Chapter Text
Kieran fucking hated closing shift.
It had been a long, gruelling day of listening to customers mispronounce sushi ingredients at him, cleaning up his work station only for it to get messy again, getting rice stuck in his food safe gloves, and hearing nagging complaints about the long wait times.
There was only one employee in the whole store. What the hell was he supposed to do about that?
Not only that, but he gets the great pleasure of being the one having to mop up the sticky floors, wipe down tables, take ingredient stock and prepare for whoever was opening the next day. He was gonna have to come in tomorrow for closing too, and he knew damn well that whoever was before him wouldn’t take as much care in keeping things orderly as much as he did.
All this for $15 an hour.
Kieran watched the fluorescent lights flicker in the reflection of the glass door. A few people were stumbling along the street outside, laughing and shoving each other about, clearly under the influence, and he felt a pang of envy. What he wouldn’t give for a strong drink right now.
Then again, he didn’t have anyone to share it with. Getting drunk is fun, but getting drunk alone was a whole different level of depressing. With that thought, he got back to mopping.
Kieran was a bit of a recluse, for sure. Not exactly by choice, just been dealt a bit of a shitty hand, and along the way, that had been the lifestyle he’d gotten used to. He found it hard to get along with people - he always had a bit of a pitiful air about him, and most people don’t really like being around someone like that. So be it - bills needed paying, his rent was late, and friends weren’t his biggest concern right now. Times like these though, it’s hard not to notice that absence in his life.
A hearty, drunken laugh came through the window. Kieran picked up his bucket and mop and padded into the kitchen. Maybe acquaintances? He had some of those, right?
The sushi store was usually only manned by one staff member at a given time, to take orders, cook, prep and make tea - days were relatively quiet enough that this was manageable. Kieran was pretty sure it was illegal, to have such little supervision on site, but he needed this job and he wasn’t about to go snitching. Every once in a while the store owners, Mr Van der Linde and Mr Matthews, would poke their heads in, mostly to put up a notice about a new flavour or event or whatever. They were nice enough, but never said more than what they needed to, and Kieran was pretty sure those two had something going on between them anyway and didn’t particularly feel like getting in the way there.
He sees his coworkers regularly enough, but usually only when it’s time to swap shifts, which at that point Kieran was so eager to get home that he never said anything more than the usual pleasantries. Even so, along the way he’d learned who was receptive and who would flick their eyes over at him in lieu of a response - perhaps not unkindly, but it made Kieran uncomfortable enough to not give those people anything more than a curt nod as he pushed his way out the back door.
Out of the nicer ones, Lenny, Mary-Beth and Sean, he wasn’t even sure if their “how do you do”’s had gotten to the point of inviting them out for a drink. When he thought about it, he didn’t really know anything about them at all. Maybe Sean mentioned his da once? Kieran watched the soapy water pool through the grout of the tiled floor of the kitchen. Suddenly, his life felt very, very small, and a twinge of shame came up in his chest.
No matter. He’d soon forget this train of thought - he rested the handle of the mop against his chest and fumbled in his pocket for his wired earbuds. taking a moment to work out a knot, He hastily shoved it in his ears, put on his playlist, and tried to ignore the crackle in the audio. Back to work.
He managed to finish up within a half hour, and he was grateful to feel the cool night air on his neck as he locked up the store’s back entrance. It had rained earlier, so there was a pleasant chill in the air, and the asphalt glistened under his work boots. He started to make the walk through the car park to the bus stop, and in the shadows nearby, he spotted a figure leaning on a motorbike and pulling out a cigarette.
He looked closer to see who it was, and the large frame and familiar muss of dark blonde hair told him it was Arthur, one of the store’s delivery drivers. The flame of the lighter illuminated his face as he brought it to the cigarette in his mouth, and Kieran found himself staring at the action. Arthur’s eyes flicked up at Kieran, eyebrow raising slightly, to which Kieran quickly looked away.
He hastened his steps slightly, and found himself pondering why Arthur was on site so late after closing - he didn’t even recall him being the one to pick up the deliveries during his shift today, that had been John on the roster. It stayed on his mind as he boarded the bus. His interactions with Arthur were few and far between, but he always thought he was a decent fellow, always polite on the phone and when receiving deliveries. He was easy on the eyes too - though Kieran knew that pretty people got along with pretty people, and Kieran wasn’t one of those. Still, it was one of the few coworker acquaintances he cherished - God he was pathetic.
