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December 2012 marked the end of the Mayan calander. Everywhere doomsayers claimed it was the End of Days. But the 21st of December came and went without even a hiccup. No asteroid fell from space, no alien overlords came to reclaim the planet. Humanity didn't even manage to fry itself by accidentally releasing nuclear war heads or by drinking the contaminated Kool-Aid. By noon everyone accepted that they needed to carry on and finish their Christmas shopping.
That was four days ago and now it was December 25th. The doors were open at ShopRite Drug, just like they were open the other 364 days of the year. The only difference was the place was empty. Sam, his name tag read right above the words Asst. Manager, looked out over his aisles devoid of shoppers. There had only been five customers and two shoplifters in the past four hours. For years this day had been the busiest of the year since ShopRite was the only corporation soulless enough to stay open. If you're the only place in town with butter and bread on Christmas, you're going to sell a lot of it, as well as chocolate and novelty underwear.
It worked out great until the Ultra Mart down the street decided they could be soulless ass-hats too. Now everyone was going there for their groceries, novelty boxers, while also picking up the season's hottest toys in bulk. Last year's so-so Barbie just doesn't cut it by comparison. It was as if the Mayans were four days off their prediction at least as far as the business on the corner of Oak and Third was concerned.
So, one by one, Sam sent his employees home to their families. It was a hour before closing. The only people left on the property were himself and the day laborer ringing the bell for the Salvation Army. The poor guy stood outside, bundled in every knitted piece of clothing he owned. He was still slowly freezing to death as he waited for loose change to fall from the sky.
Sam ran a hand through his hair. There was no one in the store. The chances of someone coming into the store this late on Christmas were slim to none. No one would notice if he locked up an hour early. The store was clean, the money deposited and accounted for. Sam could head home now and eat his turkey TV dinner while he listened to his brother snore where he slepted the couch without anyone being the wiser.
For some reason, that plan didn't appeal to him as much as it did this afternoon. It just seemed so, well, lonely.
Sam's gazed shifted outside again. The volunteer was hunched down into the cavern of his coat. At least it looked like a good coat. Dark grey wool with a fleecy lining. It was still cold as balls outside as his Uncle Bobby would say. Sam was bored but at least he was bored and warm. That stranger was probably equally bored but freezing his ass off outside. Sam really didn't see how he could possibly do anything other than what he was about to do.
The automatic door slid open buffering Sam in a blast of icy air. He reflexively wrapped his arms around himself. The bell ringer's eyes fixed on Sam from over the top of his scarf. His eyes were the only thing Sam could see between the scarf and woolen hat. There may not be snow on the ground, but it was cold enough for it.
"Hey," said Sam.
"Hey?" came the muffled reply.
"So, ah. Would you like to come inside? There's hot coffee and a ton of food in the break room. A couple of the cashiers brought stuff in for Christmas," said Sam. "You could come inside and warm up before you head home. Maybe take some stuff home for later?"
The bell ringer pulled down his scarf. Sam recognized him now. This day laborer had been their bell ringer for most of the season. In fact, he was the only one Sam had seen whenever he came to work. That was unusual. More often than not the person changed daily, but this guy, he probably been here every day since December 1st.
"I can't leave the kettle," the guy said.
"Oh." said Sam. Of course he couldn't leave the money unattended. "Right. Sorry."
"If you help me bring it in, kiddo, that be great. The base is heavy like a son of a bitch," the guy flashed Sam crooked smile.
"Yeah, sure. Here let me get that," said Sam. The guy pulled up and the pole the kettle was padlocked to came off from the metal disk base. Sam picked it up. The ringer wasn't kidding, the thing weighted at least forty pounds. The guy brushed passed Sam leaving the scent of peppermint and lavender in his wake. Sam followed him back into the store. He put the base down behind the main cash register and the guy seated the pole back into place.
