Title: Closing Time
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps
Pairing: Guy/Kyle
Rating: PG
Summary: The bar closes. The boys get domestic.
Dis: Lies and bullshit.
Author's Notes: For
moonsong42 who requested Guy/Kyle with bar domestics. Yay!
Closing Time
By Perpetual Motion
A busy bar is a fun (and profitable) bar, Guy always says, but there's something to be said for closing time, when he pushes the last—usually drunk—customer out the door, and Kyle stacks chairs. Getting the last customer out of the bar always causes Guy to notice the quiet. Even on slow nights, it feels like sound is all around him, but once it's just him and Kyle, all Guy can hear are the little sounds. The clack as Kyle stacks chairs. The dlip of the bar faucet that means they're going to have to replace the washer again. The hrrm of the refrigerator, and the rattle-thump of the ice as it shifts in the machine.
"Hey, you," Kyle always says, always comes up behind Guy, always presses his nose to the back of Guy's neck. "Another successful day."
"Money in the bank," Guy always agrees. Sometimes, if it's been a particularly busy night, Guy will slide out of Kyle's arms and start picking up debris, but tonight's been a moderate night—regulars, a few semi-regulars, no major disasters—so Guy leans against Kyle and lets himself get hugged around the ribs. "Who's turn is it on dishes?"
"I'm washing, you're drying."
"Okay." Guy holds still until Kyle pulls away. He constructs a broom and dustpan with his ring while Kyle goes to run the water in the industrial sink. Most of their dishes go through the conveyor washer and dryer, but they've got a collection of fancier glasses that require handwashing.
Guy sweeps and mops and then walks to the kitchen. Kyle's started on the dishes, a construct pair of gloves over his hands to keep from burning himself in the water. There are six glasses in the next sink, bubbles still sliding down their sides. Guy rinses them each under the tap and sets them into the dish drainer before grabbing a towel and buffing them dry. By the time he finishes with the first six, Kyle has another six waiting for him.
"Beer order?" Kyle asks as Guy rinses the new set.
"Put it in Monday. We need to sit down and call suppliers about our meat order. I've gotten a couple of lower price offers."
"Thursday?"
"Sure." Guy dries the third round of glasses and puts them away with the others. He listens to the slrip of Kyle draining the sink and stretches his arms over his head. "C'mon," he says. "Let's get home."
Kyle smiles in response, tucking against Guy when Guy slings an arm around his shoulders.
Author: Perpetual Motion
Fandom: Green Lantern Corps
Pairing: Guy/Kyle
Rating: PG
Summary: The bar closes. The boys get domestic.
Dis: Lies and bullshit.
Author's Notes: For
Closing Time
By Perpetual Motion
A busy bar is a fun (and profitable) bar, Guy always says, but there's something to be said for closing time, when he pushes the last—usually drunk—customer out the door, and Kyle stacks chairs. Getting the last customer out of the bar always causes Guy to notice the quiet. Even on slow nights, it feels like sound is all around him, but once it's just him and Kyle, all Guy can hear are the little sounds. The clack as Kyle stacks chairs. The dlip of the bar faucet that means they're going to have to replace the washer again. The hrrm of the refrigerator, and the rattle-thump of the ice as it shifts in the machine.
"Hey, you," Kyle always says, always comes up behind Guy, always presses his nose to the back of Guy's neck. "Another successful day."
"Money in the bank," Guy always agrees. Sometimes, if it's been a particularly busy night, Guy will slide out of Kyle's arms and start picking up debris, but tonight's been a moderate night—regulars, a few semi-regulars, no major disasters—so Guy leans against Kyle and lets himself get hugged around the ribs. "Who's turn is it on dishes?"
"I'm washing, you're drying."
"Okay." Guy holds still until Kyle pulls away. He constructs a broom and dustpan with his ring while Kyle goes to run the water in the industrial sink. Most of their dishes go through the conveyor washer and dryer, but they've got a collection of fancier glasses that require handwashing.
Guy sweeps and mops and then walks to the kitchen. Kyle's started on the dishes, a construct pair of gloves over his hands to keep from burning himself in the water. There are six glasses in the next sink, bubbles still sliding down their sides. Guy rinses them each under the tap and sets them into the dish drainer before grabbing a towel and buffing them dry. By the time he finishes with the first six, Kyle has another six waiting for him.
"Beer order?" Kyle asks as Guy rinses the new set.
"Put it in Monday. We need to sit down and call suppliers about our meat order. I've gotten a couple of lower price offers."
"Thursday?"
"Sure." Guy dries the third round of glasses and puts them away with the others. He listens to the slrip of Kyle draining the sink and stretches his arms over his head. "C'mon," he says. "Let's get home."
Kyle smiles in response, tucking against Guy when Guy slings an arm around his shoulders.
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