Work Text:
“Oh, um, hi, hello!” The customer says, obviously out of breath. The mystery man takes a deep breath before continuing, “I know this will sound really strange but my sister’s getting married and her gal pals threw her a bachelorette party and I agreed to come along because she wanted me to but now they’re going to a male strip club and I really don’t want to have a hot almost naked man dance on my lap because it’ll remind me how very single I am and you don’t really need to know all this backstory but can I hide behind the counter for a bit? I ran away before they dragged me in and they’re chasing after me now and I can’t go in there.”
The guy has blue eyes, and they’re looking right into his soul. He can’t fucking say no. God damn it.
“Fine fine. Go around.” Erik instructs the stranger to go around the counter and duck into the space under the desk. At least he’s just covering for a friend. He doesn’t fucking care if Azazel gets fired for harboring illegal cuties. The guy needs a real job anyways, instead of clinging to his college ways.
“You're a life saver!” He squeals before crawling under the table. Once he’s snugly fit inside, he peers up at Erik with those devastatingly blue eyes and smiles bright enough to melt the polar ice caps. Erik thinks it’s a sign from the gods above that Azazel asked him to cover his shift today.
“Oh! Also, my sister is blonde and about 5’9. She’s really loud and probably a smidge tipsy, so it shouldn’t be that hard to recognize her. Good luck!” Erik smirks. He’s already having a lucky night. It’ll be even luckier if he manages to snag the guy’s phone number.
Not much later, a tall, beautiful blonde stumbles into the store. “Have you seen my brother Charles?” She demands. “He’s like 5’7, (tiny I know) brown hair and ran this way? He's a bit drunk too.” She would look threatening if she wasn’t slighting tilting to the left every few seconds.
“No, sorry.” Erik monotonously responds.
Charles’s (a cute name for a cute person) sister crosses her arms across her chest, blows out an exaggerated sigh and stomps out of the dump. Erik watches her rip her phone out of her purse and call someone as she storms off in the direction she came from. A beat later, Charles’s phone starts vibrating. He takes a worried peek under the table and sees he’s just holding the phone, waiting for it to ring off. When it finally stops vibrating, Charles looks visibly relieved.
“Is she gone?” He sounds like a kid hiding from his teacher after a prank gone wrong. It’s adorable.
“Yea, I think she’s going back to the,” Erik snorts. “Strip club.” He snorts again after seeing Charles’s shoulders sag. It’s not every day you get to see a guy happy to hear his sister’s going off to find a stripper. It’s even funnier since Charles fits the goodie-two-shoes persona down to a T. Down part where he literally ran away from going inside a strip club.
“Good. I don't care if she's mad, she knew I wouldn't go in there. I'm too stubborn for that. Anyways, how can I repay… Oh! Where have my manners gone? I haven’t even asked you for your name!” Charles’s forehead bumps against Erik’s hip and Erik realizes how compromising their positions are. If Azazel’s boss actually watched the security tapes it’d be real awkward for him to explain why a beautiful man climbed behind the counter after running from the direction of all the strip clubs. He stares down at how Charles is kneeling with his hands neatly placed between his thighs, mouth nearly aligned with his crotch. He mentally warns his dick to calm the fuck down . It’s no help that Charles’s lips are stained a sinful cherry red. His hair's also a mess, Erik’s hands itching to run through and pull just a bit. More than a bit. This is what happens when he doesn’t jack off every once in awhile. Lewd thoughts about total strangers. Fantastic.
“It’s Erik.” He manages.
“Thank you for sheltering me Erik. how can I ever repay you?” His name beautifully rolls off of Charles’s tongue and he imagines what else that sweet tongue can do. And then he stops. What is he, a middle schooler? Twenty fucking nine and he’s thinking about a stranger blowing him in a convenience store. It’s like he was teleported back to his first year of college. One step at a time Erik, just make sure he doesn’t slip away. Then you can go into dick sucking.
“No problem. Can’t have you get mauled by hordes of hot sweating guys, right?” Erik tries his best to not do the ‘Evil car compactor smile’ as Azazel calls it. Erik doesn’t even know how Azazel came up with 'car compactor' as a description. Most people just go with shark teeth, much more understandable.
Charles lets out a soft giggle and Erik is witnessing a piece of heaven being born. Erik’s not gonna lie, he knows he’s above average (Azazel says ‘smoking hot, no homo’) when it comes to looks, but he feels like a deformed strawberry next to the beauty that is Charles . “I think I’m already getting mauled by one. At least I hope I am.” Charles’s horrible attempt at flirting just makes him even cuter. Wait. He’s… flirting? Oh shit. Charles is flirting with him. Say something back Erik, you fool!
“I don’t know, am I? I was hoping to be more… subtle.” Alright Erik, that sounds passable. And besides, Charles looks a bit tipsy himself, so he can afford to not be at the top of his game. Right? It doesn’t feel right.
“Your charming face doesn’t allow for it.” Charles begins to free himself from the counter by placing both his hands on Erik’s thighs, sliding them down a bit too slowly to be casual, and gently pushing Erik backwards. Once Erik’s given up enough wiggle room, he stumbles out of his hiding space, trips over some can on the floor, (Erik is very happy he drank that canned starbucks shit now) and face plants into Erik’s chest, giving him the perfect opportunity to clutch those painfully elegant biceps. Neither of them move for a (too short) moment before Charles jerks out of Erik’s grasp.
