Work Text:
David's shift was almost over.
This damn hospital, the damn patients, the damn doctors-
It reminded him just how below them he was, those rich pricks who thought of him as scum, just some janitor. It probably didn’t help that he was new and constantly had headphones in, they didn’t seem to take too kindly to that. The mop in his hands is leaving blisters on his hands from how long he’d been scrubbing at the blood on the floor. Apparently there had been an accident, and the patient hadn’t made it.
David almost wants to call them lucky, but he knows better.
This damn stain won’t go away. He knows that if he doesn’t get the stain off, he’ll get in trouble, but if he stays here for another hour, he’ll get called a slacker. The doctors were weirdly critical of his job, while quite literally sleeping with some of the nurses in the unused patient rooms. Who were they to judge?
David scrubs a little harder out of frustration, and suddenly, the mop handle snaps like a crayon.
Fuck.
Damn these old supplies, he wouldn’t doubt it if the mop was older than him. He’d have to go to the janitor’s closet to find another. Which was on the bottom floor.. God, this just had to happen, didn’t it? He can’t help but let out a loud, frustrated groan, setting down the two mop pieces onto the floor. Leaving the room, he’d set down the hallway, heading for the elevator, when a sight caught his eye.
The other janitor, Zep, if he remembered right- with a mop attached to his cart. Perfect! He didn’t have to go all the way downstairs for another.
“Hey uh—Mr. Hindle?” David asks, walking up to him as he feels a wave of embarrassment wash over him. Zep couldn’t be more than two years older than him, and the man certainly wasn't his boss. He already regrets asking for something and he's only said one thing.
Though it catches Zep’s attention, thankfully, who seemed to be sweeping the hall.
“Oh—David, right? Do you need anything?” Zep asks, looking up from what he's doing. David wonders for a moment how the man would even know his name, before he realizes it's on his name tag. That makes sense, it's not like he's very well know around here. Zep is smiling politely, and David can’t help but feel a little rude for not smiling back, but it’s too late to force one now.
“Yeah, yeah it’s uh—David,” He says quickly, glancing away for a moment. Could this get any more awkward? “Could I borrow your mop? I uh.. snapped mine by accident.”
David's face is red from how utterly embarrassing this is—leave it to him to commit social suicide everytime he tires to talk to someone. Zep's face flashes with confusion before he chuckles, raising an eyebrow.
“You snapped it? Like in half?” He asks incredulously, and David’s face burns a little more. He goes to speak, to defend himself and say that it's the oldest fucking mop probably in existence, but Zep beats him to it.
“Me and the uh- night janitor, we had a bet on who’d break it first,” Zep says with amusement, and David pauses. So he wasn’t.. laughing at him. Okay. That's certainly a new thing, but he isn't complaining.
He grins, and he feels a bit better about coming over here.
“Well I guess I beat you guys to it, huh?” David muses jokingly, and Zep laughs, which causes David to laugh with him—he can't help it, the guy had a contagious laugh. He feels almost warm as he laughs, as if the sun exploded inside of him, but not from embarrassment—maybe something else. Something nicer.
Out of nowhere, David’s watch beeps, interrupting the two. It’s the end of his shift. He groans and shuts the alarm off, smiling back up at Zep awkwardly.
“Sorry to say, but I am now no longer needing that mop- this guy is home free,” David jokes, jabbing a thumb at himself. The joke isn't really that funny, and he cringes inwardly. Hopefully he didn't just fuck up this conversation— it's been so long since someone actually enjoyed a conversation with him.
At the joke, Zep’s smile suddenly seems a little forced, as if he’s disappointed. It's something in the eyes that reveals it, and David feels a sliver of disappointment himself.
“Lucky you, I’m still here for another hour,” Zep says, tiredly sighing, and David feels bad for him. He probably wouldn’t have another janitor to help him until David’s replacement for the day came in, and she was always.. a little late. And by a little, he means an hour. “But it was nice talking to you, David, it’s a shame you have to leave.”
