-life friend, but he’s been out of practice.
Once upon a time Even was considered cool by some standards. He knew what to say, when to laugh, how to make people feel comfortable. But then he grew up, and life hit him harder than he ever thought it would. On days when Even is feeling more bitter about the world, he considers the fact that he probably peaked in high school.
He remembers the excitement he used to feel when he knew he had made a new friend, even during his stint in Trondheim when he was determined to fake his way into being okay.
He’s honest with himself now, with his therapist, psychiatrist, his parents, but he’s yet to really try living as this new, more authentic Even. He’d spent so long ignoring the harder parts of himself, his bipolar, his sexuality, that it’s taken some work to accept them as part of his identity.
But now Even almost feels like he doesn’t know how to act with new people. He wants to wear a sign saying, “I’m Even, university drop-out, bipolar, pansexual, formerly suicidal, desperate for some friends,” just to get the awkward emotional baggage stuff out of the way.
But such a sign does not exist, so one day during a slow hour when Jonas asks him what he likes to do outside of work, all Even can think to say is, “Oh, I just chill with friends, watch Netflix, you know. I’m thinking about re-enrolling in uni.” Technically none of that is a lie.
As long as chilling with friends counts as running into Sonja and her boyfriend last month and somehow agreeing to a lunch filled with very stilted conversation. Her boyfriend was actually very cool, and Even briefly considered asking him to hang out again if it weren’t for the fact that Sonja would have had his head.
So here Even is, desperately wanting to turn to Jonas in between customers and yell, “Let me be your friend! I swear I can be cool once I calm down!” But he doesn’t, so Jonas remains firmly in the work buddy category.
-----
It’s April now, and Isak has been at the center of Even’s daydreams for the past three months. The longest conversation they’ve had lasted maybe 45 seconds, though Even could replay it over and over for a millennia.
Even’s mom had been begging him to get her some oat milk, as she had heard from her colleagues that, “it’s the best milk substitute there is!” Not one to deny his mother anything, he went in search of it after a shift one day.
He could have just checked the dairy section. But Isak was walking around the store with a clipboard, checking things off a list and looking all cute and professional, and Even just couldn’t help himself.
So he approached and pretended to forget the layout of their own store, but luckily Isak was all too happy to help him. He grinned when Even explained his confusion about alternative milk trends, and then quickly launched into a pro’s and con’s list of all the milks the store carried. Truly one of the most exciting conversations Even has had in a long time.
Over the past few weeks Even has stuck to the same script, forgetting where something in the store is or acting confused about which products are organic, and Isak will always drop whatever he’s doing to listen to Even’s questions. The problem is that now Even can’t seem to veer the topic onto something not food or supermarket related.
It’s exhausting, and he’s on the verge of asking his therapist for guy advice. He could text the boys, but Even hasn’t sent anything more substantial than a meme in the groupchat for the last few months, so he feels like it’s no longer an option.
One day the store has a fire drill, and Even spends five minutes delaying his exit just to walk out right behind Isak.
Yes, Isak’s back is really nice to look at, but Even does have to consider that had it been a real fire, he would have died just because he’s horny. Things are truly getting out of hand.
-----
Even is late for dinner. This is not an unusual occurrence, but today being his dad’s birthday, it’s a bit of a problem. He’d procrastinated until today when it came to getting a gift, so he’d ended up with the most medium-priced brightly colored tie he could find at a store in the city.
His dad will say he loves it, wear it once, and promptly forget about it in the back of his closet. A perfect gift.
Even was pleased with how efficient his tie-picking was, but of course he then got distracted at the new stationery boutique when he was picking out a card to go with it. He’d ended up grabbing a few funny postcards that he knows the boys would love, if he ever bothers putting them in the mail.
But now Even is ten minutes late and currently ignoring the three texts from his mom asking him where he is. He decides to take a shortcut through a park he frequents to save time.
Even smells the weed before he sees the person smoking it. His old dealer had been more Sonja’s friend than his, so when that ended so did his weekly bowl.