“Sorry! I should’ve watched my feet. I haven’t had a real drink in quite some time but I didn’t think I’d be this bad with my feet.” Charles tries to laugh it off, but in reality, he’s just doing a poor job of hiding the blush crawling up his cheeks behind his hand. It’s endearing. Erik is falling for him already.
“I don’t think so either. Did you trip on purpose to fall into my arms?” Erik jokes.
“Maybe.” Charles turns a deeper shade of red and looks away, running his hand through his hair in yet another shoddy attempt to cover himself. “Does it matter?” he sounds like a pouting child.
“Well, if it was on purpose it’d lead me to believe you have taken an interest in me. And then that would lead me to asking for your number.” Erik is in the zone now. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he shouldn’t prey on a (cute) drunk stranger, but he’s not doing anything inappropriate, right? Charles isn’t even that drunk, and it’s not like he’s gonna blow him or anything close to that. He’s just going to get his number, offer to drive him home after his shift is over, (which is soon, thank god!) make sure he’s through the door, go home and jack off a bit. No problems with that plan, right?
“Well, if I told you it was on purpose, will you ask me for my number?” The goofy smile Charles has on is making his heart pump .
“If you do tell me it was on purpose, I will ask for your number.” Erik smiles back and thinks there’s no crushing cars involved.
“Well, I have a secret to tell you.”
“Yes, Charles?”
Charles gets on his tippy toes and pulls Erik down by his jacket before whispering, “I tripped on purpose. I hope you aren’t mad.”
Erik turns to face Charles and responds, “Not at all. This is the part where I ask for your number and hope you give it to me.”
“And this is the part where I give it to you. Pen?”
Erik shuffles through the heaping mess on the counter and pulls out a sharpie, which is promptly taken out of his hands by a very impatient Charles.
“Arm.” Charles tilts his head up and holds his hand out, being a demanding little punk. Erik rolls his jacket sleeve up and presents it to him. Charles slowly puts the numbers down one by one, making sure there are no drunken mistakes. Erik delightfully watches Charles pour all of his focus into this one action. When Charles is finally finished, he rolls down Erik’s sleeve and proudly pats the section he wrote on.
“There.”
“Thanks, I’ll treasure it.” He pulls out his phone to enter Charles into his contacts. Charles looks like he just remembered phones exist.
“Oh. I could’ve done that!” The pouty face is running rampant again.
“But you didn’t.” Erik holds his phone in front of Charles’s face and shakes it for emphasis. Charles sticks his tongue out and crosses his arms. Erik sees an idea pop into his mind and Charles hastily gets out his own phone. He unlocks it and begins creating a new contacts page for Erik. The amount of emojis taking up the last name section would be appalling if Charles wasn’t so excited to put them in.
“Here!” Charles shoves his phone into Erik’s hands and hops around like an overexcited puppy waiting for his treat. Erik inputs his number and triples checks it before handing the phone back.
“There you go Charles, anything else you need?” At this rate, Charles could ask Erik to kill a person and he’d do it. Even if that person was the queen of England. He’d kill the entire family if Charles wanted him to. Besides, nobody really likes those royal people right? They wouldn’t be missed. Charles is more important.
Charles takes some time to think before replying, “I have no way to get home. My sister has the car. Do you have a car?” Charles is already eyeing the red one that’s parked directly in front of the store. He parked it there so nobody would break the damn glass and take… the poptarts in his glove compartment? Or like, his phone charger? The quarters next to the stick shift? There’s nothing in there worth anything, but the assholes in this area would probably break into it for funsies. Why does Azazel even work in this area? He really needs to help Azazel get a better job. He can’t keep living like this. More importantly, he can’t keep having Azazel beg him to cover his shift. He agrees to just make him shut up about it most of the time.
“Your wish is my command.” Erik theatrically bows for Charles, who’s bubbling over with laughter. It’s the most beautiful sound to ever bless his ears. “I’m done covering for my friend in about,” He looks over to the wall clock. “Twenty minutes. Care to wait?”
“I’d love to.”
+++
Twenty minutes of friendly bantering and less than friendly flirting later, Charles has drank enough water to be confidant he won’t have a hangover tomorrow and Erik’s drank enough of Charles’s sunshine to be happy for the next year. The clock hits midnight and they’re already rushing out of the dingy convenience store to the car.
+++
Erik pulls up to Charles’s apartment and goes help Charles out of his car. It’s probably the most gentlemanly thing he’s ever done in his life. Including that one time he tied Azazel’s tie in five seconds flat while completely wasted in some college party. Charles takes his hand and gets pulled up and into Erik’s arms. God it’s so lovey dovey. Erik thinks he’s about to throw up from the cheesiness. Or sent to the hospital because of a cheese overdose.
“This is where we part ways, Erik. I hope to see you tomorrow.”
Charles waves goodbye and starts walking off to his front door, key already in his hand. Erik’s about to wave back when Charles abruptly turns and runs back to Erik.
“I almost forgot.” Charles gives Erik a peck on the lips. “A gift from me to you.”
“I hope to be getting more of those gifts in the near future.” Erik smoothly responds. Charles’s blush is brightly visible even in the veil of night. He waves once more and rushes back to his home, stumbling on one of the front steps. Erik wonders how he managed to sound that smooth . Once Charles in safely inside, Erik gets back in his car and drives on home, already going over the night’s events.
+++
Erik replays the kiss in his mind and feels the heat creeping up on his face. He thinks he really
is
a middle schooler.