It’s strange- out of the few months he'd been working there, this was the first time he actually wants to keep interacting with someone. Usually he was silently begging to be ignored, to blend into the walls and be left alone, but now?
He doesn’t want it to end.
“Actually uh,,” He begins after a moment of silence, looking at the floor for a moment. “I can keep talking for a while, I usually smoke in the parking lot after work.. if—if you'd want to, of course.”
He feels a little stupid, Zep probably wouldn’t want to talk to him any longer, but he can't help it. He was a new hire, Zep had been here for a year from what he heard- he probably had other people he’d rather talk to, maybe a doctor or one of the secretaries.
But instead of being brushed off, Zep seems to actually brighten a bit.
“I could take my break now, and we could sit in the parking lot. It’s nice out after all,” He says with a faint smile, and David grins in return.
______
In a few minutes, they had cleaned up the supplies in the hallway and the room, throwing away the now useless mop. Whatever—someone else could deal with it. It was nice, cracking jokes in the elevator, shoving everything in the janitor’s closet, and making their way outside—like they were friends.
The smell of asphalt and fresh air fills David’s lungs, and he can’t help but sigh. He hated the smell of the hospital, it was too clean, too medicinal. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the pack of cigarettes, offering it to Zep, who shakes his head.
“I don’t smoke, but thank you,” Zep says, watching as David shrugs and mumbles something along the lines of ‘More for me, I guess,’ and lights one.
David can’t help but smile a little wider, letting out a breathy laugh as he blows out smoke. It felt like a calm had washed over him, like the stress from work had just melted away. He was relaxed. They sit outside for a while, just talking about whatever. David mentions his favorite bands, Zep mentions a few that they both liked. It’s peaceful, the only thing interrupting them was some blonde man hurriedly leaving the building.
“That man there is Doctor Gordon,” Zep softly says with a smile, leaning into David slightly, though the smile doesn't seem the kindest “From what I’ve heard, he’s been uh.. sleeping with one of the nurses, even though he’s got a ring on his finger.”
David snickers, looking at Dr. Gordon as he rushes to his car. It makes sense, honestly. The guy even looks like a douche, and the one time he'd interacted with the man, all he got was a scoff and a nasty look—then again, who was he to judge a book by his cover? Maybe the guy was having a bad day.
“How’d you know that?” David asks, taking a slow drag from his cigarette.
“Well, as an orderly, let’s just say I hear a lot of things,” Zep says, chuckling. David just hums in acknowledgement, blowing smoke from his nose. The sting that accompanies it is welcomed with a soft exhale.
There’s silence for a moment, before Zep looks down at his own watch, and frowns.
“My break is over,” Zep states, obviously disappointed. David frowns with him, letting out a sigh. Of course, he knew there would be an end to this, he just wished it wasn’t so soon. The first time in forever that he gets to talk to someone he enjoys, and it's only for an hour? Just his luck.
“Well I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe?” David tries with a hopeful smile, but the way Zep shakes his head makes him practically deflate.
“I’m off tomorrow,” He says, looking out into the parking lot. David sighs and digs through his pocket to find his lighter, preparing to grab another cigarette, but grabs a marker instead that he had snagged while labeling some of the cotton swab jars in a medicine cabinet.
Wait.
“Give me your arm real quick-” David demands, not even waiting for Zep to respond. He scribbles down his number onto Zep’s forearm with a smile, grinning as he adds a smiley face.
“There. Now you can text me whenever,” David says, flicking out his cigarette. Zep stares at the ink on his skin for a moment, then smiles back. There it is again, that stupidly bright warmth that keeps punching David in the gut.
“That sounds perfect,” Zep says, and David can’t help but stare into his eyes, the way they soften with the smile. They stare at each other for a second, nothing interrupting them. That warmth only grows warmer, before David clears his throat.
“Well you better get back to work, don’t want you getting fired-” David jokes, before turning to walk into the parking lot, pointing finger guns at Zep. “See you tomorrow, Hindle.”
Zep just smiles, shaking his head.
Maybe this wasn’t the worst day ever.