Chapter 5: Working Woes
September 16th, 2014
"Geez Grim, you look terrible."
"Hi. That's not my name."
"Hi. I don't care."
Grimmjow reflected, with a trace of regret, that had he not resisted the nickname so strongly when Rukia first used it, she probably wouldn't insist on calling him by it at every available opportunity.
"Did something happen last night?" She asked as they got to work.
"Uh, no, why?"
"Well like I said, you look terrible. Did something keep you up? You two get in a fight?"
"No, I'm just tired."
Rukia crossed her arms, frowning.
"You know, Grim, I knew you hadn't had a real job before, but I wasn't expecting you to be such a bitch about this."
"Hey!"
"Go ahead. Tell me I'm wrong."
Grimmjow grumbled but just turned away, straightening out a display. The store wasn't open yet, and while they weren't the only ones opening, the others were in the back or the other end of the store. He had asked to take opening shifts, since that often coincided with Ichigo's schedule. The man didn't have a very consistent day-to-day or week-to-week schedule, but usually opened, and the mall was on his way.
"Ichigo must give you so much hell over this."
"I actually regret getting that coffee maker sometimes. I'd have an excuse otherwise."
"But alas, you did buy it. With my money. So I'm going to keep calling you a wimp."
"I've lifted weights bigger than you."
"And I've opened for 5 days in a row. You're on your third."
It was a doomed argument from the start, and he'd known it. He just enjoyed fencing with her.
There wasn't much to argue; he'd never had a real job before, and it showed. The work he was doing wasn't intense, but the hours were long, and it would take time for his sleep schedule to adjust.
It certainly helped give him some perspective. It was easy to see how Ichigo was working himself into the ground. If the work itself wasn't too hard, the people added onto it certainly made it worse.
He wondered, idly, if he'd ever been someone's nightmare customer. He didn't think so, but Grimmjow had grown up rather rich, and even his limited experience here told him that the more money someone had to spend, the worse they seemed to be about it.
"Grim?" Rukia said. He started slightly, turning to face her. "I said we can take a break, until the store opens."
"Oh. Sorry. Spaced out."
She waved a lazy hand at him.
"Don't worry about it." She leaned against a display. "You know, most people don't dive headfirst into this."
"What do you mean?"
"Opening shifts right away, taking so many shifts right away…" she shrugged. "I know you want money, but you need to give yourself time to adjust."
Grimmjow didn't answer her. He knew she was right, but he couldn't stand their living situation, and he'd rather be put earning money than sleeping on the couch.
"Have you thought about how you're gonna pay him?" Rukia asked.
"How?" He echoed.
"This is a minimum wage job." There was a gentle note in her voice. "Between rent and utilities and groceries-you aren't gonna have much money to give for the medical bills. And you need to keep some money in your account so you don't overdraw, and it's always a good idea to keep money in savings and-"
"I get it! You can stop now."
Rukia's smile was somewhere between teasing and pitying. "Grim, you've never lived like this before. We get that. It's not easy. But-are you worried Ichigo's gonna think you aren't serious about paying him back, or something?"
The question was a good one, and Grimmjow wasn't entirely sure of the answer.
"I just...can never tell what's going on in his head." Grimmjow stuffed his hands into the pockets of his new work pants. "He's been so nice and...I guess I'm just bitter. Hard to see why anyone would act like that, without some ulterior motive."
Rukia looked thoughtful for a moment, contemplating what Grimmjow had said.
"Would you say you two are friends?" She asked. Grimmjow frowned at the question.
"Well...yeah."
She smiled. "Then I guess he got something out of the deal then, didn't he?"
September 18th, 2014
Grimmjow stretched out as much as he could on the couch, which wasn't much. There was barely room for the two of them to sit side-by-side comfortably, which he couldn't help but think meant that the couch wasn't very good at it's job.
He flipped through the few channels offered in the complex's very limited cable package, desperate to find something to keep himself entertained and awake.
Ichigo was late.
That in itself was not strange. There was no set time to expect Ichigo back on the rare occasions he closed-it was dependent on how busy the store had been, and how much work was left to do. But it was getting late, and Ichigo hadn't called.
He was sure it was nothing, that Ichigo just hadn't thought about it or maybe his phone was dead. He'd undoubtedly burst through the door, exhausted and pissed, with an improbable and bizarre story about how someone had managed to spectacularly fuck something up that he, of course, had wound up responsible for fixing, as well as another half-dozen stories about crazy customers. It was something of a daily ritual for them, regardless of when Ichigo got off, and had left Grimmjow feeling like a bit of a housewife, before he'd gotten hired, staying at home cooking and cleaning to pass time, listening to Ichigo talk about work…
It was oddly domestic, but in a way he didn't really like, and it made him uncomfortable for other reasons besides.
Really, if either of us was gonna be the wife, it would obviously be Ichigo.
He banished the unwelcome thought from his mind. Ichigo was a friend, a benefactor, and had saved Grimmjow's life. It was easy, for someone in his position, to confuse the feelings that came from acts like for something else, and he didn't want to.
