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The bell on the door of the small clothing shop rings as yet another customer enters the store, and Hajime knows he’s going to explode. They’ve been busy all Saturday, at the privately-owned store, and it’s nearing eight at night. Almost closing time. But still the store is as busy as a small shop on the edge of town could be, aisles completely cramped with people who just can’t get enough of their handmade sweaters and jewelry. They’re packed into those aisles like sardines, and for once, Hajime is glad to be behind the register, away from it all.
His aunt owns the store—a small, thin woman with bright eyes that crinkled at the edges when she smiles, and a knack for manipulation. Hajime is proof of that. His job had started when he agreed to fill in for someone over the weekend, and now it’s the middle of summer and he’s working four days a week. It’s not the worst job. It’s just a little tedious, and the store doesn’t have air conditioning. Maybe if the store wasn’t boiling all the time, his temper wouldn’t rise so high with the customers.
Still, he’s getting paid, and that’s what he has to remind himself as an old woman shuffles up to the counter, a mountain of clothes in her arms. She drops the pile in front of him, then grabs a shirt off of the top, holding it up to show him.
“Do you see the price on this shirt?” she asks, raising her eyebrows over her beady eyes. Hajime nods, looking down at the price tag, which reads 3000 yen.
“Don’t you think it’s a little expensive? For just a shirt?” Here she goes. Hajime always has one of these customers a day, and he’d fortunately gone the whole afternoon without one.
“If it’s too expensive, you can come back to buy it on Wednesday,” he recites, as if reading a script. He’s done it enough times that he knows the drill by now. “We have discounts on Wednesdays for all of our items, up to fifty percent off. Would you like to buy it now or come back?”
The woman stops, narrowing her eyes and glaring at the shirt as if to will the price to go down, then sighs. “Yes, I’m going to buy it. I just think it’s a little ridiculous for a shirt to cost that much money.” And there it was. This was how most of these conversations usually went, so Hajime isn’t phased in the slightest. He rings the woman up, sighing heavily as she gathers her bags and leaves the store. When he turns around to take a drink from the water bottle behind him, another customer steps up to the counter and rings the little bell. Hajime’s grip tightens around the bottle, turning around to give them a piece of his mind—for Christ’s sake, he was right there—when he comes face to face with the one person he didn’t mind seeing.
“Hey, there, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa’s voice is like a breeze in the blistering store, and the grin on his face is the sun. “I hope I’m not interrupting what looks like to be a terribly fun shift.” Hajime snorts in response. “I just wanted to stop in to see if you wanted to grab dinner afterwards. Since I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet. You close at eight, right? That’s only another half hour.”
Hajime glances over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone else waiting, then quirks the slightest semblance of a grin. “Let me guess, you were out and the shop was ‘on your way home’?”
Color rises to Oikawa’s cheeks as he nods. “It was!”
“Then why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’re a huge bully and think I always lie, when I don’t.” He falters under Hajime’s knowing gaze, puffing his cheeks out. “Okay, fine, I came from home just to come meet you early. Can you blame a guy for wanting to see his boyfriend? I missed you, Iwa-chan, you act like I only come to see you for some misguided reason.”
“I thought that was the only reason you come to see me,” he says, smirking to himself, then softening his gaze and leaning forward. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you today.” He lightly pushes Oikawa aside so he could check out the customer behind him.
“Mean,” Oikawa huffs, but his face is scarlet, and he moves to the side of the counter so he wouldn’t be in the way. The man steps up to the counter, placing a few pairs of shoes up and pointing to one.
“The laces on that one are a little messed up, do you have replacements?” he inquires, looking down at Hajime.
“No, sorry,” he replies in a monotone, hearing a snort from Oikawa’s direction. “We don’t have any replacements.” He knows what’s coming next, and if he could rip the shoes from the guy and throw them away instead of having to hear this, he would.
“So since they’re broken, that means I should get a discount, right?”
