PruAus Restaurant AU (no title yet e.e)

"Gilbert! Wake up!"
A loud, stern voice brought Gilbert into the annoyance of consciousness. The German groaned and kept his eyes shut, ignoring his brother. There was no way he would get out of bed this early on a Saturday. Weekends were made for sleeping in; didn't Ludwig know that? Although, in Gilbert's case, it seemed every day was made for sleeping in. No responsibilities meant no alarm clocks.
Just as he was about to shut down again, bright light poured into the room as the curtains were pushed back. His eyebrows furrowed and he groaned again, irritation more evident in his voice. The German refused to open his eyes. Maybe his brother would go away after a while, once he realized that he wasn't going anywhere. Gilbert snuggled deeper into his covers that covered almost all of his body, cocooning into the soft mess of tangled fabric.
Just when he thought he had won and Ludwig had given up, all the blankets and sheets were torn away from him, exposing his pale body to the slight breeze that was coming from the fan placed beside his bed. Ooooh, Ludwig had nerve!
"What?! What do you want, West?!" Gilbert shouted, sitting up and glaring at his brother. His red eyes squinted and twitched, adjusting to the rapid change in lighting.
Ludwig stood straight, looking down at his brother with a most displeased look on his face. "I have found you a job," he stated simply. The younger German's eyes began to wonder to his brother's bedroom floor, covered in dirty (and clean) clothes, wrappers, and other what's-its.
Gilbert scrunched his nose, "A job?" Did his brother seriously think he couldn't get a job on his own? Of course he could! Why not? He didn't fancy being treated like a little kid.
"Yes, a job. At the restaurant." Ludwig spoke to Gilbert as he started picking things up off the floor. He possessed a need for cleanliness that Gilbert most certainly had lost.
The latter groaned, at the restaurant? Ludwig had been a manager at a certain Italian restaurant for several months, working with many of Gilbert's friends as well as some of their family. Well... he guessed it was sort of a Italian-German collaboration restaurant. As much as Francis and Antonio had attempted to convince him to join them in working there, Gilbert couldn't imagine himself all dressed up in a prissy uniform waiting tables. And he definitely couldn't imagine himself slaving over a stove, prancing around the kitchen like some pansy. No way, that wasn't him. "Weeeeeest! Why?" He whined.
Ludwig stood again with an armful of Gilbert's shirts, scolding him, "Gilbert, I am tired of you lazing around the house all day. It's time for you to pick yourself up and get to work again. Look, we are getting busy around this time of year and we could use a few extra hands. You'll be working this evening as a waiter. I'll have your appropriate clothes by quarter to five. We will arrive at the restaurant early to go over the basic rules and expectations".
Gilbert frowned as he listened to Ludwig's instructions. As his brother was just heading out the door, he called out after him, "Hey! If I'm working this evening, why'd you get me up this early? Idiot!"
The younger brother stopped and turned to him, a confused look plastered on his face, "what? Bruder, it's 4:00 pm..."
Gilbert gave Ludwig and equally confused face before looking at the digital clock that rested on his side table. Huh. It was four already. "Oh..." He said dumbly. Ludwig scoffed before exiting Gilbert's room, shutting the door behind him.
Gilbert sat on his bed, slouched over in silence. As much as he hated the idea of being a waiter, he didn't want to disappoint his brother. He felt a little shame in the fact that he relied on Ludwig so much. Gilbert had been from job to job for who knows how long. He just couldn't keep one for more than a few weeks. He didn't know why...it was just.. none of them were... fun. It was sooo boring all the time, and Gilbert simply couldn't work in those conditions. It wasn't him. That being said, Gilbert didn't like to see Ludwig provide for them both. He was the big brother, he should be putting bread on the table.
With that in mind, Gilbert got up out of bed with no more than a heavy sigh.

