Chapter Text
Medkit wasn't exactly aiming for a bartender job when he was searching for a side hustle to do in his spare time, but he ended up accepting one anyway.
It's not like he could be picky with his choices when he was in Crossroads; Medkit had lowered his expectations too many times on his job hunt to know that much.
Besides, at least the uniform was pretty classy. It was at least better than the bright teal suit he had to wear for the church, and being a bartender typically had a far better connotation than working for an extreme religious group. People would give him less scathing looks, looks that read “you're part of the reason why Lost Temple is the way it is,” the looks that Medkit couldn't exactly refute.
“Shifts start at 5pm.” The owner gruffly told him, sliding his job application back towards him with a sweep of her hand like she was dusting off her desk more than handing back a document.
“Be there before then, or else you're getting fired.” She tacked on. Then, she was already looking back at her blocky old computer like she forgot Medkit even existed.
The room, a small office tucked into the corner of the bar, was stiflingly warm and uncomfortably small. A desk took up most of the space, with Medkit having to tip toe around it and the accompanying chair so as to not bump into anything. It was well used and had little knick knacks that he assumed the owner had collected over the years, one of them being a figurine of a glass of whiskey with its crosseyed stare and jolly smile that made Medkit not want to make eye contact with it any longer.
It was almost too homely and lived in, to the point Medkit felt as if he was intruding when he stepped in.
Papers of various shapes, sizes, and ages all decorated the walls in fresh new whites and deteriorating yellows and grays—papers that Medkit, admittedly, compared with the bar owner herself, with her graying horns and gaudy rings and the way she squinted at the screen like Medkit sometimes did when Sword showed him something funny on his phone that he always had full brightness on. Medkit idly touched his horns after that, hoping he looked younger than he felt.
Medkit blinks. His hand hovers over his application, as if wondering when the rug would be pulled.
“Ah,” he starts hesitantly. His gaze settles on his application; for something he crafted with such diligence, it barely even received a glance from the person he offered it to.
“That's.. it?” Medkit wonders aloud. The bar owner turned to look at him with a stern glare.
“What. You don't like it?” She asks.
“No, that's not it at all.” Medkit responds, as calm as he could be. The last thing he wanted was to piss off his new boss.
“I was just thinking the interview process was a bit fast paced—”
“Yeah? Well my bankruptcy is a bit fast paced too, so scram!” She suddenly yelled, standing up to scare Medkit away like a raccoon caught in her trash can, which Medkit promptly does but not before bumping into several things at once.
“Yes, ma'am—” Medkit isn't able to even get his sentence out before he's pushed out of the room, with the heavy door slamming shut behind him with a loud bang right in his ears. In contrast with the stuffy office, the rest of the bar seemed like a breath of fresh air.
He let himself sink onto the cold surface of the door, sighing as he clutched his application to his chest. No wonder this place has been hiring for the last two months when the boss acted like that.
Medkit flinches at the sudden sound. “Hey! I know you're still outside! If you're not clocked in, get out!”
Does this woman have super hearing or something? Medkit began sweating, pausing there for a few seconds like he was checking if he heard that right.
“I can hear your snarky ass thoughts!”
Medkit decided it was better to not further annoy his superhuman boss any longer.
The bar was quaint. It was the only way he could describe it without listing words that would be considered as insults. It was lit up by warm lights that hung from the ceiling, casting the dark mahogany wood in a soft glow that left no nick and mark to the imagination. The corners of the room cradled dust bunnies and cigarette butts, brushed aside yet never picked up. From the quality furniture that seemed to have worn down from time and neglect, Medkit wondered how this place looked in its prime.
Medkit stepped outside and the warm spring breeze hit him before the sunlight did, making him squint as he readjusted his vision after staying inside the dim bar for so long. He always wondered how the weather could look so nice when it was forecasted to rain later that day; the sky wasn't even cloudy.
As Medkit walked, he didn't know how long he was. He also did not know where Sword came from and how long he was following beside him. At this point, the two walking side-by-side was so natural Medkit didn't even notice. He didn't exactly know if he should be worried about that or not.
“Sooo,” Sword begins, tilting his head back as he looks away, though he quickly snaps his gaze back to Medkit as if listening to a riveting tale.
“How'd the interview go? Did you get the job?” He asks with palpable excitement. Honestly, Medkit thinks that he might be more excited for him getting a job than he is.
“Yes,” Medkit replies, awfully aware of the fact that Sword's face beams with joy at the answer. “I did.”
He'll tell him about his eccentric boss and exactly what work he does later, perhaps when he's not looking at him like a puppy who got told he was going to be adopted.
