Chapter Text
Darryl never had problems with his local grocery store. It was spacious and had all the things he needed in his day-to-day, from basic cleaning supplies to his favorite kind of muffins. Granted, there was that one time he got yelled at by an old lady and nearly cried before running out of the store to sit in his mom’s car, but that was several years ago now. He’d grown past it--even if he sometimes thought about it at 2 am when his insomnia kept him up at night--and hasn’t had a repeat of the incident. That’s beside the point; the point being, of course, that it was an okay grocery store.
So why was some random guy in a teal hoodie glaring at him and trying to steal the last carton of eggs in the store from his shopping cart??
When Darryl looks away for even a second, he comes and takes his eggs! He can hear the guy rustling through his groceries and keeps catching him scampering off with the carton. Darryl cannot possibly imagine why someone would be so desperate for a carton of eggs that they’d go so far as to trail someone else around a store for twenty minutes just to fuel a back-and-forth fight where one of them takes the carton from the other when they aren’t paying attention.
That’s it. Darryl has heard that rustling noise for the last time. He turned to confront the thief, freezing the man as he reached to take the carton from out of the middle of his cart.
“Why do you keep trying to steal my eggs from my shopping cart?”
The guy blinked up at him, then pointed accusingly. “Your eggs? Those eggs were clearly mine. I’m just taking back what belongs to me!”
Darryl looked at him incredulously. “What? You haven’t even bought them yet. They can’t possibly be yours.”
“Well,” the guy hesitated before continuing, “I called dibs on them. Did you? No.”
“YOU-” Darryl raised his voice before remembering he was in public. He turned away for a second, running a hand through his hair and unconsciously pulling down the hood around his head.
“What are we, kindergarteners? It’s first-come, first-serve. I got the eggs before you, so they’re currently reserved by me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go pay for this.”
The other guy stepped in front of the cart and, not caring about his surroundings, he started yelling. “Just give up the damn carton already!”
“Language, you muffin! Do you even need them that badly?”
“Language!” Zak parroted what Darryl said with a more irritating, higher-pitched tone, only to be met with an unimpressed look. “What kind of insult is muffin? And yes, it's very, very important I get these eggs. ”
Darryl groaned.
This was going to go on forever.
“You know what? You’re ridiculous. Just. Take them, if they’re so important.” Darryl hissed, dropping the carton and storming off to the self-checkout, not sparing a glance to the concerned customers who had to witness 2 grown men argue about a carton of eggs.
--
“And that’s why it took me nearly an hour to get eggs,” Zak concluded. He cracked one of the said eggs into his mixing bowl, giving Vincent a triumphant grin.
“So, let me get this straight. You kept stealing this guy’s eggs when he got them first, and wouldn’t leave him alone until he got so frustrated he just gave you his carton.”
Zak tossed the eggshell into the trash. “Pretty much.”
Vincent didn’t say anything, which forced Zak to look over at him. His expression communicated his thoughts clearly: The fuck?
“Don’t give me that look. I mean, we get to have pancakes now, and he doesn’t!” Zak tipped the bowl of pancake batter in Vincent’s direction for emphasis.
“That’s an ass move, dude. The guy just wanted to go shopping in peace, and now you won’t even be able to apologize because he’s probably never gonna go to that store again because you harassed him for a carton of eggs!”
Zak slowed his mixing for a moment, contemplating the other’s words. Yeah, it was pretty low. He felt kind of guilty now.
He shook his head. “Who cares? Too late to think about it now.”
--
Stupid Vincent, with his stupid morals and looks and making Zak feel bad. He felt ridiculous running around a grocery store with a Tupperware container of pancakes, looking like a mom who lost her kid. Hell, why was he still thinking about his “theft” a week later, after the blonde guy in glasses had probably forgotten all about the argument?
Zak suspected that maybe his friend was right, for once; glasses-guy was probably so traumatized by the invasion of his shopping cart that he vowed to never go back to this store again. Zak had even come back on a Tuesday at 4:13 PM, exactly--Zak assumed; he wasn’t paying too much attention to the time--a week after the incident. Maybe the man was one of those people who didn’t shop regularly and just showed up whenever they needed something?
At this rate, it didn’t matter. He went down each aisle at least 3 times to no avail. Once he hit the far right corner of the store, he just gave up and made his way to the exit.
Fate seemed to take pity on Zak after having its laugh about how pathetic he looked because there he was. He recognized the same hooded guy not too far from where they had their squabble. Zak made his way over.
--
Darryl had come back to the grocery store, figuring the weirdo probably wasn’t going to come at the exact time they'd met before; after all, he got what he came for. He had no reason to come back. Darryl, on the other hand, forgot half the things he needed to buy in his haste to get away from the selfish egg thief.
Darryl could feel his eye subconsciously twitch after hearing a... Very. Specific. Rustling sound.
“Look, you muffin,” Darryl said mid-turn, knowing who was there already, “you already got what you wanted from me! What more could you possibly w--”
Darryl got cut off when he felt a small plastic container shoved into his arms. He instinctively took hold of it, his voice trailing off slowly in confusion. He turned the box to the side to see what was inside of it.
Pancakes?
The other guy scratched the back of his neck. “Look, I know it was kind of stupid to just take your things out of your cart, so, I made something. From the eggs I took. For you.”
Wow. Darryl felt a bit silly now, picking a fight when that wasn't what the other guy wanted at all. His voice came out softer than before. “Aw, thank you. It’s not that big of a deal, you really didn’t have to apologize so dramatically.”
“I didn't apologize, I just.. Wanted to make something to rub my victory in. Shut up and take the stupid pancakes!” The guy hurried away, feeling warmth creep up his neck and not liking it.
“Wait, don’t leave ye--” Darryl didn’t get to finish his sentence. The guy had already dashed off out of range, the automated doors of the entrance opening to take him away.
He hadn’t gotten to ask what his name was. Darryl smiled fondly, shook his head, and turned back to the produce.
--
Vincent felt a yelp forced out of him after a pillow was slammed into his side. He’d been laughing on the couch for 2 minutes straight at this point, long after what was deemed normal.
“You’re so annoying, shut up! It’s your fault I even went looking for him in the first place.”
Vincent just laughed even harder in response. It took him another hit and a couple of seconds to calm down so he could speak again. “You got into a fight with some guy over a carton of eggs and now you have a crush on him. You are something else, man!”
“I do not have a crush. F-heck, I don’t even know his name.”
“Even better, you don't know his name and you still got a crush on him. Well, what does he look like?”
“He has blonde hair and green eyes, I think. They might’ve been brown? I couldn’t really tell. He wears glasses. Some square ones that make him look like a nerd. Oh, and he wears this hood that makes him look like the grim reaper, with this weird red trim around it.” Zak tried to describe the guy’s appearance nonchalantly, as though he hadn’t been thinking about his stupid face the entire week.
Vincent tilted his head, thinking. “Weell, maybe I know who you’re talking about. He sounds a bit like one of Cl--.”
Zak, who’d been circling around the couch while describing how the man looked, slammed his hands on the back of the couch Vincent was nestled into, startling his friend into looking up at him.
“I will give you the stars, the sun, and the moon itself for his phone number.”
“Hmm. I’ll give you his number. In return, though, you owe me a favor later.”
“Deal!”