Work Text:
Oka finishes stocking the bottommost shelf and groans as he rises from his crouched position. With another sigh, he rubs his lower back. I’m getting too old for this, he thinks to himself. Well, not too, too old, but too old to be stocking shelves like its his first job. That’s why he hired two part-timers. He huffs, but, of course, Reki and Langa were no where to be found. They’re probably somewhere practicing with their skateboards. Honestly, Oka thought that at least he could get a good worker out of Langa. Obviously, Reki has been an influence on the foreigner in more ways than one. Again, today, the two teens didn't show up for work when it was time to close Dope Sketch. It would’ve taken him hours to close by himself, but he was lucky you came by when you did.
Oka lifts a few boxes with another groan and takes them over to the front counter. You’re currently at the other side of the skate shop, restocking shirts and organizing hangers.
“What’s wrong, old man?” you ask teasingly, “I hear a lot of grunting and groaning over there.”
“I’m not old,” he sighs with exasperation, “We’re like the same age.”
“Yeah, but I don’t walk around moaning like my bones are about to turn into dust.”
“My back hurts because I work too much. I have two part-timers who’re supposed to be doing this, you know,” he says as he rests his elbows on the counter, “Hey, thanks for helping out by the way. I would’ve been here for god knows how long without an extra set of hands.”
“I just came over to borrow some tools,” you tell him, “but, now that I’ve done all this work, you’re going to come over and help me fix it. Right?”
Oka nods, leaning back to stretch his aching muscles. With a chuckle, he asks, “You were going to fix something? Yeah, right. What did you break this time?”
“I didn’t break anything. The stupid toaster broke on me,” you grumble, gripping a hanger so tightly it starts to bend under the pressure of your hands.
“Woah, woah, take it easy, you menace. I can’t go fixing everything you break.”
You suck your teeth, “Shut up.”
You bring your your emptied box over to him, and he takes it into the back room with the rest of the cardboard that would be tossed out tomorrow morning. You wait for the manager to remember from the lime green door he disappeared behind. A loud, annoyed groan leaves your body as you toss your head back.
“Oka! Hurry up!”
The manager reemerges from the storage room with his small fennec fox snuggled into his messy coffee-colored hair and few more boxes in his hands. Oka looks at you with kind hazel eyes, then smiles. You blush and avoid his gaze.
“Okay, okay, here I am. We only have a few more things to do. You restock the hats and helmets, then handle the cash out. I’m going to finish up the putting the safety gear away, and I’ll start sweeping after. Then we’re done.”
“Fine,” you say, taking your designated boxes, “I’m so ready to be done. I wanted to be eating pop tarts an hour and a half ago.”
Both of you move to different sides of the store and start on your tasks.
“You know, you’re always complaining about those kids. If they’re such a pain, why not just fire them?”
“They’re not bad guys. When I was their age, I was just like them spending all my time at skate parks. I didn’t want to go to work either. I haven’t known Langa for that long, but, from what I can tell, he’s an earnest worker. He got an ollie down in just two weeks. He wouldn’t have been able to do that if he was lazy. Reki … well, Reki is Reki, but he’s disciplined and talented in his own way.”
“Geez, you really are an old man, Oka. You sound like a grandpa reminiscing about his grandkids.”
“Oh, shut it. I just think they’re good kids alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
The two of you fall silent but continue working. It was actually kind of cute watching Oka as he talked fondly about his slacker part-timers. His kindness always amazes you. He likes to find the good in people. He liked betting on the underdogs when he could. Oka is the type of person who hires a dumb kid on the sight because he knows he needs the money. He was one of the few humans left on who still believed in people. You admired him for that optimism.
You finish organizing the headwear in Dope Sketch and head over to the front counter. Taking a seat behind the register, you open the drawer and begin to go to work. When Oka walks past you to enter the back room again, his small pet leaps from his head. It lands on the counter gracefully then bounds up to you. It cocks its head to the side curiously, looking up at you with big, brown eyes. You smile and stroke the little fox behind it’s incredibly large ears. It purrs with delight.
“She likes you,” you hear Oka say from over your shoulder.
