Hello everyone!
This story will be about Yazoo, who works as a barwaiter on a cruise ship. It's a sequel to 'Anchoring Sucks', but to understand this fic it is not neccessary to read the previous one.
Some warnings from my side are neccessary though: weird fic in an AU, smut, bad language, creepiness, some violence and character death. That's it, enjoy! Reviews are highly appreciated. ^^
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„You're very much wanted."
„Hnn…?"
„Yes, I meant it. He wants you."
Nonchalantly, Yazoo looked up from cutting the fruits. Not minding to return the look, the Lead Bartender on board MS Seahorse Melody, Genesis Rhapsodos replaced the phone back onto the pantry's wall.
„The doctor just ordered a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc, with two glasses, delivered by your personal service to the medical centre."
Although he chosed his words meticuously, his disgust towards the creepy professor could be clearly understood through his tone. The bar wasn't even opened yet, not as the creepy fellow gave a shit about it. He knew exactly which number and when to dial: at this time the bar staff had to be already be in the pantry, preparing the mise en place for business hours, although not being too busy yet. It was an idle cruise anyway, the ship sailing only with half-house. Recent terrorist activities caused recession in the cruise industry, and the Seahorse Cruises had to cash in every gil possible to avoid serious loss of business.
Room service didn't belong to bar staff's duty, but it was no time to be picky about details like this. Too much fuss about rules would harm business, and anyway, they were almost done. Finishing the teatime service, which was always a pain in the ass for the bar staff, Genesis promised Yazoo a three hours long break in case he prepared everything for the later bar opening. Of course the barwaiter agreed, refraining also from changing his uniform. Therefore he was still wearing the traditional tail-coat with bow-tie, only having his shamefully worn-out white gloves replaced by rubbermaid ones. No guests could see what he was wearing or not wearing in the pantry anyway.
Yazoo put down the knife on the metallic counter, resting his lazy emerald gaze on the sharp blade.
„Shall I pick one from the winecellar?"
„No need to. Since the Professor tends to become a regular guest at bars where you work in, I'd ordered a few of his label for this cruise."
While explaining, he prepared the bottle with opener, bucket with ice and stander, glasses, check, cloth, and handed them over to the barwaiter, who took off his rubber gloves and dismissed them.
For some reason, the sight of the used, dirty gloves lying on top of the garbage made the tall bartender frown.
„Take care." He uttered shortly, returning quickly to his paperwork. Absent-mindedly, the silver-haired boy nodded, collected all belongings, and slipped the nifty little bottle-opener in his pocket.