About Time, PG
Title: About Time
Author: abstract_whisk
Words/Time: 1059/48 minutes
Rating: PG
Prompt: Colleague
Summary: Peter should have known all along hiring Keith was a good idea.
Notes: I have more writing on this world, if you're interested, here. Also, hello, I'm new and this was loads of fun.
Peter felt good, zipping about Masked on a crowded Saturday night. Emotions were running high, the music louder than normal by some prescient thought of Gail's and the alcohol flowing like rain- everybody got a little wet. Everybody, but Peter, that is. He was working, though- Gail had gotten very angry when Peter had- once- accepted a drink while on the job, but Peter secretly suspected that it was only because she couldn't hold her liquor. Not that Peter needed to drink to feel happy and alive, especially not tonight.
"You good?" Peter asked, breezing by the bar anyway, just to see Keith. He wasn't there to see if he needed anything, not really, because Keith managed just fine on busy nights. He just wanted to see him. Watching Keith work was definitely on Peter's list of top pastimes. It wasn't number one- that would be creepy- but it was on there.
"Always," Keith allowed, between serving drinks. In front of him another two drinks were being prepared as Keith manipulated the magnetic force of the metal rings beneath every glass and bottle. It was a handy system, worth every effort they had put into setting it up.
"Sure you don't need me to fetch anything for you?" Peter tapped his fingers restlessly on the bar. "I mean, you know it wouldn't be a problem and I'd be back in a flash."
Keith gave him a grin, a good grin like he was enjoying himself and enjoying Peter's company, which was exactly what Peter liked to see.
"I'm fine," he insisted. "But if you're out of things to do, feel free to collect the empties for me."
Peter was never out of things to do. Though he couldn't always think as fast as he could move- that would've been fast- he could always come up with half a dozen things to keep himself preoccupied, not even counting the things he could do to make sure things were running smoothly and efficiently with his patrons. If all else failed, even, he could go train in one of the back rooms, where there was always someone hanging around.
Regardless, he gave Keith a wink and sped away to collect the empty glasses from along the bar. As a whirl of air the patrons probably didn't even notice, he sped down the line and then jumped the clear end of the bar to get to the sink and washed them.
The whole process took approximately seventeen point two seconds. Not that he was counting. He jumped back over to the proper side of the bar, righted his hat and leaned against the end, grinning back at Keith, who hadn't moved from mixing more drinks.
"Thanks," Keith said, not quite meeting Peter's eyes even though his grin hadn't faded. "You didn't have to do that."
"I like to help." Peter told him, shrugging. "But I probably should get back to the door."
"When do you get off tonight?" Keith said in a jumble of words, as though he had been trying to get them out before Peter could take off. Peter hadn't had any intention of taking off before Keith responded anyway, but it was kind of sweet of him to make such an effort.
"I mean," Keith went on, more slowly. "I work until close, like always, but I know you and Gail stay later doing- whatever managerial things there are to do and whatnot."
"We're normally through about an hour after that. There's not really all that much managerial whatnot that has to be done at night."
Keith's smile grew more relaxed at the teasing, and he dumped several different drinks into different glasses and sent them off to their owners before responding.
"Do you want to have a drink, then?" he asked. Finally he turned his whole attention to Peter, who had taken to shredding a bit of napkin as he waited for the conversation to progress. He looked up, taking Keith in a bit more critically than usual. He hated being played.
"I would love to, sweets," he announced finally. Quick as ever, he got a running start to vault the bar, slid across its surface- too fast for the movement to register in any casual observer’s eye- and kissed Keith on the cheek. The kiss was slower, but only comparatively. Really it was only a peck and a grin, before he was off again.
No matter how quickly- or slowly, when he was holding back- Peter completed his tasks for the night, closing time always seemed to be a lifetime away. Handing out liability forms to first time patrons, filing the paper work, putting out a small fire, ferrying music requests, handing out keys to the training rooms- even sparring a bit with Wendy when she flew in for a visit did nothing to pass the time more quickly.
Finally, after the patrons had been ushered out and the janitorial staff had swept in, after Peter had been waylaid in the office by his sister, who wanted to talk about expanding, or spreading awareness, or her latest line of gene-friendly toys- he hadn’t been listening properly, anxious to be excused- and after she had finally waved him off to meet Keith, Peter was able to sidle up to the bar, with Gail’s words, “It’s about damn time, you’ve never been this slow about anything else,” ringing in his ears.
Sure enough, Keith was waiting for him on the opposite from normal side of the bar, his stool serving as a template for the circle of unmopped floor beneath it. He wore an expression that Peter was not really used to seeing. It was the same, almost shy look he had worn when he had thanked Peter earlier.
“Hey,” Keith said, smiling the shy expression away and pushing a drink down the bar so that it sat in front of the empty stool beside him.
“Hey yourself,” Peter replied. He was across the room, perching on the stool in an instant. For some reason at the same time, he had taken on Keith’s shyness as his own. He reached for the drink as a hand settled on his thigh.
He didn’t need alcohol to feel happy and alive, but Peter anticipated he would feel that way a lot more in the future, if he kept hanging around the bar.
