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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 5 years

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We're both fighting over the last packet of ramen at target because we're both broke college students + sabriel. Thank you.

Sam spotted the only remaining packet of ramen, lying forlorn, at the far behind of the shelf after he'd already given up hopes of dinner that night, and was sulking in another aisle. Once he had, though, he instantly abandoned his (ironic) half-hearted toilet-paper shopping, and rushed.

The faster he was done with this, the sooner he'd be able to return to his notes.

But while he was still a full metre away, a much smaller guy seemed to cut into the race and snatch it up. "Ah!" Said the guy, not having seen Sam at all. "I knew squatting to a cat's eye-level for a once-over, is always the key to all things good."

Sam made a small, whining noise in his throat; that he didn't exactly intend to make. That got the guy's attention, and soon he had a pair of clear brown eyes turned up at him, enquiring. Uncertain, as he held the packet in his hand. He looked weary, in spite of the humor in his words, but then in college campus during finals, everyone does.

Fuck, Sam's chest almost hurt, upon realization. He was going to have to fight this guy for that stupid packet of ramen. He needed that. But - this guy looked so small. He -

What had his life even come to, for Christ's sake?

Sam sighed, holding his hand out, hoping for the guy to not protest too much. "Excuse me, but I saw that ramen first."

The query in his eyes gave way to a defensive glare, as he clutched the packet to his chest. "Well, I ran all the way from the cashier's counter, so I don't think so!"

Sam swallowed, not taking his outstretched hand away, yet. "Dude, you don't get it. I need that."

"Well, I need it too!" He glared back. Sam blinked at him, trying to do the 'puppy-eye' stare that Dean and others at home always said worked really well. But probably, being stressed off his ass about the next day, and hungry without a single full meal since the previous day's lunch didn't help his convincing quota. Because the guy kept glaring at him. "Move! I need to get back to the dorm."

"You can go." Sam frowned, only just realizing that he accidentally had the smaller guy cornered. "Just - you're not getting it, I need that packet, okay? Give it to me. Please." Sam made a reach for it, stretching towards him. His voice was raised.

The blond shuffled backwards till he had his back against the shelve, with a sound of metal. "Hands off, man. This is mine." His voice held more courage than his eyes did. He looked sort of terrified, and Sam hated himself already, for doing what he did next.

He made another move for it, leaning till he had him pinned - but he didn't have his heart in it, so instantly, the other guy was wriggling away, and this time, with a proper frown. "What the fuck, dude?" He declared, and didn't look half as scared as Sam felt, at this point. "I told you to get away; I'll call the goddamn Target security on your ass, if you touch me again!"

Sam's voice cracked in the middle of saying, "I'm sorry, I -"

"Make yourself another fucking packet, if you 'need' one." He had his voice raised too. "Or go get something else. Or to another store. This one's mine!"

Sam knew he wouldn't possibly fight this guy for it. He knew he could, he'd probably have him in like a minute - sorry, but the guy was short and skinny - and Sam had experience. But he knew he wouldn't, because the thought made him ache, again.

(Maybe what hurt was his stomach, and not his chest, because that would make a lot more sense.)

"I can't buy something else, or go to another store." Despite how hopeless he felt, he kept his voice flat. He struggled to, but he didn't want to have a breakdown in the middle of a Target store in front of someone who he was trying to take ramen from - when he hadn't even had a conversation about this with Dean before. "Maybe you could do that." Please do that, his eyes begged.

The guy crossed his arms on his chest, against his oversized Stanford hoodie. "I can't do that." He emphasized, in a deadbeat tone. And then, on half a wry chuckle, trying to make it sound light perhaps, he added. "I'm so totally broke."

And that was that. It was the end of things. It was hearing that fucking word that made him lose it.

Of course he didn't start breaking stuff in the aisle and getting hysterical - he literally couldn't afford to, but that word seemed to shatter the last of his walls. A single tear rolled down his face, and his cheeks heated up with the realization of it. "Hell, me too." He strangled out of a choked throat, screwing his eyes shut completely, on having finally uttered those damn words.

