Work Text:
“Excuse me!” A high, whiny voice breaks through the silence of the break room, jolting Hongjoong out of his half-slumber, falling out of the flimsy plastic chair onto the dusty floor. “Excuse me! Where are all the workers? Why aren’t you working?”
He groans, screwing his eyes shut and willing himself not to just lay down and play dead and hope the voice will go away. He’d have to do laundry then, and then waste a perfectly wearable two-week old outfit and probably be written up for refusing to service someone, which he remembered is well within his rights, but his manager didn’t think to think the same.
“Hey! You!”
He opens his eyes and sighs, turning towards the open door behind him where the massive looming shadow of the intruder takes up the entirety of the doorway.
“Miss, this is an employee only zone, I need you to—“
“I don’t want to listen to your excuses, there is a strange man on the premises and I need him removed now. ”
“Miss. I’m currently on break. There are employee’s out on the floor that should be able to help you ”
“I just said I don’t give a crap about your excuses. What are we paying you for?”
“Ma’am, you’re not—“ Hongjoong sighs, deflating into himself further. There goes his break plan of peacefully rotting away in the scent of musty microwaved pizza and being consumed by overwhelming nihilism. “I’ll be right out, ma’am. It’s best if you move out of the employee area.”
“Absolutely not . How do I know if you’re not just going to sit back down on your ass like you were doing?”
“Ma’am, as I said I was on break. And I am sacrificing my break time for you. If you would please wait outside, I’d really appreciate that,” Hongjoong grits out, plastering a smile on his face. There’s nothing in it for him especially since he only did things he was paid for, but after the morning shift he just had, he’d do anything just to get at least the tail end of his break.
The woman insists on standing right outside the door when he finally decides to get up, staggering out of the stale-smelling break room with his name tag crookedly pinned to his chest.
“It’s lazy youngsters like you that ruin the hard work our generation did for you,” the lady scoffs, flicking her thinning blonde pixie cut back in infuriating exasperation. Hongjoong debates giving her a tip or two on hair care lest her hair actually falls out from how much she seems to be fuming, and then perhaps relish in watching the red on her face explode further.
“Ma’am, I want to resolve the problem as soon as possible,” he ends up saying instead, forcing out another tight-lipped smile, gesturing at the bustling store where he already sees two kids fighting over a halloween-themed plushie owl and two grown adults shoveling bags of halloween candy into their shopping carts.
“Well how should I know? Isn’t this your job?”
There goes Hongjoong’s thirty minute break.
—
After a couple minutes of wandering around the store with a vague, barely understandable description of the weird man the lady gave to him, he hears the distinct sound of hard plastic clacking against each other in one of the toy aisles and peeks his head into the relatively empty section only to see a large man fiddling with a nerf gun with two pairs of devil horns on his head, one definitely from the costume section, and a tail hanging behind him. He seems close to Hongjoong’s age, though with his life more together evidently. Definitely a match to the description the lady gave him.
“Excuse me sir?”
The man whips around, one of the devil horn headbands falling in front of his face. He looks like an average businessman, his suit pressed and his tie neatly done, but the more Hongjoong stared the more something felt off. It could be the weird devil get-up the man is seemingly into, considering how un-plastic the other pair of his horns seems to be. He reaches the conclusion that the man was simply enthusiastic about Halloween and very committed to the bit, with the automated tail flicking around behind the man during their standoff.
“Hello, sir,” The man greets politely, bowing his head after a few more beats of silence and staring. “May I inquire about—“
“Right, uh, a customer complained about your presence but…uh, you finding everything okay, sir?”
“Why, yes, of course! This doodad—” the man flips the Nerf gun in his hand and it catches on his fingers, the toy clattering to the floor. He looks a little sheepish and he quickly stoops to pick it up again, clearing his throat. “Yes, it looks like a very advanced weapon. May I speak to the ruler of this realm?”
“Um.” Hongjoong peers back up at the horns again, subconsciously searching for the band or clips holding it in the man’s hair, and truthfully this entire thing is starting to piss him off. Not only will his break be over when he gets back to the break room, but also he could barely see the top of the man’s head, with the guy towering over him like a lanky tree. “Look dude, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. Do you want my manager?”
“Ah! A manager, like the human who manages this space?”
“Well, yes.” Hongjoong squints at the horns again. It’s insanely realistic, not like anything he’s ever seen before. “Unless you mean the company? Then that would be the CEO or something.”