Roderich walked slowly as he reached the restaurant, sighing deeply as he walked in. He saw the host, and immediately her face went dark, of course, he thought simply. He was a regular, but they hated him, he was a really picky customer. In fact, one of the reasons why he came here instead of any other place, was because they brewed the best tea, from leaves even not from small packages. And, since he was too lazy to make fresh tea himself he preferred to come here. But service was awful, especially when Francis was his server with all the flirting and jokes. But he did ask for him when he was bored, he enjoyed giving him hell. When he wasn't in the mood he always asked for the least detestable waiter, he'd found that person to be Antonio.
He glanced again at the host, and cleared his throat before speaking, "Could you please sit me in Antonio's section?" he asked nicely.
The host simply gave him an annoyed look, "his section is full, the waiting time is 30 minutes".
He sighed, "Fine, just give me a table, and I want to speak to the manager." He said as he walked behind her to his assigned table, he heard her mumbling incoherent things under her breath.
He insisted, what an awful service, they should at least train their staff members to be polite to their customers. They would hear him, Ludwig was probably tired of him already, but this was to be taken care of. He once heard Romano saying "Only two kinds of people order tea, assholes and bigger assholes!" What a night that had been! He sure gave him hell. He deserved it, he shouldn't be talking about important customers like that. And besides he didn't care what other people thought of him.

Gilbert wasn't impressed. His new job seemed to consist of nothing but boring old geezers eating out after bingo, couples that were a little too eager to get to the bedroom, and families that didn't know how to shut their goddamn kids up! How come he got the shitty part of the restaurant? It was a loud and happy feel in general, aside from the grouchy old grandpas, but it seemed Gilbert always got stuck with the weird or gross ones.
He was also finding it really hard to be polite. With a pansy apron tied around his waist, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep his snappy comments bottled up, especially with the unusual and whiney customers. Although, he had to admit, the black trousers and collared shirt didn't make him look half bad.
Ludwig had quickly given him simple orders: smile, write everything down, don't forget to mention anything and most of all, be polite. His brother had also tried to straighten out Gilbert's hair. He had no such luck. White locks stuck out and flew everywhere, looking almost as if he just got out of bed.
"Hey, how you doin', new guy?" Antonio asked, smiling cheerfully. The Spaniard had two arms full of dishes, stacked up on top of one another.
Gilbert sighed, "I don't know how you put up with this! I've never been into a restaurant as loud as this! And all the customers here are sooo lame!" He complained, slouching over the counter.
His friend looked at him and sighed, "There are good days and bad days... we are lucky the food is so great!" He laughed and went into the kitchen to drop off the plates. Before he went through the doors completely he nodded at a table by the far wall under a small lantern. "Looks like you have another one Gil!" And with that, he disappeared out of the German's sight.
Gilbert groaned. Not another one! He made his way over to the table, maneuvering through the many other busy ones. The albino noticed the man sitting alone. Really? What a loser.
As he drew near to the table, he observed the young man sitting rather stiffly in his cushioned chair. He was wearing a long blue jacket over top a white collared shirt, and was that... a cravat?  Gilbert almost laughed. You're kidding me, he thought to himself. The man had his dark hair combed to perfection... well, almost. There was a rebel curl that stuck out at the top of his head.
Gilbert tried his best to force a smile, "Can I get you a drink to start?"

Roderich inspected and looked at his waiter up and down. Great, he'd gotten a newbie. He sighed, "tea, Darjeeling, freshly brewed, and bring me some milk and honey as well please," he said coldly. He'd better not mess up his order, "I also asked to see the manager,"
Just when he was thinking about this place not training their staff well, he sighed, he would surely have a word with Ludwig about this. This guy looked so unprofessional, his hair was all messy and his whole attitude was of someone who didn't want to be here. "Oh, and one more thing, your section is being exceedingly loud, you should know how to keep your customers under control in a better way, aren't they supposed to train you for this job?"

