Ryan took another swig of the lukewarm coffee he'd stashed in the kitchen. You could hear the rain coming down over the sound of the sound of the music leaking in from the dining room. It was peak dinner rush, and he was up to his elbows in dishes. The can of food trash nearby competed with the smell of the bleach water in the sink. The dishwashing station was tucked into an out of the way section of the busy kitchen, its own odd sort of haven in the hive of activity. There was no time to rest, however. Two waitresses called for tables to be cleared, and the line cooks were calling for clean pans.
After scrubbing the requested cookware, Ryan hoisted his empty black basin and snaked his way through the kitchen. The ambiance in the dining room was completely different. There were soft wood tones everywhere, and the booths and chairs were lushly padded, encouraging patrons to sit and enjoy, and maybe order more food while they were at it. Oh, how he'd love to lay on one of those booths in the unopened section and rest his eyes for a bit... Just for a bit... Not that he could. If he did that he'd be out cold in seconds. Besides, he'd already had both his meal break and his fifteen. Nothing he could do now but keep his head down and keep working. The end of his shift would come soon enough. He just had to keep moving. Just keep moving…
He cleared the first table and made his way to the second one. Patrons tended to ignore him, which was all to the better as far as he was concerned. It had to be his collar. Being labeled as an omega seemed to him invisible sometimes. The other busboy wasn't working tonight, but they often had to fetch forgotten sauces or run for drink refills. Ryan figured in the end, it just made it easier to do his job.
He began clearing the second table. They must have had a child with them, since there was an order of kids' chicken with only half of one piece missing, and everything else covered in ketchup. There was even ketchup smeared on the table and the seat. When he first started working, the amount of food waste he'd encountered shocked him. Now, he just kind of accepted it. He got a free meal every shift anyway. Some things took too much energy to worry about. He stifled a yawn.
"Excuse me, sir? Could I have a refill?"
Ryan nearly dropped his basin when he heard that voice. He turned around slowly. Sure enough, sitting there tucked into a booth, wearing his typical scrubs and lab coat, was his boyfriend. His boyfriend he'd fought with two days prior. That boyfriend was currently at his workplace, and halfway through a meal. Between surprise, and a little fear, he couldn't stop the words from coming out, "Why are you here?"
"Because I was hungry. And because you left your food in my car. And because I upset you, and I want to talk about it. And because it's pouring outside, and I thought I'd offer you a ride once your shift's over."
Ryan blinked. Scott wasn't being smug, he didn't seem irritated, and far as he could tell, was being completely genuine. Wasn't Scott angry at him for working? Was Scott angry at him at all for yelling? His over–tired brain wasn't firing on all cylinders at the moment, resulting in a kind of blank, gape–mouthed stare.
He managed to sweep all his wits into a little pile to respond with, "I've already... I took my breaks already. I don't... I mean, I can't stop to talk right now. And... my shift's not over 'till we die off."
"That's okay. I can wait. I brought work I can do."
"You sure...?"
Scott smiled and lifted a small laptop from a messenger bag on the seat next to him to prove that he did, indeed, have something to occupy him while he waited. Ryan kinda nodded dumbly, finished clearing the table, then mumbled something about waitresses and refills before heading back to the kitchen.
Only when Ryan was out of sight did Scott let any worry show on his face. It was easy to tell Ryan was way past tired. But, Scott was NOT going to bring up work schedules until they'd had a proper conversation. Stressed or not, he'd managed to step on a landmine. And if he could help it, he'd rather not do it again. Besides, Ryan's comment had hurt. Of course he knew Ryan could take care of himself, it's just, there's no reason they couldn't share their burdens, right?
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Ryan made his way back to the dishwashing station in a daze after informing a server of Scott's need for a refill. As he started in again on the never ending pile, he tried to wrap his head around what just happened. Scott... wasn't mad? Even after he'd snapped at him? He couldn't quite connect the dots. Scott should be furious. What alpha wouldn't be? He found himself starting to laugh at the absurdity, but quickly got himself back under control. He was so tired... Even the soap bubbles started to look a little funny. He could see his reflection in the bigger ones… Heh…
He shook himself in an attempt to wake up, and downed the last of his cold coffee before diving back headfirst into the task at hand. These dishes weren't going to wash themselves!
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Scott finished off his meal and pulled out his laptop. He had several charts he needed to finish writing up, and if he got them done tonight, it was one less thing he'd have to do tomorrow. Every now and then he'd catch his boyfriend coming out of the kitchen door with his big black basin. They'd lock eyes for a moment, share a smile, then go back to work. His waitress kept checking up on him, but he couldn't tell if she was being attentive or if she was trying to clear the table. He'd already paid the check, it would make sense for her to want to seat a new patron here.
"Sir, are you sure I can't get you anything?" The waitress asked for the fifth time after he'd finished eating.
To be fair, he'd been camping for nearly forty minutes at this point, so he decided to give an explanation.
"I'm fine." he assured, "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend to get off so I can give him a ride home, since it's raining and all."
"Boyfriend...?" She looked rather disappointed for a second or two. "In that case, wave me down if you need anything."
So that's what it was, eh? Not that she wasn't attractive, but Scott was very happily off the market at the moment. Besides, she wasn't wearing an omega collar. He'd decided years ago that he would only go out with omegas. Things were less complicated that way.
He nodded his assent with a smile and she walked off. Slowly, the restaurant was starting to quiet down, though the rain never let up. If anything, the rain got heavier. Peak hours were almost over. The waitress never did come back to check on him, but Ryan did. He brought a sliver of cake and told the brief story of the coworker who bemoaned that all the hot guys were either gay or taken, and why in the hell did it have to be both?!
Ryan seemed to be having a hard time keeping a straight face. Scott certainly wasn't trying to poke fun at the poor girl's expense, and debating chastising Ryan for laughing at her, until he got a really good look at Rayan's face. Eyes half–lidded and bagged, he had to be more than just tired.
"Sweetheart, when's your shift over?" Scott asked.
"Maybe like another hour?" Ryan theorized. "Faster the dishes stop getting dirty, the faster I can go home."
Ryan let out a little laugh. Dishes that stop getting dirty? That was hilarious!
"You should ask to be cut. You need to get some sleep."
"Naw, I'll be fine. I gotta get back to work. Later, Cuddle Bug!" Ryan gave Scott a quick peck on the cheek and weaved his way back to the kitchen, suppressing giggles the whole time.
Scott could see this going bad several different ways. He wanted to say something. He wanted to put his foot down. What was he going to do though? Demand to see the manager and demand they send Ryan home? He couldn't do that. Even though he really, really, really wanted to.
The minutes ticked by. Scott found it harder and harder to focus on his computer screen. Outside, the rain hadn't let up at all. One chart left to do, and he found himself staring at it unable to input anything. Ten minutes. Twenty minutes. Thirty minutes...
!!!!!CRASH!!!!!