Chapter Text
Splash. Crash. Bang.
Wu Ming grumbled inwardly to himself as he rewashed the dishes that were already clean for the third time this evening. He practically threw every single dish around like they were indestructible— even if they were plastic that would break eventually.
The water in the three-bin metal sink was freshly hot, and it burned his hands. At this point, Wu Ming was numb to it, as was the natural way of things considering he'd been working at a fast-food chain for the past year.
When he started out working the graveyard shift— or as he liked to call it, "the stoner college kid shift"— Wu Ming would be closing with a manager, or with another coworker. As it was, after a year of showing he was honestly better off working by himself, Wu Ming was alone.
As he tossed the last dish into the dishwasher and pressed the button to start the cycle, Wu Ming groaned loudly. "I'm so fucking bored! Why are we even open this late?!"
Wu Ming had taken to a habit of talking to himself— what else was he supposed to do at two a.m. on a Thursday morning?
Rubbing his face, Wu Ming sauntered over to the break room, flopping down onto the shitty couch in the corner. He ripped off his headset, setting it on the table before leaning fully back into the lumpy cushions.
Covered in patches, this couch and Wu Ming had become incredibly familiar as of late. It had been subject to some of his mid-shift naps, which were always abruptly interrupted by the DING that screeched into his ear every time someone would pull into the drive-thru.
Wu Ming began to bounce his knee. He wanted something to happen. Because he had switched off the annoying lobby music, the store was so quiet. Not even the gurgling from the draining sinks or the quiet humming from the running grills could cut through the way the silence gritted against his bones. Even if Wu Ming played music, he knew his already dwindling patience couldn't handle the ads that played every 5 minutes.
Just as he was about to consider possibly running out to his car to grab a CD to pop into the store stereo, his headset dinged quietly from where it sat on the table. Rolling his eyes, Wu Ming sat up and put it back on, pressing the button on the side of his headset.
Speaking in the most monotone voice he could muster, which wasn't difficult, Wu Ming greeted the customer. "What can I get you?"
Silence.
Wu Ming frowned, and then glanced up at the security footage just above the drive-thru register. He could barely see the man standing there, but he wasn't in a car. Skin barely illuminated by the streetlamp, Wu Ming could see that he had dark, chin-length hair that was a mess. He wore a light sweater and basketball shorts, and he seemed to be hugging himself.
Then, the man finally spoke: "Can… Can I have a chicken sandwich please?"
Wu Ming's heart squeezed. The man's voice was a bit raspy from crying or otherwise, but it was incredibly calming to listen to. Most people didn't even have the manners to say 'please' whenever he would work the drive-thru. He sounded so sad— Wu Ming didn't know if he could tell him to leave.
Taking a breath, he pressed the button again. "… Just come up to the lobby."
"Okay."
The man walked down the drive-thru lane. It took awhile, but they finally passed by the window, and Wu Ming got a much better look at him.
Smooth skin, hair that was gorgeous even if it was messy, and beautiful almond eyes that glinted yellow in the lamplight. His features were sad, steely, and his eyebags were deeper than most he'd seen, but Wu Ming felt instantly entranced.
Shaking his head, he muttered a, "get a hold of yourself", and started frying the chicken patties fresh. Either way, even if the guy turned out to be a jerk in the end, Wu Ming might be able to postpone it by getting him something cooked-to-order.
Wu Ming switched on a few of the lights for the lobby, but purposefully not enough to make it seem like the lobby was actually open (because it wasn't). Quickly striding to the door, he unlocked it just in time for the man to come around the corner.
Wu Ming swallowed. Not only was this man pretty and incredibly handsome, he was about a head shorter than he was. Not that this detail was particularly unique— most people Wu Ming had encountered were shorter than him.
However, some kind of spell had been cast on him by this lone customer. Wu Ming became so much more self-conscious than he had been in years, like he needed to impress this man, for whatever reason. Wu Ming could feel how gangly his limbs were. Even when they would get in the way of him trying to sleep in the back seat of his car, he would be annoyed, but not entirely insecure about them.
As Wu Ming locked the door behind them, the person glanced back and raised his eyebrows.
Wu Ming put his hands up in reassurance. "It's just so no other customers come in. You can even unlock it yourself when you're done."
The man frowned, and then nodded. Wu Ming fought down a shiver at that scrutinizing gaze. He walked back behind the counter again, rushing to the kitchen to take the patties out of the fryer to let them cool before returning to the register.
Wu Ming rang him up in silence, stealing glances at the man that made him question his existence by simply standing there. Completely transfixed, Wu Ming even watched as the man dug out his wallet, nearly licking his lips as those pretty fingers sifted through the bills to find a few singles.
What was up with him?
"Uh… Here."
Wu Ming glanced up, realizing the man had been holding out the bills to him. "Oh— sorry."
Taking them and practically shoving them in the drawer, he crumpled the receipt in his palm. "I'll make those really quick. Just a sec."
The man nodded and stood there, staring off into space at the rest of the vacant dining room.
Wu Ming made the sandwiches quickly, but was sure to make them better than he ever had before. Why? He wasn't sure himself, really. The man had only been a little kinder to him— why did that matter. Not to mention, he was insanely attractive, and Wu Ming was shocked at himself for being able to admit that. Was that what he was, or was Wu Ming just appreciating beauty?
Once he had the sandwiches in hand, the man leaned against the counter and slid to the floor, unwrapping the paper and eating in silence. Not having anything better to do, Wu Ming leaned on the counter and glanced down at him, watching him eat.
The man's hands were pretty, even as they were clutching a McChicken as if it was the last thing he would ever eat. Maybe not as morbid as that, but clearly this guy was going through something that upset him enough to come to a McDonald's at two in the morning.
Wu Ming's heart sunk a little. He waited until the man had devoured the two sandwiches before saying anything. Just as he mustered the courage, the man glanced back at him with a pair of gorgeous, amber eyes.
"Is your bathroom unlocked?"
Wu Ming blinked. "Uh— yeah?"
"'Kay."
With that, the man stood up and walked around the corner, not bothering to dust himself off.
Wu Ming's eyes shamelessly darted to this guy's ass in those loose basketball shorts. An image of what it would be like to grope it flashed in his mind, and Wu Ming squeaked, rushing behind the counter to hide by the milkshake dispenser.
WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! WHAT WAS HAPPENING?!
Wu Ming was ace— he didn't find anyone attractive like this. Nobody who he had admitted to himself was pretty got him this riled up, and certainly had never elicited that train of thought. Sure, he'd thought about it before, but always rejected the idea of actually going through with anything.
What was so different about this one McChicken guy?
Several minutes passed of Wu Ming freaking out before the sound of the bathroom door opening made his ears perk up. As he came around the corner, the man had put half his hair up and had clearly splashed his face with water, as his eyebrows looked a bit damp.
"Can you unlock the door?"
Wu Ming nodded, doing as he asked, watching as the man walked off into the night.
Only as Wu Ming shut the door behind him did he realize that he had only charged for one sandwich instead of two.