Author's Note: I have no idea where this came from. Late night musings while drinking iced coffee I suppose. It was meant to be short and sweet but Spotmuse turned it a little sour. Also, if you squint really, really hard you might see slash. But that is entirely up to you :-) Thanks for reading!
"Jack." Race tried to shift the whipped cream containers to a more comfortable position. "Jack!"
"Hmm?"
"Get your fine ass off the fridge so I can stock these," Race practically screeched as the circulation in his fingers was getting cut off.
Jack slowly capped his Sharpie, set down the cup he was doodling on, and moved to one side without even bothering to offer any assistance. Race nearly yanked the fridge door off its hinges and threw the whipped creams onto the bottom shelf, feeling satisfied when he heard a loud crash as the metal cans bounced off one another.
"Feel better?" Jack grinned while picking up a fresh cup and beginning another doodle.
"When the hell is Skittery gonna learn to finish the shit he starts?" Race asked with a huff. Jack only shrugged. "And stop writing your phone number on the cups. We're getting complaints."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Doubt it. I haven't had one complaint, thankyouverymuch."
"That's 'cause you're never here to hear them," Race argued.
"I'm here now."
"It's a miracle."
"By the way, I don't think you should schedule Spot for register anymore."
"Why not?"
Race followed Jack's gaze toward the register where Spot stood leaning back away from the counter, arms crossed and a signature smirk on his face. Two teenage girls were chirping away while Spot appeared to be doing his best to turn the phrase 'if looks could kill' into reality.
"So, um, do you have that thing we saw on Yahoo? The secret menu thing?" one of the girls asked.
Spot began to do a perfect imitation of the Cheshire Cat.
"A secret menu?" he asked the girl.
She pulled a phone out and held it out for Spot. "See? It's right there on Tumblr."
Race's heart began to pound against his chest as he made his way toward the register area.
Spot beckoned to the girl, his blue eyes glittering wickedly. "Look up there. Do you see a secret fu—"
"Spot!" Race interrupted as he hip-checked the smaller boy out of the way. Over his shoulder he ordered, "Go help Jack with drinks."
Race wondered what kind of good karma he had earned since Spot simply clicked his tongue piercing in annoyance and slouched off toward the end of the bar. But Race soon realized that, after taking the order, he'd also have to make the drinks because god knew what Spot would end up putting into the cups and Jack had already wandered off to flirt with some co-ed. It was turning out to be a day from hell.