“Congrats, Medkit!” Sword does a sort of side hug, clinging onto Medkit's arm like saran wrap. He lets it happen. Sword just had a tendency to make him acknowledge his achievements, no matter how insignificant they felt to him before.
“You've gotta tell me all about it later, okay?” Sword declares as the two walk off.
Medkit buttons the crisp black vest over himself, smoothing the fabric over as he looks in the mirror for any imperfections that he might as well fix now. The suit fell snugly over his figure, pairing nicely with the white button-down he wore underneath. He picked up a spare black umbrella and stepped outside, hearing the rain fall from the dark cloudy sky above and pattering against the ground.
The trek to the bar wasn't anything exceptional, nor was it exceptional when he walked through the backdoor through the various trash bags and soaked cigarette butts (and some still intact cigarettes) littered across the ground. The mean look his boss gave him also wasn't anything exceptional, and Medkit chose to ignore it for the time being as he clocked in.
Taking a quick glance around, the bar was mostly empty, except for maybe one or two people silently sipping their drink, with occasionally someone talking aloud to themselves or reminiscing about the past that everyone in tandem chose to ignore. The night was slow, and Medkit couldn't help but think the owner being on the verge of bankruptcy wasn't just a throwaway joke. Medkit only had simple drinks to remake for the patrons, who didn't seem like they'd care if they got served top shelf bourbon or vodka.
Amazing news, Medkit thought, That means I don't have to talk to anyone. This is a dream come true.
Well, that was of course until the bar doors flung open with a full swing, blasting Medkit's face with the cold humid air outside.
And he came face to face with the warden, standing tall before the doorway. Actually, too tall, so he had to try and squeeze himself in.
Medkit felt his soul leave his body.
Medkit watched on as Ban Hammer got his horns caught on the doorway, cursing as trying to find a position that let him fit through like he was playing a game of Tetris, he could only think: “What do I exactly do in this situation?”
He decided to just go for it, because at this point, it would be far more suspicious to book it out of there than to serve him.
At first, Medkit wonders why Ban Hammer hasn't noticed him already. Did he look that different when not in uniform? But looking more closely at Ban Hammer’s face, he realizes he still has his purple blindfold on. He supposes since he's not exactly as familiar with him than the other members of the church, perhaps he'll get off scott free from this interaction.
This is one of the many times Medkit has been grateful for not hanging out with Scythe and Broker that often.
“Little thing, huh?” Ban Hammer comments, patting the doorway that he could reach with ease. Medkit stopped himself from saying it was because Ban Hammer was big, not the other way around.
“Hello. What would you like?” Medkit asks in a calm tone of voice as he wipes down the shot glasses and stores them for future use, taking a stark glance at him.
Ban Hammer then shook off the rain on his horns, spraying Medkit in a barrage of rainwater like a dog after a shower before he regained his senses. It's like he knew when Medkit was about to look up to get water all over his face.
“Oops. My bad! Don't wantcha spitting in my drink or anything.” Ban Hammer apologizes to the other, who's leaned away from him with his eye squeezed shut.
Is that seriously Ban Hammer’s only reason to be nice to him?
The warden hums, rubbing his chin for a while on what to order. It may be easier if he didn't have a blindfold on, but to each their own, Medkit supposes.
“I'll just have a whiskey coke, please.”
Medkit begins making it straight away.
“The warden's here! Hey, aren't you excited? I'm doing my deeds as a good samaritan and checking out this dump.” Well, Medkit couldn't exactly disagree with that statement. Though he wished he would stop bothering the other customers.
Ban Hammer takes a seat, leaning on his palm. Medkit would think he was looking at him making his drink if he didn't have that blindfold on, which made him think that Ban Hammer was thinking instead.
“Say, you sound kinda familiar..” Ban Hammer mentions with a thoughtful tone, making Medkit sweat.
“I was on TV once.” Medkit stiffly replies, trying to focus on making Ban Hammer’s drink.
“Really?” Ban Hammer says. Medkit can't tell if he's trying to toy with him or if he's genuinely interested.
“What's your name then? Maybe I remember you from something.”
Medkit pauses.
“Kit.” He simply states.
“Ah, nevermind. Just a nobody, then.”
This was the one time Medkit would be glad to get called a nobody. He slides the glass of whiskey over to Ban Hammer, which he surprisingly catches with perfect ease. He takes a practiced sip before placing it back down on the counter.
“Eh. Could be better.” Ban Hammer says. Medkit has a sneaking suspicion that he would've said that no matter how it tasted.
“I mean, I'd rather drink this in here than be caught out there!” He barks out a laugh, seeming to expect Medkit to do the same.