Hajime bites back a scathing remark. He’d like to shove those shoes so far up the man’s ass that he’d never be able to walk again. But more than anything, he just wants to close up and go eat with Oikawa. And kiss him. And touch him, and hold him, and just get away from this stressful job and spend his Saturday night with his boyfriend. “No. We don’t do discounts for broken items. Either buy it or don’t.”
The man wrinkles up his nose, then shakes his head and pushes the other two pairs toward Hajime. “That’s fine. I’ll just buy these two, then.” His tone is terse, like he’d figured out how curt Hajime was being toward him. That was fine, he doesn’t care. He bags the shoes for him, then checks him out and turns his gaze toward Oikawa, who laughs right in his face.
“Goodness, Hajime, no wonder you don’t get that many sales here. Are you trying to scare them all off? You look absolutely murderous right now, I would be scared to approach a cashier who looked like that.”
“Yeah, well that’s about how I feel right now. I hope they’re scared, so they all leave and I can get out of here.”
After another twenty minutes, his prayers are finally answered, and the store has emptied out. He begins to tidy up, going through his closing checklist in his head. Finally, he nearly runs to the back room to clock out, punching his time card and turning back toward the door. Two hands grab at his shoulders and push him back against the wall, and lips are on his lips, hot and needy and desperate.
Oikawa pulls away with a smile, leaving Hajime staring with wide eyes, his chest heaving. “I’ve been waiting this whole time to do that. You’re lucky I have self-control enough to wait until all the customers are gone.” All Hajime can do is stare, blinking at him before finding his voice again.
“What the fuck? You can’t be back here.” Apparently, his brain cells had been lost in the kiss, as well.
“Of course I can, Iwa-chan, the store’s closed now. No one else will be coming in,” Oikawa’s voice rings throughout the small space, and Hajime’s eyes are on his lips. It’s a good enough argument for him, and he dives back in, meeting Oikawa’s lips again, grabbing his slender hips with rough fingers. Oikawa has the audacity to giggle at him, and he pulls away from his lips, moving down to kiss at his neck and nip at the warm flesh. The giggling immediately becomes a moan, and Hajime is more than satisfied with himself. Oikawa’s hands squeeze his ass, and he grins against his neck, sucking at it to bring beautiful purples and reds to the surface.
“Oh, Hajime,” Oikawa whines, clearly more for the dramatics than anything, but Hajime can’t help but feel pleased with himself. But the room is too hot, and he’s feeling lightheaded for reasons other than his impending arousal.
“Let’s go eat, okay?” he interrupts, pulling away and taking Oikawa’s hand. The other blinks at him, cheeks flushed and mouth falling agape.
“What? You start all that and then say, ‘Okay, I’m done here, let’s go eat.’ Are you serious?” Hajime just laughs, grabbing his keys and pulling him toward the front of the store.
“You’re the one that started it, dumbass, so I ended it. I refuse to have sex in the back room at my job. And I’m hungry.” He tugs him outside into the cooler air, sighing in relief, then locks the door behind them.
Oikawa’s lips form a pout as he watches him, and Hajime turns to look at him with a smirk. “C’mon, don’t be a baby.” He interlaces their fingers and squeezes his hand lightly, and Oikawa’s pout goes away, at least a bit. “I was the one who was working all day, I should be the one in a sour mood.”
“Yeah, but now I’m here, so obviously you’re in a good mood now,” Oikawa replies, rolling his eyes as they walked toward the bus stop. “Having a shitty job is worth spending time with me, isn’t it?”
It’s Hajime’s turn to roll his eyes, and he laughs at Oikawa’s logic. “That makes absolutely no sense, stupid.” He stops walking, pulling Oikawa to the side of the pavement to avoid another couple walking behind them. He pulls him close, one hand on his waist and one on his cheek, brushing his thumb over his cheekbone. “But yes. It’s worth it.” He kisses him, and it’s worth it.