A/N: Welcome to The Black Order bar, filled with plenty of booze, brawls, and occasional banging.
This fic is AU in more than a few ways. Namely, Allen is almost twenty, in college, and working at a bar with a bunch of hot, dangerous people. So he's more of a horndog than when we see him as 15 year-old adorable Allen Walker. I mean, he's still adorable in this, but a little less innocent. That's really the only caveat you need to consider before diving in. Tell me what you think, and hope you enjoy!
"You want me to do what?" Allen nearly dropped the crate of ice hoisted over his shoulder. The bloody thing was almost fifty pounds of slipperiness and condensation, and he had to readjust it to his other shoulder before looking up again at his manager.
Komui sighed and fiddled with the bridge of his glasses, as if impatient with this slow creature before him.
"I said," Komui repeated, "that I really need you to wear a skirt for a few days." At Allen's gobsmacked expression, Komui continued. "I know this isn't exactly what you signed up for," Komui said as water and sweat dripped down Allen's back, his black 'STAFF' shirt clinging to his chest and shoulders from the heat and exertion. "But Lou Fa just quit without giving any notice, and neither Lenalee or Fou can take over all of her shifts. It would just be until I could find a replacement, but I really do need this, Allen."
Allen finally gave up on the ice, realizing that this conversation was going to take more than a few passing moments. The plastic crate thunked on the bar floor. "So one of our hostesses quit, none of the girls can take over for tonight or any other this week, and your first thought was to come ask me?"
Kanda snorted from behind the bar. "From bar-back to hostess," the black-haired bartender remarked in a mocking tone.
"Sounds like some kind of demented barroom fairy tale, am I right?" Lavi, the other bartender, elbowed his coworker in a conspiratory way, but Kanda only scowled and moved away.
Allen Walker, 19 year-old bar-back and busboy, a college student in his first year and already possessing exorbitant student debt, leaned hard against the counter and wondered how his life had ended up this way.
Allen had been working for 'The Black Order' bar for about six weeks now, and was honestly surprised and impressed with himself that he had managed to survive with all of his limbs attached, both eyes, and his heart beating strong in his chest. Everyone who worked at the Black Order, and maybe even the bar itself, Allen was sure, was trying to kill him.
First of all, there was his maniac of a manager, Komui, a bespectacled MIT grad who in Allen's opinion had no business running a working class bar in the heart of downtown with his education, and whose hobbies included nursing an extensive sister-complex and inventing tiny robots and machines for "security purposes" that shot actual bullets at anyone not fast enough to disable the system.
The object of Komui's sister-complex was 21 year-old, bubbly, lovely Lenalee, who worked as hostess, bartender, expo, and waitress whenever needed. She was also the de facto manager whenever Komui wasn't around, and for all purposes his second-in-command, getting all the other workers into line easily with a clipboard and a wink.
She'd never outright tried to kill Allen, but she was deadly all the same. With her long pigtails, dark lashes and soft-lipped smiles, and sheer expanse of creamy, toned legs made visible by the short hostess skirts she wore, she was just guaranteed blood-loss waiting to happen. Through nosebleeds, or unplanned boners, or most of all Komui's threats.
Allen recalled one incident in which he had glimpsed Lenalee as she leaned over the bar counter in her skirt, the fabric rucked up so high that Allen could see just the edges of her generously curved ass and a scrap of pink lace that must of been the start of her panties. Or thong? He had wondered. Panties or thong? Just as his mouth had gone completely dry and the blood had begun rushing to his groin, Allen froze as he heard an unexpected voice right at the shell of his ear.
"Stare at my sister for even a nanosecond longer, and I will pluck your eyeballs from your head and stuff them down your throat."
So yeah. Lenalee in a whole manner of different ways presented a constant threat to his health.
Then there was Kanda, one of the senior bartenders at 'The Black Order.' He was somewhere in his twenties, Allen didn't know for sure, but clearly in the peak of health and physical condition. His work wear always consisted of tight-fitting muscle shirts that showed off every inch and ripple of his impressively muscled frame, and low slung pants or jeans that always exposed a sliver of a rigid six-pack or a jagged hip.
Allen would be lying to himself if he didn't admit to spending more than a few nights imagining those hips grinding against his when the hour was late and lonely. But Allen did refuse to admit it to anyone but himself.
Because it turned out that Kanda was a prick and a right bastard when dealing with anyone (and it seemed especially so when dealing with Allen) and never hesitated to remind Allen that he stayed in such good shape because he practiced with his katana every day. Euphemism notwithstanding (Allen had almost been gutted by the man when he'd raised one of his brows in a leering way) Kanda actually did in fact keep his sword with him at the bar. And Komui let him. And customers even found the blade-wielding at the bar somehow...appealing.
Okay, Allen could see how it was appealing, but not when the sword was raised at him. Allen knew from experience that Kanda would actually use the sword when pressed or annoyed, and it was only because of Allen's natural reflexes and extensive physical training that he'd ended up with sliced clothes instead of skin, and was absent a only few locks of white hair instead of fingers, limbs, and organs.
Kanda's sword-wielding — and his reputation for being not only adept at it but enthusiastic at displaying that talent — enabled him to work as a bouncer during late nights when their regular bouncer, Noise Marie, took time off.
But Kanda's primary job was being a bartender. Well, that and being gruff and cocky and generally an asshole to everyone around him. (For some reason, people seemed to love this, which pissed Allen off, especially since he kind of secretly found it hot.)