He looked back out the window as the bus went past the car park, and saw that Arthur was gone.
Getting back home, the pitiful single light bulb hanging from his ceiling sputtered to life, buzzing incessantly as he hung up his apron on the doorknob. His 150 square feet apartment was in its usual state of disarray, despite him not owning much, and he tried to ignore the fact that the black mold above his fridge had definitely gotten bigger from the last time he noticed it. His orange cat, Branwen, brushed against his legs, pushing her head into his hand as he bent down to scratch between her ears. She was a rare female orange cat, and the light of Kieran’s life - he had found her as a stray kitten in the dumpster one day as he was taking out the trash. He fed her scraps of fish whenever he could, and one day, she showed up at Kieran’s apartment door, and has never left since.
His apartment had a strict no pets policy. he tried to gently shoo her away but she won him over in the end with her insistence - Branwen was discreet and quiet, and how could he say no to that face? Since then, she’s helped Kieran through some of the more stressful elements in his life - he had a tendency to fidget with his hands, and she didn’t mind at all when he would repetitively run his skinny fingers through her long coat of fur, working out the small knots and mats as he went - it helped him greatly to process his feelings, and think things over - a symbiotic relationship, you could say. She was good company.
As he lay down to sleep that night, on his mattress on the floor, he ran his fingers lazily through Branwen’s coat, curled up to his side, and the images that crossed his mind as he drifted off was the shape of the shadow feathered along Arthur’s brow as he lit his cigarette.
This was the most exciting his life would be. He gets to do it all again tomorrow.
———
Kieran put his hands on his hips and analysed the state of the kitchen.
Fucking Micah.
He had laughed when he noticed Kieran grimace at the tub of sauce spilled on the floor as he came through the door.
“Time to pick up the slack, kid,” he said, patting him roughly on the shoulder before leaving.
Kieran was thinking of the various ways he could forcefully remove that stupid moustache off his face before the jingle of the front door called him back to reality.
“The usual, please,” a customer said, someone who Kieran had never seen in his life. He was in for another long shift.
Slipping into his routine was easy enough. It was all mindless work, really, though today the disarray Micah left gave him more things to worry about in between customers. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind as much about the mess itself than the fact that he left one; at least it gave him another thing to do. Today was going to be more or less the same routine - take an order, put on the tea to brew while he waited for the rice to cook, prepare the nori, wipe down the ingredients palette, take another order, take out the first batch of rice and put on another, prepare and serve the first customer’s order, clean the tea nozzle, prepare and serve the next customer’s order, restock the boba palettes, wipe down his work station, tend to the next customer and rinse and repeat. It was slow, but constant, and Kieran was glad that it was a way for his mind to turn off for a bit.
Before long, 3 hours had passed, and Kieran found himself during one of the store’s quiet periods, not long from closing time, whilst having done most of the housekeeping he needed to do. It was like Micah was never here, and Kieran allowed himself to be pleased, not paying mind to the voice in the back of his mind saying that the orderliness wouldn’t last for long. Rain started to hit the window - the wet season was in full swing this week. The barely cohesive shitty pop mix on the speaker warbled through the store, and the Christmas lights decorated on the front of the dollar store across the street flickered on. It was August, a noticeably un-Christmas time of year, but Kieran liked watching the colours through the glass, so he didn’t care.
He was finally starting to predict the lights’ red, blue, green pattern of this particular cycle, when the delivery phone rang.
“Yep,” Kieran picked up the receiver.
“Evenin’ Kieran, got an order for ya,” Arthur’s low drawl came through the phone. Kieran’s eyebrows shot up at hearing his own name.
Kieran fumbled out his notepad, and jotted the customer’s order down, repeating the ingredients back to him. Arthur mispronounced most of them, and Kieran’s lips quirked up slightly in amusement - he could tell Arthur was trying his best, and that deserved a bit of credit.
“That all?” Kieran asked. A pause lingered on the line.
