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The afternoon turning into evening had the lanterns and neon signs outside turning on one by one, illuminating the night with all the colours, inviting tired workers and passer-by's to come in and take a break from the world with a cold drink and some company. This izakaya was no different, its noren hanging in the doorway proudly displaying the name of their little bar.
"Welcome in~ Sit wherever you like, darling," the bartender smiled wide as a cautious salaryman stepped inside. His hands never pausing as he poured a drink for one of the waiting patrons perched at the bar counter in front of him.
"Is it always this busy?" the newcomer asked as he glanced around the admittededly packed place, clearly debating internally if he should stay or find another place.
"Oh, only on days ending in y," the man behind the bar laughed, before tilting his head, golden eyes sparkling with amusement, "What can I get you?"
It seemed to do the job, as the man sighed, and slid into one of the free stools in front of the bar counter.
"Uh—what do you recommend?"
"Ooh, dangerous question. Do you want something strong, sweet, or something that’ll make you text someone you shouldn’t?"
Before he could answer, there was the sound of laughter from the small kitchen next to the bar counter.
"Jirou, stop scaring the customers," the chef laughed, his voice raspy but strong, giving him the air of someone very at home in the bar.
"Aw— I’m educating them!" Jirou laughed right back at him, before turning to shake his head lightly, his black hair done up in a bun catching the dim light like silk.
The customer took a moment to gather himself, still slightly apprehensive about staying, but it seemed Jirou had won him over in the end.
"I’ll… take strong."
Jirou simply grinned at him, immediately getting to work on picking the right bottle and the glass it went with, "Knew I liked you. Sit tight."
The sound of ice clinking against the glass as the liquid poured in was so familiar to the barkeep, being one of his favourite sounds in life. Right after the laughter of his patrons.
His moment was broken by the gruff voice from the kitchen calling for him, as a bowl of food was placed on the counter between the stations. "Jirou! Order up!"
"Coming, coming, don’t rush me, I’m working," Jirou laughed, moving over to the divider to grab the food.
In doing so, he caught a glance at his partner, a warmth splashing in his chest as he admired the way Nihongou handled the frying pan, a focused look on his face. At least until those lilac eyes glanced his way, dark brows furrowing in slight annoyance.
"You’re talking too much," he huffed, before plating the side dish to go with the first, adding it to Jirou's tray with a stern look at him as he did so.
"I'd call it multitasking," the barkeep simply shrugged, though it was impossible to keep from smiling. Though before he could leave to take the food to its waiting customer, he leaned over the divider just enough to catch a glance at the next batch of squid sizzling on the grill.
"Ooh! Smells good. What did you do with it today? Smells so diff—"
But Nihongou did not let him continue, shielding the grill with his hand, "don’t touch."
"I wasn’t going to—", Jirou pouted, though it only took a beat of silence between them for Nihongou to look at him the way he always did when Jirou did something to annoy him.
"You were. I know that look," the chef huffed, to which his partner pouted again, his painted lips forming a small bud.
"Just a taste—-", he muttered, but was interrupted again.
"Out."
"You’re cruel," Jirou protested, but was driven away with another stern word.
"Out."
Taking the tray of food with him, Jirou retreated back to the bar, circling around the structure to exit from behind it and bring the ordered food to the table waiting for it.
"See how he treats me? I’m oppressed," he complained half-heartedly, though it was hard to take seriously with the dramatic tone he used.
One of the regular customers gave him a nod to signal for another drink, laughing along with the others at the antics of the two owners, "Yeah, yeah. Same as yesterday, huh?"
"And yet you keep coming back! I'll bring your usual in a second," Jirou shrugged it off, his sparkling smile and infectious laugher returning like they'd never left.
"You know me so well, I should be paying you extra just for great service," the man nodded gladly as Jirou passed by him to get the order fulfilled.
"Flattery will get you everywhere," he sighed, shaking his head in mock-disappointment.
From the kitchen came another gruff laugh, before Nihongou chastised him again playfully, "Jirou—less talking, more serving."
"If I stop talking, we lose half our charm!" Jirou protested, rolling his eyes thetrically at the regulars filling the seats at the counter.
"Then we’ll rely on the food," came the simple response, making Jirou gasp.
"You hear that? I’ve been replaced," he complained with a loud sigh, making a couple of the customers laugh.
The newcomer for the evening raised his brows at Jirou in confusion as the barkeep moved over to his end of the bar, a question clear on his face, "You two always like this?"
Jirou simply shrugged, amused by the question, "This? Oh, we’re being polite."
It took a beat, before then from kitchen came the other man's voice again,
"Oi, Jirou!"
Jirou turned his head only a fraction, mischief sparkling in his eyes, "yes, dear? Want to come man the bar instead, or something? I can take over cooking if needed! I'm a great chef."
"God no—, I'd rather we end the night alive," Nihongou replied with a laugh, before going back to tending to the sizzling food again, leaving the customers to enjoy the show for now.