“CEO? What a queer name…” the man mutters quietly to himself, still toying with the Nerf gun as his tail waves about. “May I meet with Mr. CEO? I must ask about the absolutely hellish sigil outside. Oh the horrors that must occur here!”
“Sigil?”
“Why yes, the ring of hell fire surrounding heaven's light and corrupting it from within on the side of this structure.”
“The…Target logo?” What Hongjoong did to deserve this he didn’t know, but he’d be willing to repent or what not if it meant he could exit this situation. Under any other circumstances, he’d be okay with chatting up this man, but running on 3 hours of sleep with only a singular cup of coffee and looking barely presentable, he considers imploding within himself instead. “Look, sir, I would love to help you but I think there’s a little bit of miscommunication here. I can’t really take you to the CEO, but the number to corporate–”
“Then please, allow me to experience the horror first hand. I am willing to enter a contract if that’s what it takes.”
The man peers at Hongjoong with big eyes with his lip jutting out in an honestly exhausting look of persuasion. His tail is still flapping about behind him, alternating between dejected little flicks and puppy-like wags, a still incredible feat of engineering Hongjoong’s mind continually drifts to even with the effort it’s taking for him to think at this moment. Despite the pressed suit and neat hair, he looks pathetically desperate with his Nerf gun in hand and the devil horn headband back on the top of his head while he begs to work at Target of all places. Fortunately, Hongjoong isn’t one to question the odd hobbies of the rich.
“I’ll get you an application. This way.” The man begins to take excited strides towards Hongjoong, tucking the toy to his chest as he starts out of the aisle. “Put the stuff down, please.” The man hesitates for a second before putting the Nerf gun down onto a shelf, posture deflating. “Horns too.” His posture sinks further down, but he does as he’s told and removes the headband off his head, setting it down next to the toy gun.
“Anything else?” Hongjoong asks, sternly looking back at the odd customer, who nods firmly despite his terribly hidden dejection and they begin their journey back to the break room, where Hongjoong is definitely going to sneak in a couple more minutes of rest. From his peripherals, Hongjoong could see the other following closely behind, eyes wandering the yellowish interior of the Target with a weird wonder even though his walk is stiffly professional. He seems like a sweet guy, though he is wearing Hongjoong’s minuscule patience thin, but he isn’t the worst thing that has happened to him today.
“What is an application?”
Hongjoong shuts his eyes and refrains from screaming into the endless aisles of this stupid store. He just has to give this man an application and he’ll be out of his hair forever.
—
“Hello human Hongjoong!”
Hongjoong walks into his next shift only to be greeted by the strange customer from yesterday, still with the horns and the tail whipping behind him, though this time he’s wearing a bright red work shirt with his name tag pinned right in the center of his chest.
After explaining every single detail of the application papers and process to Yunho, a name he had to pry out of the other in exchange for his own name, and pretty much making up Yunho’s information as he goes (“Where are you from?” “Hell.” “What’s your social security number?” “Why must I be socially secure? Has human society become dangerous?”), it’s safe to say that he’s not particularly delighted to see the other standing in front of him. He isn’t even quite sure how Yunho got hired, but perhaps it’s some rich people magic once again at work.
“Feel free to break character whenever,” Hongjoong tosses over his shoulder, pushing past to get to his locker. Fortunately his eight hour shift is at the electronics section today, so he won’t really have to do much except explain return policies and open up cases. And it gives him less chance to run into any other coworkers.
“I do not know what character to break,” Yunho replies, trailing behind him. He sticks close, almost stepping on the back of Hongjoong’s heels multiple times until they reach his locker, then he just stands and stares at Hongjoong.
“Don’t you have work to do?” Hongjoong asks, shoving his things haphazardly into the small cubby and pulling out his red work shirt, plopping heavily onto the bench beside the lockers. “You know, like stocking something, being a cashier?”
“Manager told me today to shadow you.” Yunho nods dutifully, tail swishing behind him. He seems excited, for what it’s worth, despite Hongjoong wanting to bury his face into his knees and wilt into nothingness. Sure, Yunho isn’t the worst, but it’s really screwing over Hongjoong’s decision to remain completely separate from his work.
“I think there’s other people more qualified for that job.” Hongjoong pulls the shirt over his head and strips off the shirt underneath, wincing at the rough texture of the cloth against his skin.
