Words didn't seem to come out quite right with this one and I feel it's a little rushed, but having writers block there's not much else I can do with it. Bear with me and enjoy the first chapter.


"Eren, why the hell are you standing there like that? If there's no customers at least grab a rag and start wiping down those counters. They aren't gonna do it themselves, you know," the blond man said, walking past Eren and pointing a finger at a spot on the counter to cement his point.

Mike was a good man, and a great boss. Without him, Eren would be out of a job and he would have to put up with his nagging sister all day long and hear her complain about their struggles and misfortune. He was the first one to be this patient with him and he put up with having to tell Eren what to do all the time. It wasn't a small thing, it was a big problem. He needed to be guided every step of the way. 'Eren, do this, Eren do that.' Every minute of every day. He'd been to multiple psychiatrists, but none of them could get through to him about needing to start doing things on his own without guidance. He had no decision making skills whatsoever.

So, here he was, scrubbing diligently at a sticky substance stuck to the counter, but he couldn't seem to get it off. He huffed.

Mike walked past again and handed him a knife.

"Use that," he said and disappeared again around to the other side of the bar, which was quite large.

The bar space was a large circular shape, and at the center of it a mountain of mixers and alcoholic beverages stacked neatly in rows nearly reaching the ceiling. To reach them, one needed to use a 4 tiered stepping stool, but thankfully, the bottles that were used the least were placed at the top, along with extra bottles of flavored mixtures. The establishment itself was large and it was nice, almost extravagant in an odd sort of way; black velvet couches along the walls with low, painted steel tables for the regular hookah enthusiast, abstract art along the walls, and other little things. The walls were two-toned; the top half a dark blue, the bottom half black. Electric, blue light sconces lined the walls for mood lighting. The floor was black marble with blue LEDs lining the outskirts and main walkway to the bar. The back wall of the bar wasn't really a wall at all, rather it was a large salt-water tank that gave off it's own lighting. Tiny lamps adorned the bar's counter tops, but they gave off enough light to aid the ultra violet light that circled the mountain of drinks above his head. Everything held a blue hue. Being able to see without a regular light was a must in order to work functionally here.

Eren took the butter knife and worked on prying off the gunk, finally scraping it to oblivion and tossing the offending substance into the trash. He washed off the knife and placed it back into a basket under the counter. Releasing a sigh, he stood there awkwardly, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers on them absentmindedly before reminding himself with an agitated groan that he forgot to finish wiping down the entire counter.

"I can't do anything..." he grouched, scrubbing with more intensity than he intended. Too busy attacking the counter with a rag, he didn't notice a man come in and take a seat a little ways off, just out of sight of his peripheral vision.

"Oi, brat, even for my standards you're killing that counter."

Eren jumped at the deep voice and whipped his head around to face the stranger, his eyes widening at the short man with a handsome undercut and eyes of pure steel. His mouth was set in a thin line and he had his cheek propped on a fist in a bored manner. He wore a deep crimson button up that cuffed at the elbows with a black vest and a neatly placed dark grey cravat.

What a stunningly attractive image. The younger man's mouth went dry and his jaw was slack. He heard Mike's voice from around the bend.

"Ask for his order, Eren!"

Eren blushed profusely and hurried over, grabbing his notepad and pen from his waist apron. The smallest of smirks appeared on the man's lips and disappeared just as quickly.

"I-I'm sorry about that, uh, what can I get for you?" His voice quavered and he shifted his weight awkwardly from foot to foot.

He disregarded his question momentarily. "Do you behave this way with all of your customers, shitty brat?"

"What? Oh, n-no, I'm sorry, sir," he stammered, his blush deepening. All he wanted to do was smash a glass bottle over his head in this moment and get away from this embarrassment that was beginning to drown him. Usually, or rather, never, did he act like this with just any handsome stranger that walked in. They never fazed him in that way. But the one currently staring at him with a hard gaze was confusing him to no end.

"Ugh, don't call me that, at least not now," he said, a glimmer of something pooling there in those orbs. "Call me Levi."