“Err, yeah. Though, you mind if I come in through the back? Don’t wanna get the front entrance all wet.”
“O-Oh, yeah, yeah sure, the door’s open,” his voice cracked on the last sentence, and Kieran wanted to kick himself. Arthur mumbled his thanks and hung up.
Kieran put down the phone and ran his hand through his hair. Arthur knew his name? Well of course he knew his name, they’d spoken before, but he didn’t remember formally introducing himself - hearing his name in Arthur’s voice was unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. He felt his pulse quicken. He answered the phone like he was expecting Kieran to be there too…
No. No! Stop it. He probably looked at the publicly available roster. Duh doy. Kieran wouldn’t put it past a gentleman like Arthur to take notice of details like that. Shame burned in his chest. What was wrong with him? The last thing he wanted to be was some guy picking up on hints that weren’t there.
Amidst all the contemplating, Kieran almost forgot about the order. A distant rumble of thunder snapped him out of it, and while he quickly moved to prepare some rice, in his mind he hoped that Arthur would be okay in the rain.
He had just finished cutting up the sushi roll when the back door swung open. As it did, the sound of the rain, now much heavier, rang clear through the store. The door closed, and with it went the sounds of the elements. A quiet string of curses followed with the squeaking of wet rubber soles on tiled flooring.
“Just a moment, gotta package it up for ya real quick,” Kieran called from the kitchen. He glanced over as he walked to grab a takeout container, and there Arthur was hulking in the doorway, dressed in a transparent poncho over a high visibility company uniform, flicking off the water that was dripping from his fringe. He swept it off his forehead, and Kieran got a glimpse of those unbelievable blue eyes before he looked away out of embarrassment.
“Shit sorry, I still gotta do the tea, I’ll make it quick,” Kieran squeaked out apologetically.
If Arthur had heard the fluster in Kieran’s voice, he didn’t make it known. “That’s quite alright, I’m not so keen to get back out there so soon,” he chuckled lowly. Kieran gave him a shy smile before moving quickly to the tea station.
He was listening to the froth of the brew coming out of the nozzle, ears burning, when Arthur cleared his throat. “So, uh… busy shift today?”
“Oh, naw, just the usual,” Kieran replied. He was excited at the prospect of a conversation, so he tried to give Arthur some more to work with. “Th-Though I had a bit of a mess to clean up from the guy before me.”
“Let me guess. Micah?” Arthur scoffed, and Kieran barked out a laugh at the unexpected response.
“The one and only,” Kieran peeked out at Arthur through his loose hairs. He stirred the ice a bit slower, hoping to drag this interaction out a bit more.
“That rat bastard,” Arthur laughed and shook his head. A second later, something more serious settled over his face. He sighed. “Never liked him. Knew he was bad news the moment I saw him. He ever try anything funny, you let me know, y’hear?”
“What, you gonna beat him up? Not that I’d stop ya,” Kieran joked, but felt surprised to hear that someone as stoic as Arthur had a bone to pick with Micah.
“Maybe, if I could get away with it,” Arthur smirked slightly. “But seriously, if he keeps givin’ you any more trouble, I can put in a word with ol’ Hosea.”
“Mr Matthews? You close?”
“Known him an’ Dutch for 20 years,” he said, and Kieran tilted his head curiously, trying to figure out some quick maths. Arthur continued, “Micah might have Dutch fooled, but if there’s anyone who could persuade him otherwise, it’s Hosea.”
Kieran fitted the lid onto the takeaway cup. “You don’t have to do all that, I-I mean really, I don’t mind the messes all that much a-an’ he don’t say much to me anyway,” Kieran rambled, cringing at the way he stuttered. As much as he disliked Micah, he didn’t wanna be the reason someone got fired. He sheepishly held out the sushi and the cup at Arthur.
“It ain’t just you. He don’t treat Sean too nice neither. And he said some real nasty shit to Lenny. Charles too,” he eyed Kieran as he said the last two sentences, and Kieran frowned as he realised the insinuation. Arthur took the things from Kieran, and prepared his insulation carrier bag.
“W-Well, if he’s doing all that stuff, why ain’t he gone already? That’s gotta be some kind of workplace safety violation…” Kieran tried his best not to look at the multiple potential OSHA points of interest in the room.