“But I entered the contract with you.” Yunho quirks his head to the side, tail flicking into Hongjoong’s thigh. “So I’m working for you.”
“That’s not how work contracts work,” Hongjoong grumbles, hands dropping down and flicking Yunho’s tail away. It’s weirdly fleshy for a fake tail, an interesting intersection between burning hot and cold to the touch, nothing at all like the foam Hongjoong expected. “You signed to work under the company. The CEO and corporate I was telling you about?”
“I signed the application with you,” Yunho states, confusion clear on his face as he watches Hongjoong stand with significant effort. “Does that not mean I am under you?”
“Nope,” replies Hongjoong, throwing his comfortable t-shirt into the locker and slamming it shut. “Under the thumb of capitalism, you are. Bye bye now.”
He darts towards the door as slowly as he could, quickly clocking in on his way out and breaking through to the depressing fluorescent lighting of the store. It’s a lot calmer at this hour, the floor relatively empty with only a couple of teenagers wandering around with drinks in hand and people heading over to the pharmacy. It shouldn’t be too bad of a day, he just needs to stay awake, snag his check, and leave so he could do his actual work, sipping energy drinks and mixing cool beat he found online.
“It’s rude to leave your shadow behind.”
“Fuck!”
Yunho appears out of nowhere before him, disappointment heavy on his face similar to that of a look Hongjoong’s friends would give him when he shows a picture of his new crush. His arms are crossed in the parental posture of disappointment as well, the unimpressed look on his face giving Hongjoong flashbacks to family dinners he attends yearly.
“How the fuck…?” Hongjoong gapes at the figure in front of him, scarily serious and ridiculous in his tight-fitting shirt and long khakis. “What the hell!? How did you—”
“I’m assigned as your shadow,” Yunho huffs, and then he sinks into the floor, the tiles swallowing up his feet until it reaches halfway up his calves.
“Please get out of the floor, oh my—” If there are holes in the floor, Hongjoong doesn’t know how they’ll have to deal with it, either somehow covering it up or blame it on some random crazy customer that for some reason decided to drill two feet-shaped holes into the ground.
Yunho sinks further into the floor, stopping at his waist with his arms crossed right above the threshold.
“Do not tell me what to do, human,” he sniffs petulantly, turning his head away. “I—”
He’s cut off by a short shriek, and both of their heads whips around in surprise to see a mother and child standing in shock at the end of an aisle. The mother is pale, with her mouth gaping wide and her hands visibly shaking with a death grip on her child’s hand. The kid is relatively unbothered, forehead glued to a tablet with the opening of Paw Patrol playing loudly from the speakers. He doesn’t even look up or seem to notice he’s stopped walking, cross-eyed as he stares at the screen in zombified stupor.
“Be quiet, play fake,” Hongjoong hisses to Yunho, strategically shifting until he’s halfway in front of the other’s and half-sunken body. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry if I shocked you. Our Halloween decorations have been so realistic this year, honestly, it’s scaring me too.”
He pastes on a convincing half-laugh and smacks away Yunho’s horns prodding against his back.
“Oh dear,” the mother says, clutching her chest with the hand not in a death grip on her child while continuing to eye Yunho in fearful disgust. “Why yes I can see it now—” She looks thoroughly unconvinced. “I don’t wish to cause a ruckus but you have to think of the children. I don’t know why you would put out decorations like that.”
She sends Hongjoong a sharp glare before hurrying away with her child dragged along behind her, her fading footsteps frantically exiting the vicinity. Hongjoong sighs in relief when she disappears, the smile dropping from his face as the extreme panic from before subsides into annoyed exhaustion.
“Get up.” Hongjoong turns back to Yunho now, who is doing an shit job at looking fake, still with his arms crossed and puffing what looks like literal fire out of his mouth. “I said to act fake. You’re lucky she didn’t want a closer look.”
Yunho shrugs his shoulders and turns his back towards Hongjoong’s grumpily, clearly giving him the silent treatment which he does not have time for, especially since he was scolded for something Yunho caused by throwing a temper tantrum and destroying the Target floor.
“Yunho, get out of the floor please.” He receives a firm head shake in response and fights the urge to grab onto the stupid horns on Yunho’s head and yanking him out like a stubborn carrot. The only risk to that plan is Yunho actually getting mad and pulling him down into the floor with him. “Yunho—” The man turns his head further away from him huffily. “Yunho, I’m sorry, okay? You can be my shadow.”