Gilbert's jaw hung low for a moment before he narrowed his eyes at the prissy man seated in front of him. Oh, he was as stuck up as he looked! That was it, he couldn't take it anymore, he had had enough with these goddamn customers! He couldn't hold back when he snapped, "Look prinzessin, if you hadn't noticed, the whole restaurant is loud. If your delicate ears can't handle it, I suggest you go elsewhere." He leaned over the table snaring.
He mocked the man's snooty tone when he said, "Oh, and one more thing?" Gilbert smirked, "aren't they supposed to train you to be a man?"
Gilbert straightened up and put a fake, polite smile to his face, "Darjeeling, was it? Honey and milk, got it!"  He called, walking away into the kitchen.

Roderich was dumbfounded, simply speechless, he stared at the guy's back as he walked away. How dare he talk to him like that?! No one had ever talked to him like that, sure they talked to him behind his back but never to his face! But he couldn't let that affect his cool, he would get him back sooner or later.

Somehow Gilbert's mood was restored, this was indeed going to be fun. After being struck for a moment he couldn't help the slight chuckle that escaped his lips.
After tending to a few other tables- cleaning up and bringing food- Gilbert made his way back to the priss' table with his girly tea.
He carefully placed the plate down, not spilling any of the hot tea onto himself or the table. Looking at the priss, he noticed he had glasses. Hm. Of course. Gilbert smirked, "There's your tea. Milk and honey too. Did you decide on anything yet, or would you like a few more minutes?" He asked, getting ready to pull out his pen and paper, if they were needed.

Roderich took a sip of the tea before adding anything to it, he scrunched his nose at the bland flavor, "well you obviously have not the slightest idea of how to brew tea. Why don't you have Francis or Antonio make me some tea if you can't do it by yourself? And yes, I’d like to order. I want the Strawberry Salad. Since you're new I'll elaborate for you, no nuts, no cheese, romaine lettuce only, the grilled chicken only with salt and pepper, and the vinaigrette on the side, and take this tea back, try to brew it properly this time," he said simply, he did not intend to repeat himself. When Gilbert tried to take away his menu he told him off saying he still needed it, yet he left it on the side untouched. Without another word he busied himself with a book he'd brought, but the noise was too irritating. He knew very well that he complained almost every time he came here and he knew very well that instead of improving the service they worsened it(only towards him,) so that he would grow tired and not come anymore, but the fact that they thought like that irritated him even more than the poor service.

Gilbert stared dumbfounded at the prissy aristocrat in front of him. Was he serious? Was he actually serious? The fact that he hadn't called him on his snappiness was surprising to Gilbert, but it only made him want to see how far he could go until the priss got him in trouble. "Excuse me? Does it look like I have time to slave over you? Prinzessin, if you want to be queen you can go home and do it there, but for now, learn some damn manners." Gilbert couldn't believe he was bringing up manners, him of all people. But common.. this guy was acting like he was fucking royalty! What was his problem?! He picked up the man's tea, purposely bumping it to splash a bit onto the aristocrat. "Oh, my bad," he said in fake sincerity, "I'll be right back with you order, your highness." And with that he turned away, feeling rather angry. Ugh, damn it Ludwig!

Roderich brought his hand to his temples, trying to stop a headache from coming. A slightly dark smirk appeared on his face, he got up and went to the washroom, no one had ever talked back to him like that. This was a new experience for him. He was thrilled. He dried himself off, he sighed, washed his face quickly and returned to his seat.
He grabbed the book he'd been reading, the customers were slowly leaving, he was glad, the restaurant was getting quieter.
About that new waiter, he was fun to mess around with, his reactions were simply priceless, but if he did something like spilling stuff over him again he wouldn't be pleased.

As much as he was starting to hate this prissy customer, Gilbert tried his best to get his order right. He asked Ludwig how to make the damn tea and he followed his instructions. The faster he got it right, the sooner the priss would be out of his hair. The salad was ready and he carried it over to the aristocrat. He was a bit relieved to see that the crowd was dying down. There were more empty tables than full now, and things were a little quieter.
Once he was at the priss' table, he placed his food down carefully and without a word. The albino moved to clean off other tables, all the while secretly keeping an eye on the aristocrat to see his reaction to the tea. Ugh, that man was so annoying! Yet strangely... Gilbert shook his head, all the loud noises and food smells were making him loopy.