“Who knows? I love Dutch, but that man confuses me. In any case, the more people I can report Micah misbehavin’ on, I suppose the better chance we have at somethin’ being done about it.”
Before Kieran could respond, Arthur’s phone buzzed from his pocket. Arthur grunted and put the stuff down on the nearby counter, and struggled about his poncho to retrieve the offending device. Kieran noted, when Arthur held the phone, he did it rather like an older person, holding it directly at eye level and tapping about with his index finger. He was certain that Arthur couldn’t have been that much older than himself, and his heart inexplicably melted at the sight.
Arthur frowned at his phone. “The delivery got cancelled.”
“What? Did they refund it already?”
Arthur pocketed his phone and started unpacking the carrier. “Guess so. Who the hell orders a delivery in the pouring rain then cancels it last minute?”
As if on cue, the room briefly flashed with white, and a clap of thunder immediately followed, causing both the men to jump. Kieran glanced nervously at the clock. They had 10 minutes left till closing, and in this type of weather, he doubted anyone would be insane enough to come in to make an order.
“You uh, you wanna hang around for a bit? Wait out the storm a little,” Kieran suggested, trying to sound as casual as possible. He fidgeted, picking at the skin on his fingers.
Arthur shrugged, then sat down on a nearby crate.
Kieran didn’t wanna bother him, so he started to do some of his closing duties. He went to the front of the store and flipped around the open/closed sign, locked the doors, then grabbed the rag from his pocket to give the glass a quick wipe down.
He was in the middle of rubbing off a stubborn spot on one of the tables when a tap on his shoulder made him jump and whirl around. When the hell did he get there?
Arthur pushed the takeout container towards him. “Might as well eat it.” Kieran didn’t respond, and Arthur shook it at him as if he were coercing a frightened animal.
“I- y-you don’t want it?” Kieran stammered, as Arthur opened the lid of the container, peering inside. He scrunched up his nose.
”Never been my thing, really, raw fish and all that,” he responded, and Kieran “ooh”’d in understanding. He took the container from Arthur, and inspected a roll between his fingers. This particular customer ordered tuna sashimi and carrots, not really his choice of combination, but Kieran had somewhere along his two years of working here stopped questioning the culinary choices of their customers, and it wasn’t until now that he had to be the one to eat it that he gave it more than a second’s thought. He popped it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, grimacing slightly at the difference in texture of the slimy tuna and dry carrot.
“I can see why,” Kieran croaked a moment after swallowing, and Arthur smirked. “I-It’s actually not that bad! Really,” Kieran objected, pinching his apron between his fingers to wipe them off. “I’d never encourage this order of filling, it’s just the customer’s always right…”
“Is that so?” Arthur crossed his arms and his grin grew wider. At some point he’d rolled up his sleeves, the fine hairs on his toned forearms catching some of the bright light from the kitchen. “You’d be able to convince me?”
Kieran blinked. “Well y-yeah, sure, why don’t you tell me more? Is it the texture, the taste, or the idea that kinda puts you off…?”
Arthur shrugged. “Always seemed like somethin’ for other folks, but not me. Guess I’ve never tried it proper…” he brought up a finger to scratch at his forehead, a guilty smile forming on his face.
“Guess I’ll have to make somethin’ real tasty then,” Kieran grinned, and made his way towards the kitchen. “You allergic to anythin’?” he called as he slipped on some food gloves.
“Only bad food,” Arthur said over the counter, and winked at him.
HE WINKED. AT HIM.
Kieran barely stopped an ugly squeak from leaving his mouth, turning around quickly and beelining for the rice cooker. He felt Arthur’s eyes on the back of his skull, blushing furiously as he washed and measured the rice, suddenly feeling very self conscious about the way his skinny arms might have looked moving about. The rain was still pounding against the glass. Kieran cleared his throat nervously.
“You, uh… you known them folks 20 years?”
Arthur hummed in confirmation. “Practically family, they are. Dutch found me when I was a teen, livin’ rough and angry on the streets. Offered me a beer. Spoke to me like a person,” he mused, drumming his fingers lightly on the counter. Kieran gave a sympathetic murmur, feeling guilty for prompting such a personal answer. Arthur continued.