"L-Levi, right, um, so what can I get for you?"

"Manhattan," he said simply. "Preferably with bourbon."

"Anything to eat, si-, uh Levi?" Man this was proving to be harder than he thought.

"Just the drink, but keep my tab open." Levi handed him his card and he took it with a quick nod, turning around and pocketing his notepad since there was no need for it.

He grabbed the bourbon, sweet vermouth, bitters, shaker and stirring utensil. He filled the shaker with ice and measured in the bitters first, pouring the small amount over the ice and giving it a shake before pouring out most of the rest. The ice only needed to be coated. Too much bitters and it was a ruined drink. Filing the shaker with the other two ingredients, he gave it a stir and strained it into a cocktail glass straight. Two olives skewered onto a small plastic toothpick and it was done.

He carefully walked the drink over and placed it atop a small napkin.

"Enjoy, sir!"

"Brat, what the hell did I tell you about just using my damn name?" Eren flushed and the man picked up his drink by the stem and took a dainty sip before looking at it with a raised brow, then looked at the teen. "Hate to admit it, but this is the best Manhattan I've ever fucking had. Good job, brat."

Eren beamed at the praise. Even though he was useless in all other aspects of his life, he knew how to make a good drink. He had been making drinks for his father when he was younger and would occasionally get yelled at for making it wrong, so he worked until he got it right to please him. When he turned 21 he decided to get his bartending license and soon enough he was applying for this nice bar/hookah joint down the road from his small apartment. For a whole year, he had successfully impressed the owner, Mike, never mind the blatant problem he had with having to be told what to do constantly. Because of a shortage in money and this fact, college just wasn't in the cards right now.

No more words were spoken and Eren stood off to the side looking around the bar absentmindedly. He looked at his watch. It was getting late and a rush of customers would be coming in soon, but until then he didn't know what to do. He wanted to keep looking at the handsome face to his right, but didn't want to be caught staring. He risked a glance anyway, just a quick one, but when his eyes moved they met grey and he shivered. That man, Levi, was staring intently at him. They were smoldering ashen coals that pierced him in all the right ways and he had to look away first. He knew, though, that he was still staring. He could almost feel it.

His train of thought was interrupted when Mike came around the corner with a dirty rag over his shoulder and he could have sworn he saw Levi make a face out of the corner of his eye.

"Alright, by now you should know what to do, but I'm nice enough to come over here and tell you again." Eren tensed at those words. Damn, he felt stupid. He didn't actually remember at all. "Turn on the radio to our set playlist, get some music going on in here, make sure the lights outside are turned on for the evening and for god sakes tie your shoe." He threw the dirty rag into a bucket under the counter and walked away around the bend, whistling all the way. Eren sighed and bent down to tie his shoe.

A small cough came from behind him and he hurried to tie up before straightening himself and glancing over his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," came the terse reply, his glass almost empty. "Another drink will do just fine, though."

The man was now looking away from him and he almost felt himself droop over that fact, but he shook himself and walked out through a swinging panel to turn on the lights outside. Next, he turned on the radio to its proper station and made sure the volume was loud enough to be heard over a crowd, but quiet enough not to be too distracting. This wasn't a nightclub after all, simply a lounge.

Making his way back to the other side of the panel, he made Levi another drink and presented it to him on a clean napkin, forgetting about the dirty one by his empty glass as he took it to put in a bin under the counter. Mike had been busy bustling about trying to make sure everything was in order and as he passed by, he hurriedly spit out, "Throw away his napkin, Eren!"

"Fuck my life..." Eren went back to where Levi sat and reached out to grab his napkin, only for his wrist to be caught in a tight hold. He gasped and glanced up into eyes that were darkened by the dim lighting, but what he saw there made him pause in fighting the hold.

Lust.