Author: abstract_whisk
Words/Time: 1059/48 minutes
Rating: PG
Prompt: Colleague
Summary: Peter should have known all along hiring Keith was a good idea.
Notes: I have more writing on this world, if you're interested, here. Also, hello, I'm new and this was loads of fun.
Peter felt good, zipping about Masked on a crowded Saturday night. Emotions were running high, the music louder than normal by some prescient thought of Gail's and the alcohol flowing like rain- everybody got a little wet. Everybody, but Peter, that is. He was working, though- Gail had gotten very angry when Peter had- once- accepted a drink while on the job, but Peter secretly suspected that it was only because she couldn't hold her liquor. Not that Peter needed to drink to feel happy and alive, especially not tonight.
"You good?" Peter asked, breezing by the bar anyway, just to see Keith. He wasn't there to see if he needed anything, not really, because Keith managed just fine on busy nights. He just wanted to see him. Watching Keith work was definitely on Peter's list of top pastimes. It wasn't number one- that would be creepy- but it was on there.
"Always," Keith allowed, between serving drinks. In front of him another two drinks were being prepared as Keith manipulated the magnetic force of the metal rings beneath every glass and bottle. It was a handy system, worth every effort they had put into setting it up.
"Sure you don't need me to fetch anything for you?" Peter tapped his fingers restlessly on the bar. "I mean, you know it wouldn't be a problem and I'd be back in a flash."
Keith gave him a grin, a good grin like he was enjoying himself and enjoying Peter's company, which was exactly what Peter liked to see.
"I'm fine," he insisted. "But if you're out of things to do, feel free to collect the empties for me."
Peter was never out of things to do. Though he couldn't always think as fast as he could move- that would've been fast- he could always come up with half a dozen things to keep himself preoccupied, not even counting the things he could do to make sure things were running smoothly and efficiently with his patrons. If all else failed, even, he could go train in one of the back rooms, where there was always someone hanging around.
Regardless, he gave Keith a wink and sped away to collect the empty glasses from along the bar. As a whirl of air the patrons probably didn't even notice, he sped down the line and then jumped the clear end of the bar to get to the sink and washed them.
The whole process took approximately seventeen point two seconds. Not that he was counting. He jumped back over to the proper side of the bar, righted his hat and leaned against the end, grinning back at Keith, who hadn't moved from mixing more drinks.
"Thanks," Keith said, not quite meeting Peter's eyes even though his grin hadn't faded. "You didn't have to do that."
"I like to help." Peter told him, shrugging. "But I probably should get back to the door."
"When do you get off tonight?" Keith said in a jumble of words, as though he had been trying to get them out before Peter could take off. Peter hadn't had any intention of taking off before Keith responded anyway, but it was kind of sweet of him to make such an effort.
"I mean," Keith went on, more slowly. "I work until close, like always, but I know you and Gail stay later doing- whatever managerial things there are to do and whatnot."
"We're normally through about an hour after that. There's not really all that much managerial whatnot that has to be done at night."
Keith's smile grew more relaxed at the teasing, and he dumped several different drinks into different glasses and sent them off to their owners before responding.
"Do you want to have a drink, then?" he asked. Finally he turned his whole attention to Peter, who had taken to shredding a bit of napkin as he waited for the conversation to progress. He looked up, taking Keith in a bit more critically than usual. He hated being played.
"I would love to, sweets," he announced finally. Quick as ever, he got a running start to vault the bar, slid across its surface- too fast for the movement to register in any casual observer’s eye- and kissed Keith on the cheek. The kiss was slower, but only comparatively. Really it was only a peck and a grin, before he was off again.
No matter how quickly- or slowly, when he was holding back- Peter completed his tasks for the night, closing time always seemed to be a lifetime away. Handing out liability forms to first time patrons, filing the paper work, putting out a small fire, ferrying music requests, handing out keys to the training rooms- even sparring a bit with Wendy when she flew in for a visit did nothing to pass the time more quickly.
Finally, after the patrons had been ushered out and the janitorial staff had swept in, after Peter had been waylaid in the office by his sister, who wanted to talk about expanding, or spreading awareness, or her latest line of gene-friendly toys- he hadn’t been listening properly, anxious to be excused- and after she had finally waved him off to meet Keith, Peter was able to sidle up to the bar, with Gail’s words, “It’s about damn time, you’ve never been this slow about anything else,” ringing in his ears.
Sure enough, Keith was waiting for him on the opposite from normal side of the bar, his stool serving as a template for the circle of unmopped floor beneath it. He wore an expression that Peter was not really used to seeing. It was the same, almost shy look he had worn when he had thanked Peter earlier.
“Hey,” Keith said, smiling the shy expression away and pushing a drink down the bar so that it sat in front of the empty stool beside him.
“Hey yourself,” Peter replied. He was across the room, perching on the stool in an instant. For some reason at the same time, he had taken on Keith’s shyness as his own. He reached for the drink as a hand settled on his thigh.
He didn’t need alcohol to feel happy and alive, but Peter anticipated he would feel that way a lot more in the future, if he kept hanging around the bar.