He’d been too lazy to find someone new, especially considering the potential health concerns. But now the acrid smell brings him back to the days of hiding in basements at parties with old friends or new, every sensation both amplified and muted, all at once.
It’s Isak smoking the joint, because of course it is. He’s sitting on top of a picnic table just off the park path, backlit by the setting sun. Even slows his walk, and considers his situation.
Isak does not look happy. The bags under his eyes are more pronounced than usual. His hand shakes as he brings the joint to his lips and he just looks so sad and thoughtful. Even feels as though he is intruding on a very personal moment. And although Isak hasn’t seen him yet, if he doubles back now it’ll add at least five more minutes to the walk.
He soldiers on, walking briskly past the table, trying not to make eye contact. Isak doesn’t even seem to register someone else being near him. Even feels a weird sense of disappointment that he wasn’t noticed, but he can mull over the moment after dinner.
He’s just passed by the table when he hears a faint “Hey.” It’s just a word, but it sounds so soft coming from Isak. So he stops, turns, and returns the greeting.
Isak lets out a sigh. Runs a hand over his face. “You work at the grocery, right?”
“Yeah. You’re… Isak, is it?” Even tries to tamp down the excitement of being recognized.
“Isak Valtersen. That’s me. What’s your name?”
“Even. Bech Næsheim.”
Isak gives him a small smile, and puts out his free hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Even.” He takes another drag, and then offers it out to Even. “You want some?”
Even can’t help but let out a laugh. He feels like he’s in one of those cheesy ads targeted at teens to prevent drug use. Don’t be tempted by the hot guy offering you funny cigarettes! Your parents are waiting for you. “No, I would, but I’m about to see my parents, so…”
Isak grunts in understanding. “Next time.”
“Next time.” Even feels like his heart is about to burst, but Isak’s face gets sad again as he stares back out into the park. “Hey, are you- are you good?”
Isak looks surprised. “Oh, just. A long day. Lots of stress with school and work, and- you know.”
“Yeah, that sucks.” Fuck. Even gets so fucking tongue-tied around this guy. He’s about to do something absurd like invite him to dinner, when thankfully, Isak continues.
“Can I say something that might sound kind of shitty?” Isak asks with a rueful grin.
“Of course.”
“I just fucking hate people sometimes. I think I want to go join a monastery or some shit. So nobody will talk to me or bother me with anything.”
“God, I thought you were going to call me ugly or something. You think that’s a shitty thing to think? I think something like that every day,” Even is laughing now, and after a second Isak gives his second genuine smile of the night. “Especially when I’m at work.”
“You? But you’re the best with customers!” Isak responds, shocked. “Jonas told me management literally based their training on how to be more like you for customer complaints and shit.”
Even groans. “I know how to talk to angry people, I guess. But it doesn’t mean I like it. It’s just a skill. Like being really fast at stocking cans or something.”
“Not the same.”
“Okay, a little different. But here’s a reminder that might make you feel better. If you ever see me smiling while a customer yells at me, just know I’m picturing myself ramming a line of carts into their car.”
Isak tilts his head back in laughter. It’s such a nice sound. “I’ll remember that.”
Even is about to continue when he’s interrupted by his phone. It’s his mom, and with that, he’s brought back down to earth. “I should really go.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, didn’t mean to keep you.”
“No! You didn’t.” How does Even keep putting his foot in his mouth? “It’s just my dad’s fiftieth birthday, and my mom is stressed, so. And I’m really late.”
Isak nods. “I get it.”
“It was worth it though. Are you sure you’re gonna be ok?”
Isak looks shy as he smiles into his hand. “Yeah, I feel better now. Thanks, Even.”
He wants to stare at that smile forever, but he knows it’s time to go. So he reaches out, gives Isak a squeeze on the shoulder. And then he walks away before he can think about how strong Isak’s back felt under his shirt, or why the fuck he touched him in the first place.