"Thanks, Sam," the guy said as he peeled off his hat and scarf. Dark blonde hair curled at the man's coat collar that was about as long as Sam's own. He was almost a foot shorter than Sam, and maybe ten years older. Yet there was something light and youthful about him.
"You're welcome, uhm, sorry, I don't know your name," Sam shrugged.
"It's Gabe. Don't worry about it. No one here has ever asked my name. If it makes you feel better, out of all the schmucks who work here, you've given Sally Annie the most change. I'm sure she appreciates it," Gabe shoved his gloves into his pocket. "So, how about that coffee?"
"Yeah. Here, let me just lock the doors so no one can get in," said Sam. After pulling the doors shut tight, he turned the thumb bolts, effectively locking everyone out and them in.
A shiver ran down Sam's back as an errant thought stomped into his mind. He turned back to Gabe.
"You're not an ax murder or anything, are you?"
"No. Pedophile. How old are you anyway?" asked Gabe with a leer. "Just kidding. I've been proven harmless in a court of law more than once. If you ask me nicely, I might let you frisk me later though."
Sam huffed out a laugh. Oh yeah, definitely something twisted about this guy. Well, two could play at that game.
"Be careful. I just might take you up on that offer," said Sam. "Come on. The break room is back this way."
Sam walked down the aisles through beauty and bar soap to a door wedged between shelves of merchandise. Once through the door you could tell you had transitioned from public space to private space by the change in lighting. Gone was the x-ray level florescent lights. They were replaced with a warmer hued ceiling fixture. Gabe stuck close behind Sam as they wandered down a short hallway. At the second door on the right Sam pushed it open and Gabe let out a low whistle of appreciation.
Early in the holiday season a group of the younger women had decorated the break room for the holidays. A string of multi colored Christmas lights was entwined with silver garland to circle the room. At random spots on the cord hung glittery ornaments and paper gift tags in the shape of snowmen. It gave the impression of a Christmas tree without having one choking up all the space in the small room. While he would never admit it out loud, Sam had been seeking his lunch break in here instead of the office like he normally did. The glow from the lights kind of bolstered his waning bank of holiday cheer.
"So have a seat," said Sam.
Gabe grabbed one of the plastic chairs around the small table. At least Sam thought there was still a table under all the cookies and fudge. There were also a few savory dishes. Manjula had brought some sort of fried potato sandwich that was super spicy. Tessa brought deviled eggs, but no one thought to put them in the fridge so they were probably a biohazard. Sam dumped them into the trash as he flipped on the coffee pot. As the aroma of fresh Joe filled the small space, Sam pulled some more things out of the refrigerator. The boss dropped off a ham yesterday. There was also a cheese plate and some dinner rolls. He also pulled out the least scary looking of the gelatin molds. It was green with crushed pineapple, which made so much more sense than orange and shredded carrots.
When Sam turned around his eye found Gabe. The slight of him made Sam very aware he liked guys. While Sam played host Gabe had made himself at home by stripping off his coat and gloves. Underneath that nice looking jacket Gabe wore a very soft green sweater and a white dress shirt with a red pin stripe. Sam let his gaze wander under the table. The shoes down there were well made and leather though scuffed at the toe. Sam looked back up to find Gabe watching Sam examine him while he chewed the head off an angel shaped sugar cookie. Sam felt a smile quirk up his lip.
"You're not homeless, are you?" asked Sam.
"Ah, no. Very far from homeless actually," said Gabe. He put the cookie back on the plate. It may still have been from the cold, but his cheeks were bright red. "Not that I want to go home. But if your offer of coffee and dinner is forfeit unless I'm on food stamps, then I guess it's not my charm that got me this invite. Which is kind of a blow to my sizable ego. So, I'll just tuck my tail between my legs and go." Gabe pushed his chair noisily back from the table.
As he moved to grab his coat Sam dropped the gelatin on the table and grabbed Gabe's wrist. Something unexpected fluttered in his stomach. The skin under his fingers was soft and warm to the touch. Sam rubbed across it and felt Gabe's pulse jump under his flesh.