Lavi was an entirely different story. Where Kanda was bitter, smirking, and terse, Lavi was charming, smooth, and gregarious. The red-headed, eye-patched bartender was a riot of wry grins, insinuation, and devilish flirtation. His drinks were always made with an extra twist that differed from the offered choice, and he made a point of never leaving from a night shift without taking someone home with him, be it customer or coworker. Lavi got more phone numbers, propositions, and referrals than anyone else at the Black Order. His tip rake was always the highest of any night he worked.
Lavi had also, Allen figured, never outright tried to kill him. But there was still the issue that the bartender insisted on giving him countless end-of-shift free drinks every single night he worked, never mind that Allen was under-age. The drinks were always numerous and potent, and no matter how often Allen demurred, Lavi always managed to rile or cajole or sweet-talk him into it. At this point, Allen wasn't sure if Lavi was trying to seduce him or poison him.
Then there was Fou, part-waitress, part-bartender, whose bark and bite were equally lethal. And Miranda the server and kitchen expo whose general clumsiness never affected her but always endangered others with flying plate shards and boiling water and fallen food crates. And Bak, and Lou Fa, and Noise, and Chaoji, and Krory...Everyone who worked at or with 'The Black Order' bar had proved to be life-threatening in some way.
Allen had never met the owner of the esteemed and notorious bar at which he had worked for over a month, but going by the rumors and vague descriptions, Allen had genuine suspicions that Cross Marian may actually be a bona-fide mob-boss.
The Black Order was clearly dangerous, maybe even lethally so. Allen had survived so far, but this? Had it really come to this?
"What's going on?" Lenalee flounced over to where Allen was bracing himself against the bar, short skirt fluttering and pigtails bouncing, looking wonderful and illegal all in the same flowery breath. She turned to Komui when Kanda and Lavi said nothing. "Allen's going to be the new what?"
"Hostess," Allen croaked.
"Actually, beansprout, it's called a 'host.' Unless you're wearing the outfit...in which case, yeah, you're gonna be the new hostess."
"Kanda," Komui turned to the bartender. "Do you mind grabbing a spare hostess outfit?" Kanda disappeared into the back room.
Allen wheeled toward Komui desperately. "But...But. I'm a guy! I can't wear that—it's—"
"Ahh come on, Allen." Lavi flung his bar rag over his shoulder and waggled his brow in his approximation of a wink. "I'm sure you'll look just as cute as any of the other girls in it. I mean sure, maybe you're not, ah, as well-endowed as Lenalee—"
"—is that supposed to be a comment on my weight—"
"—what did you just say about my precious little sister—"
"Ow, geez! Sorry! Christ…No need for the clipboard, Lena."
Kanda came back from the back room to swing a fresh hostess outfit over the bar top between them. It consisted of an abominably shortened school girl skirt, and a tight, low-cut shirt bearing the Black Order logo.
Kanda broke his traditional scowl to grace Allen with one of his vicious smirks. "See, moyashi, there's no need to get all panicky about it. You'll look just as cute in the little skirt as all the other pretty girls."
Allen whirled around and seethed: "I swear to God, you girly-haired prick—"
"Excuse me? Girly-haired? You—"
Komui broke in. "Enough. Allen, the skirt's only until I find a replacement. And there's really no one else. Krory can take over your bar-back duties. And before you ask, no, Krory cannot be the hostess replacement." Komui cut Allen off before he could protest. "Krory, unfortunately, is not nearly so…" He seemed to grasp for the right word.
"'Hot'?" Lavi offered. Komui scowled at him while Lenalee chuckled in what Allen hoped was agreement. He also tried his best not to feel nervous and tingly and flattered at the red-head's opinion of him.
"Personable, is what I would have chosen to say," Komui huffed. Kanda scoffed at this, and Allen glared at the man.
"It's just…" Allen began another feeble round of protests, even though he knew his defenses were crumbling. No matter how Allen wished he didn't have to wear that ridiculous skirt, he did work for the Black Order, and the terms of his employment and nature of his student debt left him with little other choice. Komui cut in with his final trump card.
"You'll be paid the hostess rate, and you'll be tipped out every night for your trouble." After a pause. "And you'll get two free shift meals."
That did it. Hostesses made way more than bar-backs in a flat, hourly rate, but usually never got part of the gathered tips at the end of the night. If Allen did this, he'd be making more hourly in addition to his tips, and he wouldn't have to beg their cook, Jerry, for extra food at the end of the night, since he was only given the one free meal at the end of his shift and his voracious appetite was never satisfied with just the one.
"Do we have a deal?" Komui asked, brow raised.
Allen tried not to notice how Lenalee and Lavi were leaning forward with interest, and how Kanda was pretending not to listen or care how Allen would answer.
Allen gave a great sigh. "Yes, we have a deal."
Komui nodded, and Lenalee gave a cute little clap. Lavi whooped and said something about making sure to come in early the next few days to appreciate the view when he wasn't so busy. Kanda sneered and muttered something crude about short skirts and exposed balls.
And Allen looked up towards the ceiling and whispered, "This place is going to kill me."
A/N: Whelp! There it is. I'm hoping to turn this into a multi-chapter thing, but you guys have to let me know if you'd be interested. I'm not really sure if the DGM Bar AU has been done before, but this is my version of it. The rating is currently T, but it could always change up to M. I don't know, again, you guys would have to let me know based on this chapter and what you'd want to see in the future. Please review, and thanks for reading!
(Also, my starting of this story does NOT mean that The Earl's Musician has been put on hiatus. I'm working on the next chapter of that too.)
