Chapter Text
Three practically screeched into the parking lot on two wheels. He and his roommate Two were both running late for their afternoon shift bartending together at the local pub. He threw it in park and made a dash for the back door, avoiding the eyes of early bird customers already waiting in their cars for the doors to open at noon. As he made his way through the bar, he found himself on autopilot, flipping on countless lights and neon signs with the practiced speed of someone who had worked this day shift for years but was hardly ever on time for it.
Two, on the other hand, was almost never late, but Three supposed their previous 4 nights closing down the pub together had caught up to his friend. Some of those evenings entailed working the late shift past 2 am, while other times the hours simply got away from them when they had cold drinks in their hand and good company. He willed Two to hurry up and clock in—they had a list of duties to get through in order to start their day, and it was already a couple minutes past noon. As he finished counting up the money in their till, he cursed himself and his bad habit of snoozing his alarm.
Three ducked under the service bar and jogged around it to go prop the front door, turning the sign around to read OPEN. He then headed to the back storage room to scoop out a couple buckets of ice, and smirked to himself when he had them slid under the bar and was back behind his well before any patrons had even hit their stools.
Oh, they were sure filing in though. Fridays were usually the busiest day shift at Eden’s End and it already seemed to be trending that way. He watched as a few small groups situated themselves around the bar, and greeted them each by name and with a grin. Eden’s had been a neighborhood staple for over 50 years, and was a second home to so many. There were more afternoon regulars than one could count, from working class people to old friends that habitually met in the same place daily. His current crowd was some of his favorite construction working fellows on their lunch break, and some older retired folks gathering to begin their usual day drinking.
Three was always proud to know each customer’s name and drink of choice by heart, and set to work pouring all their pints of beer and glasses of cheap wine without prompting. He knew he was popular with everyone, always making an effort to give individual attention to each guest, talk with them, and make them laugh at his antics with Two. He was surprised how quickly he made true friends with the customers here when he first started out, because he stood out among this mostly older crowd and was never sure if they’d fully accept him. He could be awkward, and chaotic, and too loud, but that didn’t seem to phase anybody, which was good, because he couldn’t exactly pretend to turn this part of his personality off anyway. Just like any other day, he now loomed tall behind the pine in his eccentric punk attire—a band tee, plus patches, chains and pins fixed to his tight plaid pants, with his mop of dyed fiery red hair hanging in his face. And sure enough, everyone was happy to see him, asking about his week, and thanking him genuinely when he set down their glass.
With all the drinks served up and patrons left to review their lunch menus, Three was making his way to set up his well and cut fruit for the day. He glanced up as the bell above the door chimed again, and spotted a customer who he’d never seen come shuffling in. Three stopped in his tracks when he got a look at the guy.
It wasn’t like Eden’s End was such a hole in the wall that they never saw unfamiliar faces. It had become an increasingly popular place in the last few years, and strangers would occasionally stop in along their travels or on a local friend’s recommendation, sure. It was definitely more common to meet new people during the night shift when it got busier, with the younger crowd of uni students and pub crawlers looking for the latest place still serving.
Three was just caught off guard, is all. He was just not expecting to go half blind, staring at the hottest stranger he had ever seen, strolling into his pub, looking a little lost and a lot like he could be Three’s next mistake. And certainly Three was not prepared for his flood of unholy thoughts before he could even have a sip of his coffee, Jesus Christ.
New Guy took a look around at the dingy old pub as he entered, plopping himself into a stool right in front of Three’s service well, exactly where Three had now decided he’d no longer be able to get any work done. Three shook himself into remembering his goddamned manners and customer service training, and called out a too-loud and too-formal, “Good afternoon, welcome in!” while he tried to regain some composure.
Unfortunately it seemed there would be no composure to regain, because Three was now getting a closer look at the man as he approached to serve him. The man had a face full of glinting metal piercings and the coolest choppy punk haircut, fully shaved down on one side and coming to a shaggy, long point down the other side of his face. When he looked up at Three, New Guy tossed his head so the hair came out of his eyes, crystal blue and turned down in a way that made him look so moody and sad. He shed his leather jacket adorned with patches and spikes as he made himself comfortable in the space, while Three came to a stop in front of him. His now revealed arms were full of colorful tattoos that Three wanted to stare at for approximately ever.
“Hey there. Could I get you something to drink? Or a moment to decide?” Three managed a normal greeting even as the cute punk got impossibly cuter with a polite smile.
“Hey yeah, could I get a whisky and whatever light pint you’d recommend? Please.” Three nodded and turned to prepare the beverages and tripped right over Two, short as ever, who had silently snuck in behind him.
“Holy…fuck,” Three began, startled out of his love-struck stupor. He steadied Two by the shoulders. “You vertically challenged absolute hobbit, where the fuck did you come from.” Two raised an unamused eyebrow at Three, peering behind him to see where the giggling was coming from at his expense. Three didn’t look back but was glad his crush of the day at least could appreciate his sense of humor.
Three continued on to hand over the man’s drinks while Two checked on their groups of regulars and took food orders. Once he’d taken a long swig of beer, New Guy buried himself in his phone, tapping away. Three was never usually anything other than outgoing, but he knew he’d better leave the guy to it, as curious as he was. He really didn’t want to say anything stupid or scare him off. He found himself relieved to have something else to focus on when Two took charge as usual and divvied up their remaining opening tasks. More regulars poured into the pub and it got busy into the late afternoon, where Three could run circles serving the tables in his too-tight jeans, show off carrying heavy kegs, make more loud jokes, and avoid eye contact with the one he hoped was watching as he worked.