It seems to do the trick, Yunho immediately rising from the floor and back to his full height, tail whipping carefree behind him. Fortunately, there doesn’t seem to be a man-shaped hole in the tiles, which means less to worry about. He turns to Yunho, opening his mouth still debating between telling Yunho to just go follow someone else or agreeing to let him shadow him at the electronics section, but before Hongjoong could say anything else, Yunho sinks back down into the floor and disappears into Hongjoong’s shadow, his horns still poking out of the floor.
“Yunho,” Hongjoong calls out exasperatedly, after a brief pause where he recounted all the past mistakes that got him here, and the top of Yunho’s head pokes out of the floor tiles, peering up at Hongjoong inquisitively. “We’re going to start by explaining what shadowing is.”
—
“I don’t see how this is scary,” Yunho expresses as Hongjoong directs him in organizing and restocking the games on the shelf. So far he’s been doing the job quite well, somehow catching on to what Hongjoong’s about to instruct him to do, but even though his presence is way more tolerable that Hongjoong expected, his tail keeps whipping Hongjoong in the face whenever he completes a task. “Is the monotonous task of stacking together these…boxes a countdown and a reminder of the inevitably of death?”
“If you wanted scary you should’ve just gone to help out the person in the halloween section,” Hongjoong grouses, heaving over another heavy box of video games that last night’s shift apparently didn’t restock. The only upside to Yunho being here is that he didn’t have to deal with all these games himself, though he’d prefer it if Yunho gave him just a second of peace.
“I do not understand, is All Hallow’s Eve somehow condensed in a corner of this realm?”
“Yeah, forget that.” Hongjoong swats Yunho’s tail away, the thing barely missing his face as he squats down beside him. “What the fuck was the whole sinking-into-the-floor stunt you pulled?”
“Oh, that?” Yunho replies, watching Hongjoong fix his placement of games on the display shelf. “A simple feat for a high-ranking demon like me.”
He proudly puffs his chest out, tail whipping crazily again and this time landing a solid slap on Hongjoong’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him and making him choke on air.
“I’m sorry, what?” he chokes out, dodging a close call to his face. He really has to stop exciting the guy, whose tail is now explainably connected to his emotions. Like a puppy dog, who apparently crawled out of hell to work at a Target. Perhaps to bring neverending misery to Hongjoong’s life is his goal, which doesn’t seem to be a terrible theory based on his minuscule knowledge of demons.
“Mhm, a proud denizen of hell serving under Satan,” Yunho continues, stuffing the games onto the shelf and nodding excitedly, narrowly missing Hongjoong’s eyes this time with his whipping tail.
“Okay, cool,” Hongjoong ends up saying after the initial shock passes over. He couldn’t say he hadn’t been given hints of the unnatural nature of Yunho beforehand. Everything makes perfect sense now. “Can you get rid of the tail and horns then? It’s distracting.”
“You are taking this news quite well,” Yunho says, pausing to stare at him with another copy of Call of Duty in his hand. “Most humans usually start screaming and praying.”
“I’ve heard worse,” Hongjoong shrugs, taking out a copy of some obscure horror game he’s never heard of before from the box and putting it on the shelf. “Seriously though, get rid of the tail. It’s hazardous to the eyes and the body.”
As much as Yunho is talkative, at least he listens well, his tail slowly phasing out, disappearing into thin air rather soundlessly whilst his horns retract into his skull, a grotesque squelching noise ricocheting off the shelves sandwiching them as it slowly shrinks into his hair before disappearing entirely.
“That was gross, never do that again.”
“You requested it,” Yunho fires back, patting his hair down into place. “Do you want it to come out again?’
Hongjoong makes a face and shakes his head, shuddering at the thought of it. He’s had enough of gorey displays, and frankly he can’t wait for Halloween to end so he can get cheap bags of candy and gorge himself while he watches horror-free ads before his videos.
“Whatever,” he sighs, “what is a high ranking demon like you doing here anyways? Shouldn’t you be wreaking havoc or reaping souls or whatever the hell you guys do?”
“Yes, well,” Yunho looks slightly sheepish, clearing his throat and burning holes into the games in front of him with his eyes. “I’m here for an important task bestowed upon me.”
“Mhhm?” Hongjoong hums, mischievously plucking the case out of Yunho’s hand and shoving it into the appropriate place.
