"Doctor Styles?"
"Oh," he gasped at the all-too-familiar face before him. "I didn't know you worked here."
dedicated to tinag929
The rush of people passing by made him swerve sharply, the tray in his hands almost spilling out before his reflexes saved it. Being a bartender in one of the most popular bars in town meant that your reflexes had to be lightning speed or else tips would be non-existent. Sighing exasperatedly, Niall marched towards the table straight ahead, Zayn's calming voice reminding him internally that his ground shift was ending in an hour or two and then he'd be back behind the bar where it was safe.
Sort of.
He steadily held the drinks with his left, more dominant, hand and used his other to lightly move people aside, eager to get to his destination.
He had been working a triple shift, almost eighteen hours of work in just one day, and was utterly exhausted. But, in order to pay the upcoming rent, he had to keep hustling.
"Thank you, sir." The man politely greeted as the drinks were being served, seeing the worn expression placed onto the blonde's face before it quickly transitioned into an artificial smile. The buff, tattooed figure handed the blonde an extra twenty as a tip and Niall gave a grateful smile before strolling out and back to the bar where another tray of drinks awaited him.
Although he wasn't at the bottom of the food chain, seeing as he worked at a gay bar and had a great ass provided him with a lot of extra cash, there were stacks and stacks of medical bills calling his name.
Born with bad lungs and terrible joints, the Irishman was bound to pop up in the doctor's office at least twice every other month. It was always with a different issue, as well, one day it could be his sinuses the next it's due to his terrible knee. The loud music blaring the classic 'club music' wasn't helping him either, he acknowledged softly as he intercepted another group of people to make it to the bar feeling another headache wave through him. Perhaps working at a bar wasn't the smartest move seeing as everything about him-- skin, eyes, scalp, etc.-- was sensitive but as he mentioned before, the tips were generous and bills had to be paid.
"Don't worry, Ni." Zayn could sense his distress as he watched Niall approach their area, "Only twenty more minutes and your back behind here." he patted the marble counter of the bar softly before grimacing at the stickiness of the surface, quickly passing over a wet towelette to ease the grime collected onto it. The blue eyed man just chuckled, shaking his head slightly before checking his uniform for any stains. It was a routine because usually working on the ground, with all the people in the bar, it caused many mishaps and Niall had chosen--wrongly, if he may add-- to wear his tightest jeans on the busiest day of the week, meaning any liquid spilled would most likely leak through and get onto his bare leg.
That was not an occurrence he was looking forward to.
"Fuck," he cursed out loud, whining slightly as he heard Zayn laugh at the large vodka and cranberry stain plastered onto his pants, "Let me go clean up before I take the next order." And not caring to wait for a response from his friend he left, already knowing the other man would agree either way. It was this irresistible charm Niall liked to think he obtained, Zayn could never say no to him and it was by far the most ego-boosting thing seeing as Zayn was practically a supermodel.
Taking a deep breath, the man leaped into the large crowd and prayed internally that he could make it to the bathroom without another accident.
God, though, always had something against him. He noticed it a couple of years back when he prayed to not fall asleep in class during trigonometry only to wake up with drool on his cheek and a pretty evident hard-on. It was his professors fault, he remembered, that guy was really hot. Now though, all he wanted was to clean himself up and instead, he bumped into someone who was carrying about three pints in their hand. Long story short, they all fell on him and now he was drenched in sticky alcohol whilst being faced with the shocked culprit.