Ban Hammer glances around for a reaction, if his goofy grin and expectant turns of his head say anything. As his laughter dies down, he clears his throat, rubbing his hands on his thighs.
“Tough crowd, huh?” He chuckles awkwardly, patting his legs in a rhythm like he was trying to fill the silence.
“No, your joke just wasn't funny.” Medkit replies bluntly, putting the finished glasses away with a sharp clink.
“Was too!” Ban Hammer retorted like a pouting child, pointing straight at the other, which Medkit would've pointed out was rude before Ban Hammer jabbed a thumb at the person sitting next to him who stirred.
“See, that guy gets it.”
“‘That guy’ is sleeping.” Medkit corrects with a tired tone.
“Well, still!” He sputters.
“There should be no “well, stills” here, just admit that your joke didn't land.” Medkit explains, and that seems to get Ban Hammer more exasperated than whatever else he's told him so far because he slouches in his seat, arms going limp against his side.
“See, this is what I mean.” Ban Hammer begins, gesturing to all of Medkit in a manner that tells him that he should know what part of him he's meaning.
Medkit raises an eyebrow. Not because he's curious, but more so because he wants to see how far his audacity can get.
“Elaborate.” He simply replies.
“Well, aren't bartenders supposed to be all flirty and stuff?” Ban Hammer asks, rolling his wrist.
That statement makes Medkit pause in his tracks and slowly crane his neck to meet the other’s blindfold. He tries to make it seem obvious, but it's then clear to him that Ban Hammer is less bothered about what he'd said than he was.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me if I look like I want to flirt with anyone.” Medkit deadpans.
In response, Ban Hammer surprises Medkit for the first time by lifting up his blindfold, revealing two sets of eyes; a smaller pair right below the other blinking in unison.
Huh. He thought, that isn't something you see everyday. Although, Medkit doesn't know what he was expecting considering Ban Hammer’s mother has the same.
“Well, I'm looking at one and it looks like you kind of hate me.” He finally responds, pulling his blindfold back on afterwards.
Medkit decides that “kind of hate” is about right for how he's feeling, so he pulls his attention back to wiping down the glasses again. Though without his full attention, Ban Hammer seems to get restless—or perhaps just bored and offended from being ignored.
“It would get you more tips.” He attempts to reason, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone like Medkit.
“Are you going to give me more tips?” Medkit asks.
“Hell no.”
Medkit shoots him an incredulous glance that he knows Ban Hammer wouldn't be able to see.
“Then what am I flirting for?” He asks again, exasperated. Medkit begins to think that talking with this guy is impossible.
“I could become a regular; you'd get more money like that.” Ban Hammer offers, shrugging.
“Are you trying to bribe me into flirting?”
“What? No!” Ban Hammer pouts, sulking from being misunderstood.
“I'm just saying, you'd probably get more bux if you cracked a smile or two on the clock.” He says, leaning on his hands.
“And I'm kicking you out in 3, 2—”
“Wait wait wait!!” Ban Hammer yelps, springing up from his seat.
“Come on, you can't kick me out! I'm your only customer!”
Medkit gestures vaguely to the patron still sleeping soundly in their seat.
“That guy's still here.”
“Yeah, but he doesn't count.” Ban Hammer replies, also waving at them. Medkit couldn't help but think he was right.
“If you don't want to get kicked out, then stop talking like a creep. Or else I'm telling the owner that you harassed me.” Medkit states.
This only makes Ban Hammer start sulking harder, crossing his arms across his chest in what looks to be a pout, which Medkit honestly thought was a bit funny.
“I'm not harassing you..” He grumbles below his breath.
Medkit raises his eyebrow again at that, and he begins to think that it's something he will be doing quite often if he continues to work in this job. Despite the million other quips he could tell, Medkit instead says none of them, deciding to let the moment pass instead.
To his surprise, Ban Hammer lets it pass as well, taking up his time by leaning on the counter like a pouting child and sipping his drink. Medkit was at least glad that he was mature enough to drink without any problems. This guy seems like a problem customer when he's drunk.
It's about an hour later of customers coming in and out before Ban Hammer's seat screeches, causing Medkit to look up at him as he stands up, already halfway to the door somehow.
“Well, nice having ya, Kit!” He salutes goodbye. Medkit wonders if he would ever return.
Honestly, some part of him hoped that he never did. What a hassle.
“How was your first day? Customers giving you trouble?” Sword asks. The mindless chatter of the café calms Medkit's nerves down, letting him enjoy his lunch.
Although, still, how was he supposed to complain to a face like that?
“It went great.” Medkit simply replies, yet he doesn't regret it when he sees Sword's face light up in response.
He'll just wait one more week.