“Yes, well, hell can always use some improvements.” Yunho ends up saying, face flushed a little red and refusing to look at Hongjoong. “A little more terror can never hurt.”
“Well, retail will probably be perfect for the job,” Hongjoong grunts as he stands up, dusting his hands off his pants. “Get rid of those boxes, and prepare for the afternoon crowd.”
—
The afternoon crowd is as terrible as Hongjoong expected, the video game merchandise portion in complete disarray and the music album section completely disorganized, the bottom of certain albums slashed open and flipped through. Someone came in and tried to return a Nintendo Switch only for the box to contain an old WiiU, and then they proceeded to tell Hongjoong they were given the wrong console. Yunho was also wholly unhelpful despite his efforts, marveling at every random device he learns about from complaining customers and ends up playing Kirby on the displayed Switch console.
“Hongjoong, look! My little pink ball is a vehicle!” Yunho calls out from over the aisle he’s in. Hongjoong groans and buries his face into his arm, curling into a ball onto the floor underneath the tech help desk, cushioned only by a dismantled cardboard box and a little portion of rug that the store was too lazy to take out.
“That’s great,” he mumbles, submerging himself into darkness, drowsiness taking over as he lets his vision go fuzzy.
“Excuse me.” A light tapping on the glass above him snaps him out of his stupor. “Hongjoong?”
It’s a familiar voice, soft and low with a lingering hint of nervousness underneath the steady depths, and Hongjoong sluggishly crawls up from his curled up position, poking his head over the desk to see the blurry figure of a blonde man.
“Yeosang?” Yunho’s voice breaks through the confused fog obscuring Hongjoong’s mind, and he blinks rapidly a few times until Yeosang comes into focus in his delicate glory.
“Yeosang!” he mumbled out, his excitement slurred by his slowly-awakening brain. Even if he wants to set his job on fire and taking himself out with it, meeting Yeosang under the yellowish lights of Target truly is a highlight of his days.
“Hey Yunho. Hi Hongjoong.” Yeosang placed a container of cake frosting on the counter as well as a box of tacos and a bag of chips, sweeping a strand of long blonde hair out of his eyes. “It’s been a while.”
He nods at Yunho, who is completely frozen, arms rigid at his sides. Hongjoong looks between them with confusion, snatching the random combination of snacks on the counter and scanning them through.
“You know him?” he asks, not sure if he’s directing the question at Yunho or Yeosang, but judging by the frozen state that Yunho is in, he turns towards Yeosang.
“Yes, we know each other,” Yunho chimes out, making Hongjoong jump out of his skin. “Hard to miss an archangel, really.”
“ Archangel? ” Hongjoong’s neck cracks loudly as he whips around to face Yeosang, who stands there with no change in expression, watching curiously with unbelievably shiny eyes. He peers at Hongjoong innocently, face void of any indication that he even heard what Yunho said.
“It really has been a while…” Yunho echos, approaching Yeosang with slow, predatorial steps, crouching down slightly with his eyes narrowing. Hongjoong’s eyes quickly dart to Yeosang, who is staring at the bag of chips grasped in his hand and hovering above the scanner and completely ignoring whatever is happening with Yunho on the side.
“Hey, uh—”
Hongjoong doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Yunho pounces, throwing his entire body at Yeosang with mouth stretched impossibly wide like a snake, a forked tongue lashing out at lightning speed. In a flash, he’s on top of Yeosang, mouth stretched over the top of his head and legs and arms wrapped completely around his body.
“Ow,” Yeosang mumbles, still completely statue-esque despite the weight of a large man wrapped around him. “It’s only been a millennia, Yunho.”
“But yet I have missed you so,” Yunho sobs around the top of Yeosang’s head. “You haven’t visited in so long. The others missed you too.”
“I don’t visit often because you guys do this all the time,” Yeosang sighs, “Last time San took a chunk out of my arm.”
He rolls his sleeve up to reveal a missing chunk of flesh from his arm, the bone white and shining in the midst of pulsating pinkish flesh, the blood of the wound crawling about the spaces between the muscles like worms under his skin.
“Ah, but that is but a flesh wound you could’ve healed quickly. Did you keep it because—”
Hongjoong clears his throat loudly, regaining the attention of both men who turn their gaze upon him almost immediately, making him flinch back a little from the suddenness.
