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Gabriel was not one to hand out favors. He wasn't. He was a cold blooded, heartless, coffee-making machine who most definitely never stayed late at the Starbucks because his coworker had a date and needed to be gone.
No, he wouldn't do that.
And yet, here he was, a good thirty minutes after he was clocked out, blearily making one vente double coconut sprinkle chocolate iced fluffy caramel frappe machiato after another. (The night shift people were picky). Sue him. Samandriel (Lord, what a name) was ridiculously good with the puppy eyes. Gabriel could not be held responsible for the consequences.
***
Approximately twenty-three minutes later, the line had dwindled down to a only a few people, and Anna was supposed to come in in less than ten minutes. Thank god. Gabriel was dead on his feet. Somewhere in the back of his sleep deprived mind, he berated himself for falling for Samandriel's act. This is why, he thought fiercely, if sluggishly, this is why I can't be a nice person.
Someone cleared their throat in front of the counter. Gabriel didn't even bother to look up. "How may I help you," he muttered, barely managing a civil tone. All this coffee, and he couldn't drink it. It was enough to drive a man mad.
"Uh....a frappuchino?" The voice was amused.
Gabriel looked up at that. "Sam," he said in greeting, trying to force himself back to his normal cheerful demeanor. Be professional.
It didn't work.
Sam frowned, and leaned forward onto the glass counter. "What's wrong?"
Gabriel glanced around furtively for a supervisor (they tended to pop up at bad times), and made sure that they were the only two left in the shop. Then he dropped his psuedo-professional attitude. "Everything," he hissed, grabbing Sam's face, "Everything is wrong!"
"Care to elaborate?" Sam was infuriatingly calm, which only wound Gabriel up more.
"I am not a nice person, Sam!" He snapped, turning on his heel and throwing together the ingredients for Sam's frappechino. "I am not a nice person, and yet here I am, taking Salamander's shift cause he had a fucking date -"
"Salamander?" Sam interjected.
"Samandriel! Alfie! The twinky dude who works after me!"
"Oh. Carry on, then."
Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Thank you. Anyway, I'm taking his shift and I'm exhausted and surrounded by food I can't eat and coffee I can't drink and I just want to go home, Sam, and even goddamn Alfie can get a date while I'm sitting at home eating pretzels and watching porn and I just -" he was fully prepared to go on a full fledged tirade when Sam abruptly shut him up with a hand over his mouth. Gabriel immediately licked it, and Sam jerked away.
"Dude! Gross!" He bitched, wiping it on his pants.
"Don't put your hand on my mouth, then," Gabriel said, half smug, half irritated. "Why'd you do that anyway?"
Sam shrugged. "You were about to have a patented 'Gabe pity party' and I wanted to nip it in the bud."
Gabriel gaped. "Uh...how about no? Listen up, just because the entire campus wants in your pants doesn't mean that there aren't other, less attractive people - like me - who are destined to be forever alone. Seriously, let me whine."
Sam stared at him for a long moment, so long that Gabriel actually began to feel uncomfortable. "...what," he asked, glaring defensively.
Sam opened his mouth, then shut it. Opened it again. Finally, he spoke. "Gabriel....you do realize that they're just afraid of you, right?"
He snorted. "Sam, you do realize that I'm a 5'9 couch potato who works at Starbucks. There is nothing scary about me."
Sam sighed, and hooked a stool with one large hand to sit on. "You really don't get it, do you? You're smart. You've got a sharp tongue, and you use it against everyone indiscriminately. No one knows much about you. You're gorgeous, and you wield it like a weapon. Everyone is afraid of you, Gabe."
"Even you?" He says it quietly. Almost like he's afraid of the answer.
Sam hesitated. "Maybe not me."
"Why."
"I think it's probably because I made an effort to get to know you. To, you know, not judge a book by its cover and stuff like that."
"You said I was gorgeous." Almost a whisper.
Sam met his eyes, open and honest. "Yeah, I did."
"I'm really not, Sam." And fuck, Gabriel didn't mean to sound like a thirteen year old girl fishing for compliments. . . it just came out that way.
Sam dropped his head into his hands and groaned. "Gabriel, you have got to be shitting me. Half the fucking school wants in your pants, including -" he stopped abruptly.
"Including.....?"
Sam's head snapped up. He was glaring. "Including me, ok?"
Gabriel blinked, feeling like he had just been run over by some kind of rabid bus. "I'm sorry, I think I must have misheard....can you say that again?"
Sam gave a little sarcastic laugh, and turned his head away. With a start, Gabriel realized he was blushing. "I've had a massive crush on you for like, months, Gabriel. I'm surprised you haven't noticed. Everyone else has. Might as well get it out in the open."
"You. Have a crush on me."
"Don't make a big deal out of it, ok?" Sam snapped. His face was a dark red. "I realize that I'm younger than you, and you're probably straight and all that -"
"You. Like me?" Gabriel was having one of those rare moments when he couldn't find his words.
"I swear if you make fun of me, Gabe -"
A slow grin broke over Gabriel's face, and he slipped his hideous green apron over his head, keeping eye contact with Sam the entire time.
"Gabriel....." Sam looked hopeful and terrified at the same time.
"You like me," Gabriel grinned, sitting on the counter and swinging his legs over.
Sam nodded. He wasn't moving, frozen on his stool, fingers clenched, white knuckled, in his pants.
"You liiiiike me," Gabriel sang, scooching to the edge of the counter. He thought that if he smiled any wider his face would split.
Sam glared. "Yeah."
Gabriel reached forward and yanked Sam up by his collar. Sam towered over him, eyes wide. He was biting his lip. "What are you doing...."
"I like you too," Gabriel whispered, craning his head back to look Sam in the eye. He felt like a middle schooler again.
A slow smile spread across Sam's face. "You mean it?"
"How could I not like all of this?" Gabriel gestured expansively. Thank god his wit came back.
There was a long moment of silence where they just stared at each other, Gabriel seated on the counter, Sam standing with an arm on either side of him.
Then, in the space of a heartbeat, Sam had gathered Gabriel's smaller body in his arms and was burying his face in his neck. Gabriel gave the human equivalent of a purr, wrapping his arms around Sam's neck and hooking his feet around his waist. Dimly, he registered Sam's forgotten frappechino getting knocked over and soaking into his pants.
He didn't care. He was happy, all wrapped up in Sam, with white girl drink soaking into his jeans and someone clearing their throat in the background.
Wait.
He raised his head, and grinned apologetically at Anna. "Oops." Sam straightened up and turned as well, ears going crimson.
She smirked. "Nice one, Gabe."
"I can explain -" Sam started, looking a bit panicked, but Anna waved a hand.
"You two just get out if here. Maybe if you're lucky, I won't tell Dean."
Oh yeah. Anna was friends with Sam's older brother.
Awkward.
But Sam was nodding and dragging Gabriel out of the coffee shop. "Yeah, that would be REALLY great if you could not mention this to Dean," Sam was saying as he swung through the door, bell tinkling. Gabriel saluted Anna through the window as the two of them speed walked down the sidewalk.
Once they were a safe distance from the shop, Gabriel stopped them. "So, Sammo. What're the plans for tonight?"
The grin Sam gave him was positively feral, and Gabriel felt a shiver run through him.
He was pretty sure he owed Samandriel (Alfie?) a thank you.