Jongdae flips the sign on the door with an exaggerated flourish. Now, the 'Closed' side faces outward.
"Finally," he sighs. "No offense, but it's been ten hours and your faces are only funny for the first few."
A used napkin is thrown at Jongdae. "You shouldn't be talking," Sehun calls.
Jongdae bats the crumpled ball away and readies himself to shout back when Joonmyun sweeps in. He plucks up the napkin swiftly and glares at them both. "Why don't you help clean so we can hurry up and eat dinner. Don't make me count to ten," he warns.
With a roll of his eyes, Jongdae grabs a rag and begins to scrub at the tables. "When did you start becoming such a mom, Joonmyun?"
Meanwhile, Chanyeol's struggling to refill the salt and pepper shakers. "Which one of you put sugar in the salt shaker at table five?" Chanyeol stares accusingly at Jongdae. "The nice old lady sitting there kept asking about the recipe and insisting that the salt here tastes miraculously sweet."
Jongdae shrugs. "Don't know what you're talking about, man."
They finish the rest of their cleaning in relative silence. Minseok makes quick work of putting up extra chairs while Jongin runs under the tables with a mop. Having cleared the tables, everyone else is either busy in the kitchen washing dishes or cooking.
As Chanyeol finishes his job, he watches as Kyungsoo chases everyone out of the kitchen and slams the door shut, muttering about something about Sehun and violation of food safety regulations. "Just sit down," Kyungsoo orders, "and wait for me to finish making something edible."
There's barely any reaction before the chatter starts up again. Joonmyun is the first to sit down. One by one, the other workers follow and collapse onto the seats with a series of groans and complaints about pain in various body parts.
As everyone's squeezing themselves into two booths, Chanyeol wonders idly where he should sit. Just as he takes a step toward where Yixing is (because Yixing is nice and he won't put condiments in Chanyeol's drink when he's not looking), Jongdae appears out of nowhere and shoves at his side.
"Get in, beanpole," Jongdae grumbles. "I really need a fucking rest."
And Chanyeol probably would've gotten in if he hadn't spotted Baekhyun already seated in the same booth. He makes to walk to the other side of the table, but Jongdae's not having it.
"Where are you going?" Jongdae holds onto Chanyeol's elbow and forces him down.
Chanyeol takes care to leave two inches of space between himself and Baekhyun when he scoots in. Jongdae shoots him an annoyed look. "What's your problem? Can you please move in further because three-fourths of my right ass cheek is still hanging-"
Chanyeol tries to signal with his face that no, he really doesn't need to be that close to Baekhyun. He makes a point of shaking his head subtly. Jongdae appears unamused until something apparently clicks in his mind. His eyebrows shoot up.
"Oh. Why didn't you say so?" Jongdae winks extremely obviously. "I understand." Chanyeol should know that it's always a bad sign when Jongdae understands something.
Jongdae presses himself right into Chanyeol. Hard. So hard, in fact, that Chanyeol's now flush against Baekhyun and he can feel the warmth seeping through his clothes and Baekhyun's eyes are incredibly close as they blink up at him.
"Hi," Chanyeol says conversationally. "I'll move over a bit. Jongdae's just being an idiot-"
"Like I said, I don't mind," Baekhyun nearly purrs. What the actual fuck.
Chanyeol feels suddenly way too warm again.
"Sorry, couldn't help myself." Baekhyun laughs, eyes crinkled at the corners and no trace of the exaggerated suggestive tone from before. "You're just really easy to rile up. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"Can't say that's happened," Chanyeol says. "It's probably more because you're great at riling people up." He's not sure if he's disappointed or relieved. Of course Baekhyun was only joking. He grins too.
"Hold up. Since when did the puppy grow claws?" Baekhyun asks in mock surprise.
Jongdae looks over with interest. "I've always said you act like a golden retriever."
Chanyeol makes an indignant sound. "It was one timethat I put a tennis ball in my mouth, Jongdae. You're the one that dared me, anyway." The table goes quiet. "I'm hardcore," he declares awkwardly.
"I can't believe that you can listen to rock music and then say shit like that." Jongdae shakes his head.
"So, tell me about that tennis ball." Baekhyun raises an eyebrow.
"That was a dark time. You'll have to stick around to hear it."
"I'll be extra sure to stick around, then."
Just then, there's a loud commotion across the table. Yifan's holding a fancy glass of orange juice, of all things. He attempts to casually prop an elbow on the table with a loud thump. He looks up suddenly over the rim of the cup with a longing stare and proceeds to mumble something inaudible into his cup.
"You said you were good at this." Luhan watches apprehensively. "Only the juice can hear you talking. Unless you like flirting with fruit-flavored drinks. In that case, ten out of ten."
"I said 'Excuse me,'" Yifan corrects. "And it's more about the aura than the words. You wouldn't understand."
"No? How many girls have you picked up with that line then?"
"None," Yifan admits. "Yet."
Everyone's so loud and Kyungsoo's still locked in the kitchen, probably poisoning the food, but it's strangely somewhat nice. It's good enough for a first day, Chanyeol decides.