“Um, yeah. I'm going to need an explanation.” He holds up the bag of chips in his hand. “How is Yeosang an archangel—” he looks back at the squirming wound and gags a little. “…And please put that away.”
Yeosang politely pulls his sleeve over the wound again, untangling Yunho’s legs from around his torso and legs with great effort, and spends an even longer amount of time yanking Yunho off the top of his head.
“Yes, I did wish you didn’t have to find out like this,” Yeosang comments calmly, smoothing down the wrinkles created by Yunho. “I first came down here because there’s been multiple demonic presences in the store, but it’s not really a big issue.” He sends Yunho a tired glance. “You have to stop Satan from sending those gremlins up here, they keep setting people on fire.”
“ Excuse me? ”
“No worries, I put them out,” Yeosang dismisses casually, swiping his card and reaching for the frosting, chips, and taco shells. “And erased their memories of the event. I suppose some humans don’t like to remember being on fire.”
“Right,” Hongjoong cringes, pushing the items towards Yeosang. “Do you?”
“Absolutely not, it itches.”
“Depending on what kind of fire,” Yunho adds, nodding importantly. “What are those?”
He points at the odd food combination Yeosang picked out. Hongjoong is curious too, because now that he knows Yeosang is an archangel, he couldn’t find a good logical reason for him to need groceries. He didn’t even know angels can eat, being rings of eyeballs and what not in their true form.
“I heard some humans raving about these tacos and wanted to try it out.” Yeosang smiles gleefully, eyeing the taco shells. “And I heard there are sweet kinds.”
“Um—” Hongjoong looks down at the selection of ingredients, a horrifying mental image taking form in his head. “You’re eating these…separately, right?”
“No, of course not.” Yeosang’s head tilts in confusion. “This is like what you humans like to call the ‘kitchen sink’ cookies, isn’t it?”
“I guess…?” Yeosang is his favorite customer, archangel or not, and while Hongjoong despises kitchen sink cookies, he’s not about to shatter Yeosang’s bright-eyes excitement over his discovery of tacos, especially since he saw the look on Yeosang’s face when he first discovered pizza.
“Your hair looks stupid by the way,” Yunho interrupts from the side, picking up a piece of Yeosang’s blonde hair and studying it. “It is reminiscent of the hay back in the day.”
He pulls on the strand, masking Yeosang wince, a harsh light pulsing from under his skin for a brief second.
“He looks fine,” Hongjoong huffs, swatting at Yunho’s hand and smoothing Yeosang’s hair back into place. His hand sinks into Yeosang’s hair and he’s almost certain he hears a crunch. “I like it. He just needs some hair masks or something.”
“I used someone’s purifying shampoo by accident,” Yeosang explains dejectedly, picking at the box of taco shells with his fingers. “It’ll fade in a couple hundred years.”
“Good, because it’s nasty,” Yunho huffs, disappearing and bursting back into existence next to Hongjoong, who jumps and bumps his hips bruisingly into the sharp edge of the glass desk.
While he curses at the stupid, un-baby proofed edge of the counter, Yeosang opens the bag of chips and cracks open the frost, scooping a large glob the taco shell and popping it in his mouth, chewing carefully with his nose scrunching up the longer he chews. His eyebrows furrow as he contemplates the taste in his mouth, and if Hongjoong wasn’t so busy trying to figure out if he fractured a hip or not, he’d swat the disgusting concoction out of Yeosang poor hands and somehow get Yunho to damn it to hell.
“Delicious!” Yeosang chirps eventually, eyes lighting up before he ejects the glob of chewed food from his mouth, Yunho catching it in the trash bin he picks up quickly from underneath the counter. Hongjoong passes him a bottle of water, wincing as he watches Yeosang rinse out his mouth before changing down the entire bottle in one go.
“You guys want to try some?” He offers, a pure grin on his face as he holds out his concoction to the both of them, his eyes just a little teary.
“Sure!”
“Yunho, don’t,” Hongjoong warns quietly from the corner of his mouth., and Yunho quickly changes his answer and denies Yeosang. Yeosang shrugs and tosses the remnants of the taco into the bin, gathering the remaining ingredients into his arms and bidding them goodbye before drifting away quietly, making no sound as he strolls away back into the bowels of Target.
“You guys are friends, huh?” Hongjoong comments as he waves at Yeosang, leaning onto the glass counter and looking up at Yunho. “I’m surprised, considering angels and demons are supposed to be like mortal enemies or something.”