"No. Stay. Please Gabe," said Sam. I want you to. I want this and I don't know why hung around them like the imagined scent of pine trees.
"Yeah. Me too," answered Gabe to Sam's silent plea. He cleared his throat and thumped Sam on the shoulder with his free hand. "Let's start with coffee and cookies, and then, if we still have room, ham sandwiches? But first, this thing."
Gabe slipped out of Sam's grasp to pick up one of the potato sandwiches. He bit off a large hunk with gusto. Sam watched as Gabe's eyes started to water as the chili flakes hit his sinuses. He definitely was not laughing his ass off by the time he gave Gabe a cup of eggnog to stop the burning.
So deep in the back room of ShopRite two strangers spent the last hour of Christmas exchanging stories and eating food made by others. Sam talked about his brother Dean and all the jerky big brother things he had done over the years. Gabe told story after story about his brothers that made it clear he was the jerky older brother. He had so many siblings, Sam couldn't keep them straight. They laughed about nothing at all until Gabe snorted cookie out of his nostril. Their fingers kept bumping against each other as they reach for food. Sam swore Gabe waited to grab something after he saw Sam heading that way on purpose. It was the purest form of flirting Sam had ever known. The pit of his stomach shimmered with butterflies and his face hurt from smiling.
By two o'clock most of the edible food was gone. The coffee pot sat dirty on the counter. At some point the offensive orange Jello got a new home in the microwave. Sam wouldn't let Gabe turn it on no matter how much he begged to see what would happen. To appease him the plate of potato sandwiches ended up with a road block made from the carrots from the veggie tray.
"Now that we've ended the holiday with an act of civil service, I guess we should head out?" ask Gabe.
"Yeah. I'm sure Dean's noticed I'm not home yet. There's probably a bunch of texts messages from him asking where the hell I am," sighed Sam. "Come on."
They got up from the table. Sam looked at the mess but Gabe just pushed him out into the hall. Instead of heading for the door, Sam went to the cloak room and got his things. Gabe kept silently by his side. All around them was wrapped a filmy bubble of null space. Inside it they were just two guys who were enjoying each others company on Christmas. Once the bubble shattered Sam knew they would have to lable this. Was it the start of something? Was it a one night stand or possibly a romance? Were they just strangers on a train, or any port in a storm, or some other abuismal cliché that meant two people who mean nothing?
"I can see smoke coming out your ears, Sammo. Stop thinking so hard."
Sam laughed. They opened the door and stepped out back into the main store, both cringing at the return to the florescent lights.
"Sorry. Over thinking is a character flaw of mine," said Sam.
"Oh really? Then why are you working here?" ask Gabe.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. Dominos of circumstance pushed him here. It was a job when he needed a job most after their dad's death. Pay got better, but he still felt unfulfilled.
"I don't know. I've just been comfortable. People are suppose to hate their jobs, right?" said Sam. "Maybe I'm just waiting for something better to come along."
"That doesn't happen, kiddo. If you want something better, you have to go find it yourself," said Gabe. "Unless something better finds you."
Gabe put both hands on Sam's face and pulled him down. Sam nervously licked his lips, anticipation thrumming through his body. Gabe didn't disappoint. The kiss was alive with possibility. Sweet and a little wet but oh so perfect. As Gabe pulled away, Sam chased him with his lips until it was time to stop kissing Gabe or bend himself in half.
Gabe patted Sam's cheek with a mumble that sounded a lot like later. Gabe unlocked the door and let himself out. After setting the burglar alarm, Sam met him on the sidewalk outside, locking up behind him.
"Here," said Gabe, thrusting out a business card. "The number on the back is my personal cell. Call me?"
There was almost a plea in Gabe's words. Sam smiled. So this was the start of something, not just a one shot.
"Sure. What are you doing on New Year's Eve?"