“He told me he needed some muscle for a side hustle he had goin’ on. Said he’d give me a place to live, food on the table… it was hard to say no. Well, that ‘side hustle’ turned out to be a number of odd jobs over the years, business ventures and startups that him and hosea conjured up together. They all ended up failing of course, the crazy bastards,” Arthur chuckled fondly.
“Well, I guess it takes a special set of minds to open a sushi store in Louisiana,” Kieran glanced over his shoulder at Arthur, who gave him a laugh.
“Indeed so, but it’s had a decent run so far, 3 years is almost a record for them,” Arthur’s smile was clear in his voice. “Even without a single Asian person on staff, or in a 50 mile radius for that matter.”
Kieran closed the cooker with a chuckle, turning around to lean back against the table, thumb on the accelerator. Arthur eyed the takeaway cup on the counter and grabbed it, swirling the ice inside. He was about to put the straw in his mouth, but his eyes flicked up to Kieran, and he tilted it towards him in offering. He shook his head with a smile, to which Arthur allowed himself to drink.
He said a moment after swallowing, extending his arm to look at the cup, “The damn tea’s not even a Japanese thing, you know that? ‘s from Taiwan. Dutch was so insistent that it had to be there though. ‘Just have faith, Arthur,’ he told me every single time.” Arthur lowered his voice in imitation. “‘This is how we corner the market. it’s different from what those other fools are doing.’”
Kieran was grinning, looking at the floor. “I can definitely imagine him saying that.” The first alarm on the cooker went off, and Kieran turned to pour in the rice vinegar. He heard Arthur take a noisy sip from the cup, somehow almost finishing the drink already, letting out a satisfied exhale.
“Enough about me though, how ‘bout you? What’s your story?”
Kieran exhaled a sputter through his lips. “I-, it’s a bit of a downer, if you still wanna hear it,” Arthur gave a soft hum, encouraging him to continue. Kieran took a deep breath.
“I was uh, livin’ out west with my mammy and pappy. W-When i was 14, they both died in a car crash. Truck accident on their way to pick me up from school.” Kieran mumbled, picking at a grain of burnt rice stuck on the side of the cooker. “Flunked all my classes after that, became a drop out.” Thunder rumbled in the distance.
“I had to live with my uncle Colm for a bit. Right rotten bastard he was. For my 18th birthday, I bought myself the cheapest bus ticket I could get out of the state, couldn’t have left sooner.” The rice was done, so he set it to roll out onto the nori. He brought the prep mat to the assembly counter in front of Arthur, whose body language had lost all its humour, now looking at Kieran with sad, understanding eyes. Kieran flicked his gaze down to the ingredient palette, grateful for the break in eye contact.
“Spent the next few years in and out of soup kitchens, helpin’ out where I could for some change. moved around a lot. Could never land a proper job, so most my inheritance money went to paying rent.” Kieran’s hands moved like clockwork, spreading on the ingredients. “Mr Van der Linde and Mr Matthews were the first folks that gave me a chance. I practically begged them. They didn’t ask too many questions.” Kieran rolled the sushi, pressing as he went. “I’ll forever be grateful for that.”
“They got soft hearts when it counts, those two,” Arthur said with a sad smile. “I’m real sorry to hear all that, Kieran. Couldn’t have been easy.”
“Hey, well, same to you,” Kieran cut up the sushi into pieces. “Not having a home that young… you must’ve been real scared.” He plated the food, sliding it over the counter to Arthur.
“Bon appetite,” he said, deliberately sounding out the mispronunciations. Arthur picked up a roll, eyeing the ingredients inside. Salmon, cream cheese and avocado. He put it in his mouth, chewing slowly. Kieran held his breath.
Swallowing after a moment, Arthur smiled at him guiltily. “Sorry kid, still not quite my thing.” Kieran felt his hope drop to the floor. He wasn’t even quite sure why he cared so much in the first place, but he felt deflated all the same. A large, calloused hand touched at his gloved fingertips.
“Hey, it’s still way better than I thought it would be,” Arthur said earnestly, like he felt Kieran’s disappointment. He put another roll into his mouth, as if to prove it. Kieran gave a loopy smile in return. Arthur took back his hand, and Kieran’s fingertips burned with the lingering warmth.
