“how is it you always know what i need, huh?” is giving shaymien :’)

(this turned into coffeeshop shayne x visual merchandiser damien au) (prompt from here)

~

Initially, Shayne never understood the purpose of opening hours before the rest of the mall. It seemed like a waste of time, resources, and payroll. Business was slow in the early hours, their only customers were usually the elderly people who walked laps around the stores to get their steps in. The more openers he worked, though, he soon realized how early some of the retail workers got there.

It was free entertainment to hear the groups of employees come in, complaining about a recent shitty customer or bad judgment call that corporate made, open to his ears without the concern of the general public able to hear. He’d inadvertently learned a lot of buzzwords that way, the names of some of the higher ups at the stores he’d been going to since he was a teenager, and had a better understanding about how horrible the retail industry treats their employees.

The slower hours allowed him time in between to study his college textbooks and chat with frequent visitors, one of which he had become much more acquainted with.

Shayne could hear the telltale sound of the store gate creaking upwards, then a minute later closing back down, along with the jingling of keys.

“Shayney days and Mondays!” Damien greeted. The lanyard of his store’s badge repeatedly hit his stomach as he walked in.

“Good morning,” Shayne said in a yawn. Once his eyes fully opened back up, he could see Damien giggling, cursing his body for distracting him from the sweet sound.

He went over to the computer, pressing buttons to start a new order of drinks in the system.

“Who’s all here today?” Shayne asked.

Damien sat in a stool at the counter, rubbing his temples.

“Uhh, me, Keith, Amanda, Courtney, and…”

“Let me guess. TWB?”

Damien sighed heavily, nodding and looking up at Shayne.

“The Wicked Bitch of the West,” they both whispered in unison, trying to hide their laughter.

“You gotta talk to Ian about that, man,” Shayne said, putting in the orders from each employee he’d memorized. “Wait—Amanda likes whipped cream, right?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” Damien said, “And yeah, I know. Ironically, I’ve been working so much lately, but just haven’t had a chance to talk to him about TWB. And I really need to, next week he’s supposed to go over to the Central location to help them with their corporate visit. As if we need any of our employees taken away to prep for ours.”

Shayne nodded, having Damien check the screen to make any corrections to the drink orders. He hesitated before having Damien pay, tacking on a cookie to the order, then overriding the price of the treat to zero.

“Twenty one forty five,” Shayne said, that number ingrained into his mind, as it had become tradition for Damien to come in most mornings during the week.

Damien usually only had to do the 6AM shifts every couple months. Part of him dreaded it, but his passion for wanting to become a better manager and leader kept him going—the drive the man had despite all of his complaints was something else.

He started talking about his recent turmoil with his dreaded boss, the highest authority over the department he loved so much unfortunately was the source of most of his recent problems. Shayne listened and nodded, flipping through the collective bills Damien had handed over then sticking them in the cash drawer. He’d have to remember to make up the difference for the cookie later on.

“Like why the fuck would I lift an already heavy shelf and keep the boots on it? Is she fucking nuts?” Damien griped, watching Shayne work to prepare each coffee.

“That’s crazy,” Shayne answered, “but another great example to bring up to your store manager. Surely he can bring her into his office to talk about stuff like that. Do you think she was purposely trying to make you look incompetent to your coworkers?”

Damien paused.

“I never really thought of it like that…” he said quietly, “That makes sense, though. When you say it like that.”

“I think she probably knows better, but potentially doesn’t have the best intentions for you. Just something to think about,” Shayne said, “And, I’m sorry if that’s out of line. I know you came here to vent, not for me to go all Therapist Shayne on you.”

“Hey, I’ll take what I can get,” Damien chuckled, then thought for a moment. “Hey, do you wanna see what I’ve been working on today? We didn’t have, like, most of the things I needed, but I’m really proud of how the display turned out, do you wanna see pictures?”

Shayne nodded, then leaned over the counter to look over his phone.

“Wow. That looks great, man. I might have to go in and buy some of that,” Shayne joked, looking at the details Damien had described—the steamed pants on a mannequin, the tight folds of shirts on a table, the colors that he’d gracefully balanced on each fixture of the room.

“Thanks. I had to rush a bit this morning, but I’m happy how it turned out. I wish we didn’t have customers coming in soon, they’re just gonna fuck it up.”

Shayne placed each coffee in a holder, but left Damien’s cup and the cookie out, handing them directly to him.

“Is…this my order?” Damien asked, looking at Shayne confusedly. His words weren’t accusatory, instead laced with gentle concern as to help Shayne realize his mistake.

“No, I—“ Shayne stuttered, his face flushing with pink. “I mean, yes, it is, but I—I added the cookie. I bought you the cookie.”

Damien’s lips pursed for a moment.

“Oh,” he said, “You…you didn’t have to do that.”

Shayne shrugged.

“You sounded stressed. And those cookies are really good.”

As if he wasn’t expected back at work, Damien stayed frozen for a minute. Shayne was worried he had done something wrong.

“How is it you always know what I need, huh?” Damien asked. His eyes looked Shayne’s expression over, quickly following up with, “I appreciate it a lot, I mean. I just feel so…different, compared to my coworkers, but whenever I talk to you…you just…get me. And my unrealized need of a cookie, apparently.”

Shayne prevented himself from shrugging again, recognizing the need to maintain the sincerity of the moment, but he was silent. The add on of the cookie was meant to be just a simple, friendly gesture, but…maybe it could mean more.

It did mean more. And Shayne was okay with that.