“I know. I mean what’s not to like?”
Oka chuckles and starts sweeping; you also return to work, counting cash and punching numbers into a calculator. Even though you were joking, Oka thought it to be true. There’s a lot to like about you. There’s a lot he likes about you. He likes your smart mouth, your witty tongue, and your bold lips. He likes hearing you talk, but there are times where he wishes he could shut you up with a kiss. Oka likes how beautiful and strong you are, too. And, even though it’s a bit chauvinistic, he likes how you need him. Even before Oka really befriended you, you would frequently knock on his door with a broken appliance in your hands. His skills in skateboard repairs made him quite handy, and he was thankful for that because it brought you around on a regular basis. You’ve been neighbors for around two years, and, thanks to your proclivity for breaking things, you’ve forged a close bond.
A few minutes of diligent work passes by, and you finally scribble down a final number. Tearing the page from the notepad, you stack all the cash from the register and place the total along side. You slip the money into an envelope and hand it to Oka. He takes it, along with the broom, into the back room. You stand and collect your things.
“Ugh, Oka, come on!” you whine.
Oka comes back out and locks the door behind him. There’s a brown bag slung over his shoulder and a red tool box in one hand. He extends his hand; without a command, the small orange fennec fox trots up his arm and climbs onto his head. It ruffles his hair as it makes a small bed for itself, then it lays down, comfortable at last.
“And you’re the one that says I complain a lot,” Oka says.
You copy him mockingly and roll your eyes, “I can complain because you have me out here doing grunt work for free!”
“Hey, I’m going to fix your toaster. Isn’t that payment enough?”
“Mm, no it’s not,” you say, pretending to think, “I’m charging interest. Or at least I need a tip, or something.”
Oka raises an eyebrow, “A tip?”
Your hands latch onto the collar of his navy blue jumpsuit, and you pull him closer. Your bodies stand flush against each other. Your lips are pulled into a cheeky grin, but nervousness is filling you from the bottom up. Oka blushes; you’re glad you're not the only one who’s feeling it. You’re so close to him you can feel his heart beating against his ribcage. You wonder if he can feel yours because it’s pounding just as hard. You smile, and Oka can’t help but to find you adorable.
“Yeah, a tip,” you say, getting closer, “You know, a little something extra for my troubles?”
You’re mostly joking, but Oka draws near as well, “For your troubles? What about my troubles, hm? Just how many things have I had to fix for you?”
“I don’t run a legitimate business. I don’t have to pay you for your work, you have to pay me though.”
“Is that right?”
“It is. Worker protection laws, or something like that.”
Your noses touch. You swallow thickly, tightening your grip on his clothes. You thought Oka would’ve jumped away in embarrassment, and you would tease him after. You didn’t think he’d pull you closer, but he called your bluff. Your eyes flicker up to meet his, but he’s too busy looking at your lips to return your gaze.
“So you’re demanding payment and a tip now?”
You nod and whisper, “Don’t make me go on a workers’ strike. Then you’ll really be out of luck.”
“You’re right. I guess I should give you a tip then.”
You only hum in response. Oka’s lips ghost over yours. You feel his arm snake around your body. His gloved hand rests at your lower back. You didn’t think you could get any closer, but somehow you do. His warm breath gently fans over your lips. You raise on to your toes slightly removing the remaining distance between you. Oka is a grown man; it’s been a while since he’s seen his teenage years. But when he kisses you, the excitement bubbling in his chest makes him feel like he’s a dumb high school boy having his first kiss. Your lips feel so perfect against his. He pulls away and smiles.
“Was that a good tip?” He asks.
You cock your head to the side, pretending to think, “I think I mentioned interest too.”
“Interest?”
“Yeah, interest. So pay up.”
He puts down the tool box and used his free hand to cup your face. His thumb gently rubs over your soft lips. His heart is still hammering in his chest. His nervousness still hasn't subsided; although, he always finds himself a little nervous around you. He just can't help it. Still, Oka bends down slightly to kiss you gently with intention. His mouth moves against yours and he holds your lower back firmly as he gladly gives you your requested “interest payment.”