Suddenly feeling awkward, Kieran looked up at the glass behind Arthur. The storm wasn’t letting up, the clouds brewing angrily. Water rushed down the streets into drainage systems, and Kieran eyed the small stream snaking its way under the door from outside.
“Uh, I’m just gonna do some stuff in the kitchen. Feel free to make yourself comfy,” he slipped off his gloves, and Arthur nodded, continuing to make his way through the sushi.
Tying up the trash, Kieran wondered if he let on too much. The last thing he wanted was to be pitied, but he supposed if anyone was the least likely to do that it would be Arthur. He was the first one to share, after all, and in the moment Kieran figured he owed it to him to be as equally vulnerable. He hadn’t shared his life like that in a while, and despite the lump in his throat, it did feel nice to let it out.
He tried to imagine a young Arthur living in the streets. It was difficult, big burly man that he was now - he would’ve never guessed the circumstances he came from. Such a pleasant, easy-going fella, with a certain air of responsibility about him. He looked at his own warped image in the metal wall behind the sink. What did he have to show for all his struggles?
An hour and a half had passed until Kieran realised he couldn’t hear the rain anymore. Putting away a final few boxes, he emerged from the back, to find Arthur’s sleeping form hunched over the counter. His plate sat nearby, empty, his shoulders rising and falling as he breathed softly. Kieran’s face went red at the sight, feeling like he was witnessing something private.
He gently took away the plate, but Arthur must have sensed his presence, stirring awake. He lifted his head as he blinked away the sleep, a fabric seam imprinted on the side of his face. Kieran watched carefully as he gathered his surroundings. Christ, his eyes were so blue.
“Sorry for wakin’ you,” Kieran said finally, and Arthur met his gaze, smiling slightly and waving his hand dismissively. “Looks like the storm’s mostly passed, and I’m about to lock up for the night.”
“Alright then,” Arthur’s voice came out gravelly, and he cleared his throat. Kieran quickly went to wash the plate, and by the time he was done, Arthur was standing diligently next to the door. Kieran put away the takeout container of sushi in his backpack before going to join him. He grabbed the trash bag by the door.
Kieran gave the place a final once over, flicked off the lights, then opened the door. The strong scent of rain hit him, and the air was chilling. Letting Arthur exit first, he locked the store up behind him. He went to put the trash in the nearby dumpster before turning back around and wiping his hands in a matter-of-fact motion after the deed was done.
“Uh, thank you, for the food,” Arthur nudged his head towards his motorbike, signalling his departure. “I’ll see you around, then?”
“Y-Yeah, of course. See you around, Arthur,” Kieran said as Arthur gave a small wave, then turned to leave.
Kieran started his walk to the bus stop, before arthur’s voiced called after him.
“Kieran, hang on.”
He stopped walking, and turned around. Arthur had his hands in his pockets, fidgeting ever so slightly.
“…Uh, nevermind, sorry. Have a good night.”
Kieran lingered his gaze before he gave a friendly nod and resumed his walk. What did he want to say to him?
As he rested his head against the cool bus window, he turned over the events of the evening in his mind. Kieran wanted to take every smile Arthur gave him that night, and file them away in a little cabinet in his head. He thought of the wink Arthur threw him, and his leg started bouncing.
He felt like a teenager. How embarrassing, crushing on the first guy that gave him the slightest bit of attention, went a voice in the peripherals of his mind, but Kieran was happy to revel in the excitement for a while. He couldn’t wait to go home and tell Branwen.
He had a skip in his step as he walked up the stairwell of his building. He didn’t wanna get too ahead of himself, but he hoped that he’d get rostered with Arthur again soon.
In his giddiness, as he was taking out his apartment key, it slipped out of his hand. Okay, this was getting ridiculous. He sighed, mentally scolding himself. He’s had his fun, but now he needed to wise up. Someone having basic politeness shouldn’t get him this riled up - he was gonna get himself hurt if he continued on this way. He bent down to pick up the key.
As he went, something reflecting off the ground from the other side caught his eye.
There was a bright orange slip under the door.