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The party is loud and stuffy, and Griffin wishes everybody would just go home. He’s tired of being around all of the other chefs and Naomi. And honestly, Monty too. He cups his red Solo cup full of non-alcoholic beer with both hands, sipping from it as he absentmindedly listens to Monty say something. He glances over at Mitch, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated manner. Mitch smiles for a second, exhaling from his nose before he takes a drink of his beer. Griffin smiles into his cup, satisfied with the reaction he got. Griffin’s gaze keeps moving between Mitch’s eyes, lips, and what Griffin’s been referring to as Mitch’s Betty Boop curls. The curls on either side of his head, pressed against his skin and curling out away from his ears.
“Hey Mitch, how was your first day?” Griffin says after a minute, stepping closer to him so they can hear each other. He takes another drink, watching Mitch.
“It was-” He starts, but he immediately gets cut off by Monty yelling something to somebody across the room. From what Griffin’s seen, this same thing has happened all day. Mitch just takes a big swig of his beer, looking extremely pissed off as he grips the neck of the bottle tighter.
Griffin puts his cup down on a table, “I’m gonna go take a piss, watch my drink for me?”
Mitch nods and moves closer to the table.
“Thanks, man, I really owe you one.” Griffin nudges him gently before walking down the hallway to the bathroom.
[WAITING…]
Griffin walks out of the bathroom, wiping his freshly washed hands on his jeans. Mitch is yelling about something, and the entire party is quiet. He turns the corner back into the party to see him, and he suddenly starts pointing at him. Griffin freezes so hard his rat tail smacks him in the shoulder blade gently.
“Griffin’s the only fucking person here who isn’t a complete piece of shit! He’s the only bearable person in that goddamn restaurant!” He motions wildly, a vein bulging slightly in his neck from the strain of yelling. “Y’know what? Fuck this. You all suck, I quit.”
Mitch turns and storms off towards the door. Griffin drops his hands to his sides and starts to walk off towards him. Mitch turns around after a second when Griffin gets to the doorway, slowly raising his hand and pointing at Floyd. It’s a lazy point, all of his fingers slack with his arm hanging in the air.
“Oh yeah, there is one more thing…” He lowers his voice a little. He sounds a little too calm, too calm for comfort. Everybody turns their heads to look at Floyd, but Griffin’s gaze is plastered on Mitch. “You… You are the biggest piece of shit in this entire restaurant, and I hope you burn in hell.”
“Me? What the fuck did I do to you, man?!” Floyd stammers out. He keeps stuttering, probably trying to gain sympathy, but Griffin is still staring at Mitch. Mitch stares back and puts his hands on his waist. Griffin slowly nods, looking away for a second so Mitch can do his thing. When he looks back with everybody else, he feigns disgust along with everybody. He’s impressed, deep down. He’s never had the balls to ever stand up to anybody there, let alone Goat them. As if he would even be able to, he doesn’t have a dick or balls. And honestly, it’s not just the act that’s impressive. The equipment he’s working with to do it isn’t bad, either. Definitely actually pleasant to look at, unlike when Raddimus catches somebody off guard in the walk-in.
Mitch opens the door and laughs out quietly, “Fucking faggots.” before walking out, and Griffin follows after him. Griffin closes the door behind them in Monty’s face, grabbing Mitch’s hand.
Griffin gets quiet, his face serious, “Please don’t quit.”
“It’s a fucking hellhole there, Griffin, why not?”
“It may be a hellhole, but some people make it bearable… You made it bearable for me today.” Griffin drops Mitch’s hand and shoves his own in his jacket pockets.
Griffin’s gaze moves from Mitch’s eyes for just a second, down to his lips. He bites his bottom lip for a second before looking back up into his eyes. Mitch raises his hands and grabs Griffin’s face for a second, pressing their lips together quickly. Griffin immediately takes the hint, kissing him back roughly as they step closer to each other. The door opens as Griffin places his hands on Mitch’s hips, and Griffin can’t give a shit enough to pull away and see who opened it.
“Oh fuck,” Monty’s voice says, “You guys really are fags!”
Griffin lifts a hand and flips him off, sighing into the kiss as one of Mitch’s hands snakes its way into his hair. Griffin pulls away after a split second, trying not to smile. Mitch laughs quietly before pulling away.
“So… I’m off tomorrow night if you wanna go do something.” Griffin says, putting his hands back in his pockets. He kicks at a pebble sitting in the front yard before looking back up at Mitch for a response. He’s scared of Mitch rejecting him, even if they did just kiss.
Mitch nods and crosses his arms, smiling dopily, “Dan gave me tomorrow off, I’m down.”
Griffin picks at the fabric inside of one of his pockets, just to do something with his hands. “Cool… There’s a horror movie out, I’ve heard good shit about it.”
“Fuck, I love horror, sounds like a plan.” Mitch responds. Griffin almost sighs out of relief as Mitch runs a hand through his dark brown curls.
“It’s a date then.”
Mitch shifts on his feet, dropping his hands to his sides as they talk. “Sure is, I’ll be here at 6? Grab dinner after?”
“Anywhere but work.” Griffin rushes out. He’s so tired of everything at ShenaniganZ. “And 6 works fine.”
“Dope… I’m gonna go back inside now…”
“Oh, yeah, same. It’s too muggy out here.”
They both walk back inside with each other, pushing past Monty and going to sit on the couch where Calvin and one of the high school girls were sitting earlier.