"Shitty brat, do you need to be told what to do at every turn?" His voice was deep, but it was commanding, and it was hot. For the love of all things holy, was his voice like molten lava, and he didn't register that he had been insulted until he blinked a few times, but it went ignored. That hand; long, slim fingers and slim wrist... His eyes slowly crawled up his form. His forearm was extremely toned and he could only imagine what his biceps looked like. Farther up were his broad shoulders, his neck, his strong jaw, perfect lips, small nose, and finally...those eyes, shadowed by his perfectly combed, black hair.

He felt his pants tighten and he gulped. This wasn't seriously happening was it? Was this a dream? Because god forbid if anyone woke him up now.

He inhaled his cologne, and he didn't know how to describe it, but the alluring, dark scent sent him spiraling into a hazy lust himself. Oh God, he needed to stop, he was at work. This man was drawing him in and he didn't want it to stop.

Levi made up his mind for him and released his wrist, fingers feathering his own before completely pulling away with a smirk.

"Better take care of that customer that's been sitting there waiting, brat," he said huskily and went back to nursing his drink.

Eren nearly stumbled away from him and hurried over to the other customer, completely forgetting about his napkin once more.


The night dragged on and Eren was rushing to and fro with taking orders and making drinks, handing out food to the patrons seated at the bar. A few waiters and waitresses had come in to take care of the rest of the people lingering about the large space. The different hookah scents invaded his nostrils, but by now he was used to this. Mike worked the other side of the bar and only came around when he needed a bottle he didn't already have over there. It was packed tonight.

He spared a few glances over to Levi here and there, noticing him watching with interest as Mike occasionally barked at him for this or that and continuously ordering more drinks. That man had to have a tolerance of steel, because he was making his fifth drink now and he still looked completely sober.

He hurried over and ignored the boisterous laughter from the other side of the bar, his brows knitted together in concentration and his jaws clenched tight. He set the drink down, forgoing the new napkin this time around.

"Relax, brat, you look like you're shitting your pants."

Lovely.

"How about you get your ass behind this bar and start dealing with these rowdy people," he snapped and Levi was taken aback by his tone, eyes widening only a small fraction, but Eren caught it. He chuckled. "Thought so."

His expression darkened. "Fucking shitty brat, talk to me like that again and I might as well bend you over this bar and spank you right here and now."

It was Eren's turn to look shocked and he hurried away with heat crawling up his neck and a smirking Levi staring after him. The nerve of that man!

But...he never said he didn't enjoy it and the image of getting spanked by him occupied his thoughts as he worked.

Another hour passed and he was exhausted, the crowd finally lightening up and now few people were scattered throughout and cashing in on their tabs for the evening. By now, it was probably almost 1 in the morning and he still had another 2 hours here. He wondered if that guy would ever leave. He had been here since 8.

Finishing up with the last of two customers at the bar, he released a heavy sigh and strode over to Levi, who was finishing up his drink.

"Would you like to order the whole bar?" Eren teased and leaned on the counter, intentionally creating a dip in his back with a shy smile. He had really come to like this Levi guy and he hoped he would see more of him in the future, name calling aside. Though, being called 'brat' didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. It was rather endearing.

Grey eyes raked his form from ass to face and it was quite obvious he was doing it with the way Eren snickered behind a hand.

"See something interesting?"

Levi scoffed. "Just cash me out, brat, I don't need to see the bill."

With a small smile, Eren pushed away from the counter and went to swipe his card on his outstanding bill. Those drinks weren't cheap by any means. He ripped the receipt from the machine and sauntered back over to hand it to him, almost sad to see him standing from his seat. He was about a half head shorter than him, but his domineering presence was more than enough to make up for his short stature. The brunet liked it.

"What days do you work?" he asked casually, fixing his cravat and pulling down his vest that had ridden up in the time he spent sitting down.

Eren tipped his head to the side with a shy smile. "Umm, Tuesday to Saturday, so I'll be here tomorrow."

"Good." Levi winked at him with a smirk and it sent delicious chills down his spine. He had to stop himself from lunging at him from over the counter and tackling him to the floor because shit, that man was going to stop his heart. Levi turned to leave.

"See you later, brat," he said over his shoulder and walked out the door.