Work Text:
“Hey work buddy!” Chaz greeted.
Striker turned with a tired expression at Chaz grinning at him like a fool. “What do you want, moron?” he questioned.
“I was thinking we could get some lunch. My treat~” the lanky shark offered.
Alessio, who was stacking boxes, turned to Striker and gave him a nod. “He’s got good taste. It’s slow right now so I can handle things here,” the older shark told him.
Being admittedly sick of packed lunches, Striker reluctantly decided to accept the invitation. “Fine but it’s just lunch,” the hybrid imp told him.
(...)
Admittedly one of the nice things that came with working at those dens of perversion was having a decent amount of time for a lunch break. A full hour meant they could actually take their time to eat without rushing through their packed lunches or running to a fast food place to scarf something down and run back.
But Chaz took him to a little hole-in-the-wall place he hadn’t noticed before while living in Lust.
“What is this place?” Striker wondered, watching as Chaz guided him inside.
“Something I found while wandering the streets after work,” Chaz told him, pointing to the pictures on the wall. “Okay so you order what you want here and write how much of whatever you like here. If you want noodles, write how many noodles and how much meat you want as well as toppings. You can also get sides of stuff ya want too.”
Striker blinked before scanning the menu, seeing a fried cutlet with rice that looked easy enough to eat so he wrote the number for that down. Chaz ordered some noodles and pork bun and they each grabbed a drink from the cooler before Chaz went to pay. The older imp was surprised Chaz wasn’t bitching out about paying for the both of them.
The two sat at a booth, waiting for their food to arrive which gave them time to chat.
“So how’s work been for you? Getting used to it yet?” Chaz asked, twisting off the cap of his soda.
“About as much as I can get used to workin’ in Pervert City,” Striker snarked.
“You seriously don’t like any part of it?” the shark asked him.
Striker swirled his ramune–lemon lime–in the bottle before letting out a sigh. “I mean I guess the candle shop isn’t the WORST place to work in Lust…aside from the dick shaped candles,” admitted before leaning in. “Why even bother shaping them like that? They’re just going to melt into wax.”
Chaz blinked before laughing, irritating his older coworker. “Seriously, my dude, you need to get a sense of humor,” he chuckled. “It sets the mood and is funny! Nothing breaks the ice like a good laugh. Do you find anything funny?”
“Taking down a weaker opponent and making them look incompetent,” Striker grinned maliciously, thinking how he took down that weakling Moxxie at the Harvest Moon Festival Pain Games. He was only there to take down the prince but showing up that pipsqueak Moxxie was icing on the cake.
Chaz backed away slightly in the booth before shaking his head. “You need a hobby, my friend,” he advised.
“Well I’d ride my horse but I won’t be able to do that until I earn another visit to Wrath,” the older imp snarked. “And don’t suggest I get fuck buddy. NOT interested.”
“There are other things to do in Lust that don’t involve sex since you seem to hate it so much. You're a gun guy? Try a shooting range. Do you have anger issues? Try a rage room,” Chaz suggested.
“Why do you care so damned much? I hate your little buddies so why’re you tryin’ to make me another one, Mister Popular?” Striker questioned, trying to open his own drink. He never had a glass bottle like this before so he was getting a little annoyed.
“Fuck buddies and actual friends are different,” Chaz corrected, looking away as he took another sip of his drink. “I’m a party shark but when the party stops, not many people stick around. Hell, I’ve run away from people I cared about because…I was a shitty partner to ‘em. But I wanna try to be better for them because they don’t deserve that.”
“I…wouldn’t have guessed that with you," the shorter imp admitted. “But why me? I’m a sourpuss traitor that’d sooner sell out anyone that tries to fuck me over.”
Chaz placed his bottle down, giving him a knowing look. “For a lack of a better term, you’re only human. You’ve done…a lot of fucked up things but you’re not a total monster,” he reasoned.
“Tch. Then clearly you don’t know shit about me,” he scoffed, staring at his bottle. “Okay how am I supposed to open this fucker?!” He was about ready to smash the top off but Chaz grabbed his wrist, gently taking the bottle from his hand.
“Let’s not, shall we?” Chaz laughed weakly, placing the bottle down. “Look, here’s how you do it. You take the plastic topper off and push the marble down with the plunger here.”
Striker watched in slight curiosity as Chaz managed to shove the marble down, finally allowing him to drink his soda. “Huh. Guess those stringbean arms of yours have some strength after all,” he commented, rolling his eyes as the taller shark began to flex his biceps.
“Well I have been working out and this job is great exercise,” Chaz grinned. “Glad you noticed.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, ya fuckin’ weirdo,” Striker snarked, sitting up as their food arrived.
As they ate, Striker was surprised that Chazwick actually had a decent taste in food. It wasn’t like the cooking he was used to from Wrath but it was better than fast food or packing his meal every day.
And who could say no to a meal someone offered to pay for him?
(...)
“Hey Thurman,” Striker called.
Chaz, who was waiting to be let into the store, looked over at his shorter coworker. “Oh! Hey work buddy!” he waved.
“Here,” the shorter hybrid began, offering him a to-go cup of coffee. “I know ya like that sugary shit from Hellbucks so…I’m returnin’ the favor for lunch yesterday. Now we’re even.”
Chaz took the cup, taking a big swig before grinning at the shorter male. “Thanks! That was so nice of you–!” Chaz started before Striker pressed a finger to his lips.
“Ah-ah!” he started before giving him a warning look. “First of all, I don’t like bein’ in debt to anyone. Second? I was just gettin’ myself a coffee anyway and remembered your weird-ass sugar filled mess of an order from a cup in the break room. For me? I like black coffee. No sugar. No creamer. Nothin’.”
“Blech. You actually drink coffee with nothing in it?” Chaz cringed as Alessio walked up to the group.
“The boss did that too. Said flavoring’s for weaklings,” Alessio chimed in. “For me? A little cream takes the harsh edge off.”
“Morning fellas. Ready to sell some sexy shit?” the spider-like candleheaded demon grinned as he opened the door to let them in.
“No but it’s payin’ my rent so I’ll deal,” Striker snarked, moving past everyone to get to the lockers.
He still hated working in pervert central but if being treated every once in a while meant he could have variety in his lunches or dinners at work, it wasn’t the worst thing. And the shark did have pretty good taste in food so if he chose to go with him to eat out again, at least they wouldn’t be eating shit.
…maybe he wasn’t completely annoying.
[END]