He was delighted with the tea this time, a soft and delicate smile spread across his features. The warmth of the tea made his cheeks blush slightly, and the salad was also just as he'd asked, he was for once, pleased. He breathed the tea as he meticulously added first the milk and then the honey in exact predetermined measures. He took another sip, he let out a pleased sigh, perfect.

Gilbert was washing a table when he finally saw him take a sip of his tea. He looked quite satisfied. He noticed a light blush on the priss' cheeks- due to the steam of the tea. The man looked very delicate, drinking his tea and smiling softly. Gilbert couldn't help but stare, frozen in his actions. He didn't know how long he was looking, but the aristocrat glanced over at him and he quickly averted his gaze and went back to washing the table. Jeez, what was he doing?!
He finished up and headed back into the kitchen at a fast pace, not daring to look at the priss. He waited for fifteen minutes before heading back out to see if the aristocrat was done.

He noticed Gilbert’s stare, more like, it pierced him. He, as anything he did, ate with much patience and delicacy. Taking a sip of tea and reading every other bite, but slowly he finished his dish. He looked at the server approaching, he had to congratulate him on the tea, this had been by far the best he'd had, he cleared his throat, "the tea, I loved it, thank you." He said simply.

Gilbert noticed he wasn't quite done with his salad. Well damn, now what?
He was both relieved and annoyed when the priss complimented the tea. "Finally, something that comes out of your mouth that doesn't reek of bitchiness." He snapped back at the priss. The room was almost silent now, other than the soft chatter and clinking of cutlery. Gilbert tried to keep his voice down while still sounding boisterous. This man was so... annoying! He was so stuck up and prissy and.. pansyish! Ugh, Francis was in for a ranting the next time he saw him.

He scoffed, "as I thought, you're simply wild, they should have at least told you this is not the way to treat customers" he said looking infuriated, "just, bring my check please," he asked nicely after his retort. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself he would accomplish nothing by lowering his manners to those of this silver haired server.

"Oh, don't worry honey," Gilbert said in fake sincerity, "I know how to treat customers, I just didn't know we had to treat the pests the same way." With that Gilbert took his dishes and headed back to the kitchen, snickering to himself. He printed off the priss' check and was making his way back to his table when he collided with Francis. "Oh! Hey man," Gilbert said, patting the Frenchman on the back. "After closing I'm comin' with you, okay?" Gilbert received a quick nod before they parted ways.
He arrived at the aristocrat's table yet again and placed the check in front of him. "There you are, prinzessin"

"Thank you," he said with a smile, one he had practiced enough to make it seem sincere. He handed him his card, " oh, and could I possibly get big glass of water? Thank you". He said in fake nice voice and while he waited for him to come back with water and his receipt for him to sign he looked for cash to leave as tip.

Gilbert shook his head on his way back to the table. This guy is so freakin' needy! Can't he just have a friggin' breath mint then be done with it? Although.. Gilbert recalled trying tea once. Ludwig had made if for Feliciano and asked him to try it out first. It does make you pretty damn thirsty... but whatever. He tried not to think about it too much. It's not like this damn aristocrat mattered anyway. Although he had to admit, he had been the most exciting part of his evening.
He gathered the receipt and glass of water and took it back to his table. "Anything else, priss?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at him and smirking.

He saw the receipt, what he had gathered for a tip doubled the sum, he shrugged, taking the glass of water and giving it a sip, signing the receipt after. He took the $20 dollar bill and in quick movements, he put it inside the glass of water, put the menu he had set aside over it, turned the glass on the table, and slipped the menu out from the top that was now resting on the tabletop, it was the only thing preventing the water from spilling out of the glass. The only way he could get out his tip was by raising the upside down glass which would make all the water spill on the table and floor, a mess he would have to clean afterwards. Then he stood up taking his things with him, "No, that'll be all for tonight, thank you. I'm looking forwards to coming back, I was serious when I said I loved your tea". He said with a genuine smile on his face and he walked out very much satisfied.