“I never understood that myth,” Yunho responds, sinking down into the spinning chair before the computer. “It’s exciting, isn’t it? Because I think my friend has a crush on him.”
“Oh? Human friend? Or demon?” He can’t believe demons have relationship drama as well.
“Demon of course!” Yunho exclaims, dramatically shooting forward and leaning closer into Hongjoong. “You’re my only human friend.”
“Oh,” Hongjoong feels a slight clutter of flattery tickling his chest. He’s had friends before of course, but adulthood has been hard, so hearing something like this again is making him feel weird, an uncomfortably tingly feeling running up his spine.
He straightens abruptly, slamming his hands down just a tad too hard down on the glass tabletop.
“Great, that’s nice,” he coughs out, turning away and exiting out from behind the help desk. “Let’s go see if anything needs restocking.”
—
“Are you incompetent or just fucking with me, huh?” A gruff male voice shouts over the chaos of the cashier lines, almost immediately silencing the crowd around him leaving only some uncertain mumbling continuing to converse unnoticeably.
“What’s going on?” Hongjoong hurries over, pushing past the still crowd walling in the scene before him. It’s been a couple weeks without ruckus, surprisingly, and he wanted to keep it that way.
It’s also been a couple weeks since Yunho became fully integrated into his work life somehow, annoying him enough to make them eat lunch together every time they had a shift talking about his demon friends and Yeosang, who did end up coming back with a craving for dipping everything dippable into peanut butter.
He also meets Hongjoong’s measly friend group that he grew immediately close with, a dangerous thing that didn’t occur to him until he uncovered a plot of scare children at Spirit Halloween using Yunho’s ability to summon spirits of the dead out of thin air. Wooyoung tried to explain that it was a harmless prank for a viral video while Yunho had no clue what he was doing except the fact that he was going to find more scary things for that task he’s supposed to complete. Jongho pleaded the fifth even though he’s caught carrying a tripod.
In conclusion, Yunho is still a nuisance, though he ‘s pretty helpful when he’s not asking more questions about the mortal terror he has yet to find in Target. Hongjoong doesn’t want to bother explaining the psychological horror of working a minimum wage job at a store that older people are particularly fond of. At least not yet.
He finally breaks through to the center of the crowd and finds a thin, scraggly man with bald patches in his beard and a receding hairline fuming at Yunho, who is blinking at him from behind one of the cash registers.
“What’s going on?” he asks again, striding towards true cash register and carefully slotting himself somewhere between Yunho and the man.
“This fucking… idiot .” The man whirls around on Hongjoong, his eyes bulging from behind his wireframe glasses. “I was just trying to return this decoration you guys sold to me! I’m telling you, it came like this!”
He gesticulates wildly at a big pile of humongous plastic bones sitting on the conveyor, a skull the size of a small-sized suitcase topping the pile. The skull is dented at the top, the paint peeling and a good portion of its teeth are missing. It’s also way too big to be any of the skeletons they sold at Target. Hongjoong groans, feeling himself already withering.
“Sir, let’s resolve this issue in another lane. Luke! Do you mind taking over?” He gets a short shout of confirmation before he is once again cut off by enraged sputtering before him.
“I’m not moving until I get my return processed!” The man explodes, waving his finger at Hongjoong’s face. Standing his ground, Hongjoong sees in his peripherals that people have started pulling out their phones and filming the scene, the whispers around them growing as the crowd eyes the scene before them.
“Do you even know how to do your fucking job? I don’t have the receipt but I definitely bought it here!” The man whips back around to Yunho, pointing and yelling at him with insane fervour, spittle flying out of his mouth with each syllable he screams. “Get me your fucking manager! He can probably actually help me rather than tell me that you all can’t process my return!”
Yunho opens his mouth, his gaze darkening dangerously, something Hongjoong has never seen before. His glare is rather terrifying, but it only serves to fuel the bald man further. He advances forward, and Hongjoong quickly steps in between him and Yunho, putting his hands in front of him placatingly.
“Sir, please do not cause a scene unless you want to be escorted out by security.” Hongjoong says sternly, recoiling a little when the man pushes against him and gets up into his face.
“ I am a paying customer ! This is extremely disrespectful and I don’t know why they hired fucking pussies like you to not do your job properly.”