Just because he was sure he was absolutely right about the hypothetical situation didn't mean it was appropriate to think about.
He flicked through the available channels again, before turning off the TV in disgust. He wasn't surprised they didn't have good TV, like he'd watched with his mother, but they didn't even have bad TV. What was he supposed to do, watch the news? Like hell.
Ichigo didn't pay for cable, since he didn't watch TV, and failed to see the point in paying for it. That would be fine, but the longer Grimmjow stayed with him, the more he suspected that Ichigo didn't do anything. The man did not seem to have any hobbies, and his defining character trait seemed to be being a workaholic. Grimmjow was used to having a bunch of technology around to distract him, which he could hardly fault Ichigo for not having, but even without that, he liked to cook, and work out. Ichigo's interests were a mystery.
He glanced at the clock again and threw his head back onto the arm of the couch, groaning. It was almost an hour and a half after the store had closed. It could have just been an unexpectedly busy day, but the later it got, the less it seemed likely. He could've gotten a flat tire, or that old car could've given out on him completely. Maybe someone had been skulking outside the store, waiting for them to leave, and-
He threw a pillow over his face, trying to block out the negative thoughts. Ichigo was fine.
Well, actually no, he was probably miserable and angry, but physically he was-well, tired, but otherwise fine. Grimmjow would let himself worry in another half hour. Until then, he needed to distract himself. But he didn't know what to do.
Well, he could always...but no. With the way his life had more and more begun to resemble a low-budget sitcom, the minute he stuck his hands down his pants would be the minute Ichigo chose to burst through the door. Both of them had been fine keeping their private business private without ever really discussing it, and he had no desire to bring that conversation up.
Ichigo showed up nearly 10 minutes later. He didn't actually slam the door open or closed, but his expression was thunderous. He walked past Grimmjow without a word, over to the table, where he threw his apron down. Then, after a moment, picked it up and threw it down again. Then he collapsed into a chair and threw his head down on the bundled cloth.
"That great of a day, huh?"
Ichigo groaned in response.
"Did a dinosaur attack the restaurant?"
"I wish. If it had destroyed the damn place I'd get a couple weeks away."
"...Did enough people with the combined weight of a dinosaur attack the restaurant?"
Ichigo sighed.
"Right before closing. And the stupid manager sent our third home right before."
"Are you not a manager?"
Ichigo snorted. "Hell no. I have enough shit to deal with. Angry customers aren't worth the pay raise."
Grimmjow, not sitting up, studied Ichigo for several seconds. "Have you thought about looking for another job?"
Ichigo raised his head to look at him properly. He looked tired.
"I've thought about it, sure, but I can't."
"Why not?"
"Because I don't have a college degree. There's no where I could go that would pay more than minimum wage, and I wouldn't get the hours I am now. I can't afford it."
"But you can." Grimmjow said. Ichigo frowned, and he elaborated. "You don't have to quit your job right away just to go look for another one. And I'm getting paid now, so we're splitting the rent, and you said that you've been saving money on groceries since I'm here." He paused. "And, you know, you're buying actual groceries, instead of a 100 cartons of cup noodles."
"There's nothing wrong with cup noodles," Ichigo defended.
"There's something wrong with buying a bulk order of a 100 of them."
"I have never done that!" Ichigo declared, turning away from him. "...while living here."
"I heard that."
"That was the joke."
Grimmjow snorted, and Ichigo turned back to him, grinning. "But seriously, I haven't. I'm not that bad."
Grimmjow dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "I'm being serious too. Tell them to cut your hours back at work, go look for another job, find one, and take it. You hate that place, and they treat you like shit."
"They won't like me asking to cut my hours back."
Grimmjow grinned, knowing he'd won. "Tell them to eat shit and deal with it. But in a nice way, that doesn't get you fired."
Ichigo raised an eyebrow at him. "Right…" He shrugged a little, dropping his head back onto his bundled apron. "Still, it's not like it's gonna happen right away. Unless you know the Job Wizard?"
"Job Fairies, actually." Grimmjow corrected him. "You introduced us a few weeks ago."
He could just make out Ichigo's smile from where he sat. "Point." He mumbled. "Now its time to sleep."
"Not gonna change? Or...go to the bedroom?"
"Mm-mm."
"Just gonna sit there and pass out?"
"Mm-hm."
Grimmjow rolled his eyes and got up, walking over to the other man, bending down, wrapping an arm around Ichigo's waist, and standing up.
Ichigo yelped as Grimmjow stood up, now firmly secure over the blue-haired man's shoulder.
"What-NO, Grim you put me down right now!"
"Tables are for sitting, beds are for sleeping." Grimmjow sang, ignoring the other man's struggles. He unceremoniously tossed Ichigo onto the bed, not hiding his smirk at the other man's outrage and embarrassment, enjoying the picture of Ichigo on the bed, disheveled and beet-red.
"Never do that again!"
"Don't ask me to make promises so I won't have to lie~"
"I will murder you!"
Grimmjow laughed as he turned around and left, closing the door behind him, the image of Ichigo on the bed floating around in his mind.
Inappropriate thoughts.
But fun ones.