There was only the sound of Jirou's chatter with the customers at the bar, and the background noise of a busy bar for a good while, lulling the place into its usual rythm, food coming and going and drinks being made.
Jirou was in his element as he flirted gladly with his guests, his laugh floating above the noise and making the atmosphere feel so much more lively.
"Another round!" called one of the regulars, lifting his glass for Jirou to notice him.
"That makes five," Jirou shook his head in something pretending to be disappointment, though it did not stop him from immediately going for the refill anyway.
The customer leaned closer on the counter, watching him with facination, "You keeping count?"
"I keep track of everything, darling," Jirou hummed.
"Then stop serving him," came the voice from the kitchen, interrupting the exchange at the front.
The customer felt his face flush more than it had been, embarrassed at having been called out, "Hey!"
Jirou only shook his head as he laughed. "See? Ruining my fun."
"You’ll ruin him," Nihongou huffed from behind the divider, not sparing the two a glance.
Jirou simply shrugged, handing the man his drink, "He’ll live."
"Barely," was the only response, before the sound of loud sizzling took the air as a fresh batch of vegetables hit the pan.
The newcomer sitting at the counter frowned at the two, a bit confused by the way the chef dared to speak to a client.
"Is he always this strict?" he turned to Jirou again.
But before Jirou could answer, Nihongou had already intervened with a loud sigh.
"Only with idiots."
Jirou for his part did nothing to mitigate, only turning to the regular with a shrug and a barely held back smile, "hear that? You’ve been promoted."
This only left the newcomer stupified, watching Jirou for a moment longer, taking in the barkeep's appearance properly. He had to be young, definitely under thirty, with muscle and beauty alike. But he carried himself with the energy of someone who owned the place. And maybe he did…
Leaning closer, he pulled Jirou's attention again, though this time his voice was much lower, unsure if he'd be laughed at if the others heard, "Are…are you two married or something?"
There was a very brief pause as Jirou processed the question, giving a small smile and a dismissive laugh, "what, are you planning on proposing?"
But the customer only frowned, clearly serious about his question.
It made Jirou actually take a moment, before humming thoughtfully, "Mm… it depends."
Nihongou's voice answered for him, coloured by almost slight annoyance now, "Don’t answer that."
"You’re no fun," Jirou huffed, raising his hands up in defeat, though Nihongou could not see him anyway.
But it did not stop him from excusing him from the bar, moving over to the divider to get Nihongou's attention.
"Hey—"
Nihongou did not spare him a glance, simply shifting to the side to stir the contents of a saucepan with a wooden spoon.
"Out."
Jirou huffed, his smile just a tad less wide now, replaced by fondness, "Not touching anything…"
That made Nihongou finally turn to look at him, throwing the tea towel in his hands onot his shoulder to free his hands.
"That’s new… Did you need something?"
The barkeep's smile turned a bit softer, golden eyes searching for something in the other's as he spoke.
"They asked if we were married."
"What do you want me to say?" came the response as Nihongou tilted his head a bit, glancing at the room behind Jirou, before then returning to return his gaze.
"I don’t know. Something dramatic…?" Jirou simply shrugged.
There was a brief pause, and the sound of something sizzling, before Nihongou sighed, more softly than before, an unreadable look in his eyes.
"You didn’t say no."
It was met with Jirou's soft smile, "didn’t feel like lying."
The short silence between them was broken by a quiet, low chuckle from Nihongou.
"You're impossible."
It was all that was needed, and Jirou soon returned to the bar again, picking up right where he'd left off.
One of the regulars spoke up as he returned, curious to know just what the two had said, with their connversation impossible to make out over the noise of the other patrons.
"What’d he say?"
"Told me to get back to work. Heartless, isn’t he?" Jirou hummed, shaking his head.
Though before he could continue, a plate with three pieces of grilled meat and vegetables landed on the counter next to the divider, catching Jirou's attention.
Nihongou raised the noren at the doorway, meeting his eyes, before pointing at the dish.
"Eat."
Jirou blinked in surprise, moving over to him to take a look at the plate of food, picking it up.
"Oh? For me?"
"It’ll get cold."
"You made this just for me, didn’t you?" Jirou felt himself almost blush, filled with joy over just how cute his partner could be.
Nihongou simply shrugged, already turning back to the kitchen. Jirou could have bet it was to hide his expression.
"I just made extra."
The look in Jirou's eyes was loud enough to have Nihongou sigh, giving him a lopsided grin in return, before disappearing to tend to the pans.
The night went on as it did every night, people coming and going, but slowly and steadily the energy dimmed down as the night progressed, some of the regular patrons slowly nodding off at their tables as the alcohol did its thing.
Jirou didn't mind these night, he found them nice. Nihongou was an exellent chef, and with Jirou's skill at the bar, both in pouring and in flirting, their work flowed beautifully from grill to table.