“Sir—”
“I’m a high ranking denizen of Hell and you dare tell me I lack the capabilities to do this job? Nay, you want me to get a mere human to complete this task instead?” Yunho bursts out, a cracking sound beginning to come from him as he steps out from behind the cash register. Hongjoong’s eyes almost bug out of his head when he sees the singed footprints on the white floor behind Yunho and the floor tiles slowly breaking around them, small cracks spitting out smoke and heat, and he quickly pushes him back.
“He means we’ll be right back with the manager and security will be here soon,” Hongjoong cuts in, voice strained in a half-peppy tone. He quickly ushers Yunho away before he could ask any questions, and he spies the other glaring back at the man standing impatiently at the register. He’s certain that if he left Yunho there any longer, he would’ve unleashed the wrath of Hell upon the manchild currently scritching his patchy chin.
“I had a handle on it,” Yunho grouses as he allows himself to be dragged past swinging gray doors. “If you simply allowed me more time—”
“If I gave you more time the manager would have you and me fired. And I actually need this job,” Hongjoong hisses, whirling around viciously and squeezing Yunho’s shoulders with both hands. “No dragging people to hell and no setting people on fire in public, okay? Do that when they die or something.”
“It’s easier when I just send them to their deaths,” grumbles Yunho as the tips of his horns that he inadvertently let out goes back into his head, the sound of it echoing in the empty hallway.
“No you cannot, and you know that. You have people recording .” Hongjoong sighs, head dropping between his shoulders. “How are we going to fix this now?”
“I could’ve opened up the ground beneath them and sent them to eternal damnation if you didn’t stop me.”
“That’s not how—” Hongjoong sucks in a deep breath. “Look man, you’ve been doing honestly not bad but you just can’t use your powers here.”
“I do not understand. Why must I comply if that human is the one that is in the wrong? You said if there is no receipt they cannot return their item.” Yunho’s eyebrows furrow further, his tail that appeared during the confrontation whipping in agitation behind him. “I’m not the one that’s wrong. Why can’t we do anything about it?”
Hongjoong sighs, remembering the exact feeling the first time he got yelled at unreasonably by a customer.
“Yes, you are correct, and I would love to deck the man in the face but we have to control ourselves because there’s rules, Yunho.”
The anger that held Yunho up seems to subside, Hongjoong feeling him physically deflate, a long drawn out sigh leaving his lips.
“You humans complicate things so much. Why can’t you just solve things with fists and blood?” Yunho asks, a flicker of his rage still in his eyes. “Humans are cruel and stupid and scary sometimes. No wonder a good portion of your ranks end up in Hell.”
Hongjoong sinks to the floor and buried his head in his hands, groaning loudly in frustration and growing rage. He’s halfway between ripping his hair out and ripping off his red Target shirt and quitting on the spot.
“I think you’re stupid,” he manages to get out from his curled position against the wall.
“Well, I think you’re rather insufferable,” Yunho huffs, sliding down the wall next to him, his tail snaking on the floor between them.
“There you go again! Using those big words!” Hongjoong throws his hands up, his exhaustion-driven insanity squeezing a laugh out of him. The mental collapse he’s experiencing is definitely going to amplify tonight. He’s going to get himself a nice giant cup of coffee during his break and maybe dunk a McDonald’s soft serve and pretend he’s enjoying a life where he isn’t in this goddamn Target with minimum wage pay.
“That is not a big word. It’s a word of medium length,” replies Yunho, resting his chin between his knees and still huffy, and Hongjoong couldn’t hold in his laugh anymore, giggling maniacally and doing his best to muffle it with his hands. He feels ridiculous, working with a high demon at a shitty job letting himself be bullied by senior citizens and middle-aged assholes to get by. He can feel Yunho’s gaze on him as he giggles louder, his abdomen beginning to hurt from how hard he’s laughing, and Yunho begins to giggle too, probably at the expression on Hongjoong’s face and the insanity of it all.
Their insane giggling session continues, only pausing a couple times with Hongjoong attempting to taper off his laughter with great effort, wiping the tears off his face as he pants for breath, and watching Yunho try to do the same with less control only for the both of them to into laughter again, holding their stomach in the empty supply hallway and crumpling to the floor like ragdolls.
There’s not many good things about having a night shift, especially at a Target, but half-crying and half-laughing in the empty supply hallway with a friend is quite nice sometimes.