Gilbert stared, dumbfounded, as the priss walked out of the restaurant, head held high and smirking to himself a bit. He looked back at the twenty dollars swimming in the upside-down glass of water. Ho. Ly. Crap. He hadn't expected that at all. The albino saw the last few costumers leave before he called over Francis, who was flipping over chairs to rest on the tables.
"Francis! We need to talk!" He shouted, both frustrated with the priss... and himself.
Everyone had left and gone home. Gilbert and his friend sat in the quiet, empty restaurant at the same table that still had the glass of water with the 20 dollar bill in it.
"What is the problem, mon amie? You seem... quite stressed. Not like the new job?" Francis asked, laying back in his chair rather comfortably. Relaxed as always.
Gilbert on the other hand, was anything but relaxed. "No! It's fuckin' bullshit! The customers here are nothing but bitchy whiners, grouchy old men, loudmouth drunks, giggly teenagers, did I mention bitchy whiners?" Gilbert could feel himself getting wired up, "like this one guy today, made me make his prissy tea TWICE, and he ordered a salad! How lame is that?! Friggin' strawberries in it too. You shoulda seen what a damn whiner he was! He was ordering all these special requests and he kept acting as if he was freakin' royalty! Wearing a fuckin' cravat... his clothes looked like they were hand made by the goddamn queen! God, I bet you those glasses were fake too, just to be all smart and shit. And who combs their hair like that anyway?! He was just so, so, so... annoying and stuck up and stubborn and, and prissy and, and-"
"Attractive?" Francis asked, grinning and pointing a finger at him.
Gilbert responded almost instantly, "No! Of course not!"
Francis raised an eyebrow and said with a warning tone, "Gilbert-"
"Ugh, I've never been more fuckin' turned on in my life!" Gilbert caved. He pulled at his hair in frustration. "Oh my god the way he talked and that thing he pulled with the glass?"
"Sexy?" Francis asked knowingly.
"Extremely!" The albino shouted, slamming his hands down on the table. "But.. but he's such a freakin' aristocrat! And he's so frustrating! why would I like someone like him?"
Something must have clicked in the Frenchman's head. He gasped and leaned forward quickly.          
"Gil! Oh my god it's Roderich! That's who you're talking about! With the honey and milk?" Gilbert nodded, confused at his friend's sudden out burst. "Oh, wow, he is a stubborn one isn't he? But isn't he gorgeous?! Oooh, Gil you're in for it!" Francis laughed, tossing his head back.
Gilbert narrowed his eyes. We'll see about that, he thought. He promised himself this was just a faze. All the pasta was getting to him. The next time he saw the priss, it'd be different. With that in mind, he pulled the glass off the table.

Roderich walked back home with aesthetic steps, the memory of Gilbert's face still fresh in his mind, he would never allow himself to forget it. He smiled contently, he'd never been more annoyed by someone's words, but this... this... boor somehow managed to get his nerves messed up. He would most certainly enjoy going back to receive his service, just for the fun of it.
He arrived home, and a thought came to his mind. Even with his uncombed hair, aggressive red eyes and rudeness, he wanted to get to know this barbarian. He someone fancied to spend time with him. His eyes widened as he realized what that meant. No way. There is absolutely no possibility of that being the case, he was indubitably not attracted to this man. Yet somehow he looked forwards to meeting with him again, of course their relationship wouldn't change, they were simply customer and server. The only reason why he even directed a word towards him was because it was his job, there is no other reason, who would put up with him anyway?
He was well aware of the nuisance he was to others, he chose to be that way. Don't get attached, don't care for other people's feelings, don't expect anything, and don't get hurt. That was his aesthetics, so why was he feeling stirred up by that guy? He needed to get his feelings in control. With that in mind he took a shower to cool himself up and soon he was in his silky pajamas and onto bed.