("But hey, ask me for whatever cash you need, okay? Trust me. I'll get it." Dean had added, at the end of the announcement of his recent unemployment, following Bobby Singer's death. His older brother was only 24, but already worked so many jobs to pay for them, and since their dad's death, he had been wearing himself thin trying to support the both of them, and Sam couldn't possibly ask him for more - even though, for it to be 'more', he needed to have asked for a single thing before it. He never even had to do that, because Dean just did everything. And now, he was struggling himself and trying to keep Sam happy by offering to send him more money and Sam hadn't even spared a single second of thought to his own condition before firmly shaking his head.)

But now, the other guy moved towards him, the glare melting away, as he puts his hands on Sam's forearms. "Dude, you good?"

"No, I'm not, okay?" He let out, wondering why how he got here - crying in front of a complete stranger, in Target, over fucking ramen. But he wasn't going to get into his sob-story right now. Not to a random person, not like this. Not when he still had shit to cram when he got home, and needed to concentrate and not spend the night drowning himself in tears he'd gathered over the last many years.

"Hey, hey, hey," A voice interrupted him. "I'm worried - Sam, isn't it? I think you're in one of my classes somewhere, I'm Gabriel, hello there - and calm down, alright? Is this about the ramen, because if it means that much to you -"

Sam eyes him uncertainly, blinking away the tears that are still pricking away at his eyes. He can hardly breathe properly. "I - I am so sorry, okay? I didn't mean to -" He begins, harshly shoving the palm of his hand against his eyes, and the guy - Gabriel - shakes his head.

"You're holding it together, okay? Don't worry about it, you're good, okay?" Gabriel says, keeps saying, until he's said it so many times that Sam can say it to himself.

"Yeah. Yes. Yes, I am." He mutters, morose and still feeling crappy about this entire ordeal. "I - I just haven't eaten a single thing since about 8 am, and that was only a stupid fucking cup of coffee in the college canteen because I didn't have the one extra dollar for sandwiches. And the last meal I had was yesterday, and I don't know what to do anymore, because I have my goddamn final tomorrow, and I don't know how I'll get through those three hours without passing out at this rate, and I just -"

"What? You have a final tomorrow?" Gabriel interrupted him, looking very concerned. "You should've said that before, Sam. You know what? We're getting you back to the dorm."

"But I -"

"Oh, shuddup" Sam frowned, but he went on nonetheless. "You should've played the 'finals' card before, plus you should've told me the passing-out-part, dumbass." Sam looked ashamed of himself. "At least now I know you're a giant idiot, who doesn't even know how to use his trauma into getting a ramen from a little softie like me. Listen to me. You look like crap, and I don't know you enough and there's all of that, but I know you won't try to hijack this ramen from me anymore, so you know what? We'll just share."

Sam had a loose smile on his lips, from the 'hijack', and he wasn't completely in his head either, so he weakly nodded. "Thank you."

"And 'cause you've got to study," Gabriel shrugged. "I mean, obviously you're at least a little bit dumb because of afore mentioned cards that you didn't use, so I recommend that you go to your room and study, and I'll make the ramen. What room are you in?"

Sam almost protested - because this guy seemed really nice, and pretty cool and all of that, and come to think of it, he had heard of him before - but what if he didn't come, and what if he -

But he didn't have to say it. Gabriel seemed to understand, all by himself. It stunned Sam how someone could comprehend his complicated trust-issues so simply, but Gabriel did. "Or, you know what, you could resume revising and I'll make the ramen in your room, okay?"

"Communal kitchen," Sam swallowed.

Gabriel nodded. "Alright. Come on."

Gabriel offers to drive him back in his car, and Sam blinks at him incredulously, because he usually takes the college bus, which is never really on time, and doesn't go many places - but has to work for him. But then he doesn't say anything about it, because he knows the 'there's broke, and then there's broke with a capital B' concept too well.

While he slumps in his seat, shoulders folded in, he is hit by the realization that his wallet is no lighter than it already was, and becomes aware of the fact that Gabriel paid those thirteen cents.

And to think Sam had been trying to fight him for it, made him want to bury himself under the cheap fake-leather seatcover, to avoid having to face Gabriel's kind, concerned eyes.

