Work Text:
Unfortunately for Gilgamesh, Kirei is an incredibly sadistic man. In most cases, this fact would be perfectly fine with the King of Heroes. That is, if Kirei wasn't forcing him to get a job.
Unfortunately for Kirei, being a priest full-time doesn't come with many financial perks. Even with his combined "income", which consisted of the money stolen from the offering boxes within the church and whatever he could scrounge up by pawning Gilgamesh's treasures, he barely had enough to buy food for the week, let alone make up for Gilgamesh's rather extravagant tastes (which, as expected, consisted of wine, and a lot of it). Fortunately for Kirei, he had command seals, and lot of them. Of course Gilgamesh had protested at first, but he eventually gave in, although it had less to do with free will than it did the threat of a well-used command that would force Gilgamesh to cut off every lock of his "sacred hair" (as the King of Heroes called it) if he didn't comply. Faced with an unbreakable force, Gilgamesh headed out on the most terrifying quest he had faced to date: the job hunt.
Shockingly, as he searched, he found again and again that "King of Heroes" did not count as a qualification and "the gods" did not count as references. The more jobs he was turned away from, the more he became disgusted with the general state of modern human society, but the looming threat of hair loss kept him at the search long after he grew bored with it. Regardless of the odds stacked against him, Gilgamesh was able to obtain a few jobs here and there. Keeping them however, was an entirely different matter altogether.
After several unsuccessful attempts at maintaining said jobs, Kirei's patience was running thin. Two days at the Dairy Princess had brought in very few funds before Gilgamesh had discovered a method to make the Blizzard fall out . . . right on customers' heads. The gig as a cafeteria chef lasted for even less time; only one day before he was caught spiking the drinks with wine. Finally, he took a job as a receptionist at a neighborhood salon, which Kirei was sure even he would be able to keep, but within half an hour he had offered to improve several customers' appearances by smashing their mongrel faces in, and was let go without delay.
By his fourth job, Kirei promised Gilgamesh that if he messed this one up, he would definitely "regret it". Needless to say, Gilgamesh was determined to keep his new job as a stock boy at Babes R Us.
Once there, Gilgamesh was absolutely appalled by the vast variety of mongrels. Small mongrels . . . Large mongrels . . . Tall mongrels . . . An abomination! Such vile creatures, always screeching and carrying on, even when faced with his kingly radiance. Not to mention the parent mongrels, who asked a seemingly endless amount of absurd questions. Just the other day, an expecting mother had kept him two entire hours over the issue of choosing a stroller. He was close to telling her that he had met more intelligent beings growing on the underside of rocks, but a stray golden lock reminded him of Kirei's threat and he instead gave the woman one of the strollers for free. All's well that ends well, right?
* * * * *
A week of torment crawled by, then a month, then half a year. It was getting more and more difficult for the King of Heroes to hold in his temper, and he had had a few close calls over the last few days. Just yesterday, a baby mongrel threw up on him, and he almost couldn't restrain himself from forcing it to eat it back up, instead of simply going to the employee bathroom to clean up. Then a couple demanded that he bring out every copy of a certain style of binkie so they could compare quality. He came very close to inserting said binkies into their tracheas at rapid speed, but forced himself to put on his happiest grimace and comply with the customer's wishes. One particularly productive couple brought in their entire swarming brood, bragging about two more on the way. The mass of parasite mongrels swarmed the store, destroying the carefully arranged shelf displays and running around underfoot. Gilgamesh was ready to stuff a few of them inside of Care Bears, damn the consequences, but luckily his shift ended, and he turned the squalling family over to the next unfortunate coworker.
Finally, after a long day of work on one particular Friday afternoon, Gilgamesh was called into the manager's office. He was sure that management had finally found out that he had shredded all of the "The customer is always right!" posters spread around the employee rec room (not to mention the fact that he had written "MONGRELS" in all of the coloring books on display). Instead, unbeknownst to him, the manager was planning on offering Gilgamesh a promotion to cashier, a position coveted by all the other current stock boys. Before the manager could get to the point, he allowed Gilgamesh some time to take in the comfortable manager office, including the numerous family photos that populated his desk. The potential promotee seemed focused on one in particular, and the manager sat back, waiting for the typical, sycophantic remark about how attractive his wife was. Instead, he received a smirk and a "My goodness! You might want to tell your grandmother to watch her weight!"
Needless to say, Gilgamesh didn't get the promotion. To be more precise, he didn't even get a chance to stammer out some sort of apology before the manager handed him the accursed pink slip. Although Gilgamesh dreaded returning home to Kirei, he did find some sort of satisfaction in knocking over as many shelves as possible before leaving.
* * * * *
As he returned to the church, Gilgamesh hoped that he could avoid the phony priest for as long as humanly possible, but like an unwanted visitor, Kirei was there when Gilgamesh wanted him least. As he rounded a corner, he very nearly tackled Kirei, who stood impassibly, finger impatiently tapping against the arm that contained his many command seals. Gilgamesh prayed that he wouldn't bring up the subject of work.
"You're home early. You lost your job, didn't you?"
Delaying the inevitable as long as possible, Gilgamesh spoke as smoothly as he could manage. "That's suspicious of you . . . For your information, there was an anonymous threat on the building that forced the store to close early." He stood back, hoping Kirei would buy the lie.
The priest raised an eyebrow deftly. "Care to explain the pink slip, then?" Kirei questioned, simultaneously gesturing to the paper sticking out of Gilgamesh's pocket not-so-inconspicuously.
Gilgamesh smirked to hide his growing anxiety. "The manager was having me pass these out since he was too much a coward to do himself. Some of them didn't even show up to work."
"That so? Why does that one have your name on it then?"
Curse that bastard's refined perception. Running out of options, the King of Heroes glared at his master icily. "You try dealing with miniature mongrels for half a year without stabbing anyone."
Holding opens his arms in a pseudo-apologetic fashion, Kirei smiled ever so slightly, a gesture that made Gilgamesh shiver despite the summer heat. "Luckily for you, I acquired a different method of obtaining money," Kirei stated simply as he pulled a lottery ticket out from somewhere within the confines of his robes. "Turns out the class A luck you have must've rubbed off on me."
Gilgamesh suddenly went from defensive to offensive. "How long?"
"Oh . . . I don't know. . . I believe it was around the time you started working."
Trying incredibly hard not to do anything he would regret, Gilgamesh feigned friendliness, "Really? How lucky for you . . ."
Smirk widening, Kirei held up the hand with all the command seals, which began to glow a faint red. "You do remember what I promised, right?"
Gilgamesh bristled with anger. "Why do you care? You have your precious money. Leave me my precious hair . . . You know it's worth more anyway."
Kirei slowly lowered said hand, smile still present on his face. "I never intended to get rid of it in the first place. I just wanted to give you an . . . incentive." He casually shrugged, a slight movement of the shoulders. "A bald King of Heroes would just be sickening. You're cuter with it anyways."
Gilgamesh narrowed his eyes at such a backhanded compliment. Typical. "You're lucky you still have the potential to be interesting . . ."
Kirei chuckled ever so slightly. "How does dinner sound?"
Not so quick to forgive, Gilgamesh continued glaring. "You're paying."
"Fine by me."
And with that, the two walked out, Kirei in a wonderful mood (no doubt derived from the Gilgamesh's misery), with the King of Heroes muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "phony priest bastard and his mongrel schemes".