It went so fast, that when the clock on the counter chimed to notify him of just how close to closing they were, Jirou felt almost out of breath.
"Last orders!" he called out, though it was hard to miss the rough "oof, finally", coming from the kitchen.
Jirou laughed lightheartedly, "don’t sound so eager."
"Just focus on pouring."
And that was that for the day.
—
"Oof… my feet are killing me," Jirou grumbled as he bent down to pick up the last of the chairs, turning it and placing it on top of the table, glancing around to confirm it was the last of them.
Nihongou hummed quietly, carrying an empty keg from the bar to the doorway for taking out tomorrow, "you stood in one place all night."
"I worked all night," Jirou huffed, though there was no offense in his voice as he watched the other.
"Really you talked all night," came the response, before the keg met the floor with a muffled metalling clank, and Nihongou moved over to him with a small sigh.
"We did good tonight," Jirou nodded, placing his hand on Nihongou's arm, pulling the slightly taller man's attention to himself.
Nihongou only gave a small hum, lilac eyes sweeping over Jirou to check him, "Hm."
"Don’t 'hm' me, silly... Say it properly," the younger man insisted.
"…We did good," Nihongou admitted after a moment, earning a soft smile from his boyfriend.
"You gave out two drinks for free," he chastised Jirou, even if they both knew it was just for show.
"Three," Jirou corrected, holding back a smile as he leaned slightly against the other man, who sighed in slightly frustration, though he didn't fight it.
"Your 'strategy' is bad for business.", he simply grumbled, but made no move to deny Jirou his warmth.
"And yet—"
"—we’re still open. Yeah," the older man admitted, a small smile pulling at his lips too.
"…Remember the first night?" Jirou asked after a quiet moment together, his voice soft without any dramatics or performance.
There was a long pause, until Nihongou nodded, a small laugh escaping his lips at the memory, "…You dropped a whole bottle."
"It slipped!" Jirou protested lightheartedly.
"You were showing off—."
"—I was making an impression."
Nihongou laughed at that, shaking his head at the words, "You made a mess."
"And you nearly threw a customer out," Jirou teased him in return, making Nihongou grimace at the memory.
"He complained about the food… it wasn't that salty."
It made Jirou hum and nod in agreement, before returning to his task of arranging the bar into the right order for tomorrow's shift, as Nihongou for his part retrieved a broom from the supply closet and set to work on sweeping the floor.
The air was filled with the quiet clink of glasses being stacked, and the soft, rythmic sounds of the broom against the floor.
After the busy night, these moments felt like a different dimension completely, the chairs empty and the tables cleared of glasses.
"We didn’t have half the menu yet…,"
Jirou's quiet voice pulled Nihongou back from his silent thoughts too, standing up straighter and leaning on the broom as he glanced at his partner.
"Didn’t need it."
Over at the bar, Jirou did not stop his work, though there was a distant look in his eyes, as the memory of that first few days repeated in his head, made hazy by the fog of time and nostalgia.
"We barely had any customers.
Nihongou leaned his head, thinking back on it too, "still opened the next day."
There was a quiet huff, almost a laugh, before silence fell again. Jirou working, and Nihongou simply watching him, a wamr feeling spreading in his chest.
Jirou was beautiful, especially in the dim light of the late hours, and Nihongou couldn't help feeling lucky for having him here. He felt thankful for being able to do this every day, with the person he loved. Only five years ago, he'd never have thought it possible.
"Go sit," he finally spoke softly, pulling Jirou's gaze to himself.
Jirou only shook his head, giving him a laugh, "make me."
And instead of finishing up, he pulled out two glasses from the stack he'd just completed, and crouching down to bring out two cold beers from the fridge under the bar.
The motion of pouring was slower than before, much more familiar. There was no need for professionalism, not in this late hour.
Nihongou sighed, coming over to the bar and taking a seat by the counter, watching Jirou work.
"You’re making more?"
"Just one..."
"That’s never true," Nihongou laughed softly, more of a huff than anything real, but he took the offered glass anyway, bringing it close.
Jirou circled around the bar to come sit by him with his own glass, and the two fell into a silence. A comfortable one, where they could simply exist together in their little space, taking in the tired, but content feeling of a long day done.
Breaking the quiet with a soft sigh, Nihongou leaned to lay his hand gently on Jirou's thigh, giving it a reasuring squeeze
"We did alright."
It earned him a soft look from the other, his hand finding its place over the bigger one, painted nails of the barkeep contrasting the roughness of the chef's.
"One more?" Jirou spoke up finally, straightening his back as he pulled away from the ssoftness of the shared moment.
Nihongou simply shook his head, giving the thigh under his hand another squeeze, before pulling away too, "go to bed."
"Take me there."
The last sound of the night was the gentle press of Jirou's lips against Nihongou's scruffy cheek, and the man's soft sigh, as he took Jirou's hand, and led him upstairs, his heart pleasantly tired and full of love.
They'd be alright.
—-