It's after he's been sat at his table for almost a half hour that Gabriel comes in, with a tray, a bowl of steaming ramen and spoons. Sam is already feeling more in his element, because until he's flipped through every page of his syllabus, he never does feel prepared - and now he's way more confident than he was before, and that also may have something to do with the fact that he gets to look forward to dinner.

Gabriel hands the whole tray to him with a small smile. "There ya go, Sammich." Sam is kind of engrossed in learning a definition, so before he's free to hold it, Gabriel has already put it on his table. He stands by it, looking slightly proud of himself. Or maybe Sam. Maybe both.

"Thank you, uh," Sam mumbles under his breath, his breaths tightening again. "Thank you very much, Gabriel."

"Nevermind." He nodded.

"No, I really do need to thank you, Gabe." Sam says, and he isn't even thinking too much at this point. "You're really nice, and I, uh, hope I can repay you some way for doing this for me, soon."

"Don't think about it right now." Gabriel says, and urges Sam to have his dinner while it's still hot. "I made it for you, hon. Tell me how it is, honey," He teases, in a caricature of a suburban wife.

"It's amazing." Sam promises.

Gabriel sticks around for a while after Sam's eaten - it's not a lot to eat, even though Sam could bet he got the larger half, but he has company to talk to while he eats, so it stays for a longer time.

They talk, and then Gabriel picks up Sam's Ethical Law Handbook for kicks and Sam has an idea, which he bashfully suggests. Gabriel has absolutely nothing against quizzing him on chapter 5, to his sheer delight - he justifies it saying that he's already done with all of his finals, and would probably just go home and sleep anyways, and learning a bit of Ethics couldn't suck that much - and they do that past midnight because Gabriel is into it too, and Sam knows it helps.

Angels might not exist, but there are some people very close to being that kind of good, he decides, on a sleepy note after Gabriel has gone back to his own room. He doesn't have time to think about more cheesy things, and goes to sleep almost immediately after - dreaming of Gabriel, who's "hijacking" ramen at gunpoint, in an aeroplane, for some reason.

The next day, after a surprisingly satisfactory exam - he'll get more than most, and way more than the required grade, he's sure - he goes back to Target.

Since they haven't restocked yet, he goes to another one - taking the college bus, and has to walk all the way back (because the bus is absolutely and completely unreliable, is why) to their dorm. And this time, he's the one knocking at Gabriel's door, with a packet of uncooked ramen in his hand, nervous of what he's about to do.

Gabriel opens the door, wearing shorts under a Marvel t-shirt, but lets Sam in easily. "How hard did you rock the paper, Sammoose?"

"Sufficiently hard," Sam supplies, smiling wide.

Gabriel sees the packet in his hand, and it's his turn to smile. "Paying me back, are you?"

"Sure. But I only owe you three-fourths of it, so maybe I can stay and finish my one-fourth portion with you?" Sam says, and it's borderline hopeful, but what he doesn't expect is for Gabriel to laugh.

"I was beginning to wonder when I was going to get asked out for all of my good deeds," He winked, and takes the packet from Sam's hand and walks over to his kitchen. Sam follows him there, with a laugh himself.

"Doing it out of the goodness of your heart is more attractive, Gabe, but nevermind." He grinned, and without really thinking about it, joins Gabriel in the kitchen - well, to help with all the "cooking" that instant noodles need.

***

Aaaaand - DONE! Whoa, this was supposed to be a LOT shorter than it is now, but I dunno, I couldn't come up with a funny ending so it kept going and became sad. Will edit it later, I've gotta rush to studying myself 🍪 But here's a word out to the tribe: @ctrl-alt-destiel @emmii4 @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @styggtroll @adventurous-blob @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @moderatelypanickedbiromantic @elvenlicht @legendary-destiel @noemithenephilim @galaxy-charm @trenchcoatsandfreckles @naitia @ladywaywarddsc @zoerayne2426 @thekidsmaybealright @hellfire37 @3dg310rdsupreme @impulsivedandelion @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect Do lemme know if you want to be added or removed from the list! Or if there's specific stuff you wanna be tagged for, and not me answering the prompts I've received (*eeeee's happily* thank you so muuuch, croutons) because I'll probably be fitting a lot of writing in, this weekend? So stay tuned, I guess. I love y'all! Have an amazing daaaay ~

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