Sam stared at his phone in confusion, wondering who was calling him at two thirty in the morning. He sighed. It was probably Dean, who needed a ride home from some bar. Again. He rolled out of bed and flipped open the receiver.
"Hiiiiiiiii~ You sound hot! Are you hot? You’ve got that gruff voice going on, I bet you talk people to orgasms, don’tcha? Are you hot enough to talk people to orgasms?"
Sam stared at his phone in horror before hitting the disconnect button. What the everliving FUCK had that been? He waited a few minutes to make sure that whoever it had been wouldn’t call back before he collapsed back on the bed. Damnit. It would take him forever to get back to sleep and he was going to be tired all the next day. Fuck.
Not only was he tired, Sam had woken up with barely twenty minutes to get to class and had stumbled in just after 9:00am to fall into his seat at the front of his class. He pulled out his laptop and opened it, staring blearily at the chalkboard. Notes. He had to take notes.
Halfway through class, his phone beeped, reminding him that he had forgotten to silence it this morning after he had woken up. Sam fumbled with it and managed to silence the ring and flushed when Mr. Singer turned to glare at him.
"Something you would like to share with the class Mr. Winchester?"
Sam shook his head frantically. That was the last thing he needed, someone looking at his phone and mocking him for the dorky texts he sometimes sent his friends (just to make them laugh though, not because he’s not a dork, not really).
When class was over, Sam sighed and flipped his phone open, surprised to see a message from…oh my god! It was the number from last night. He opened it and stared at it.
'Hey, so, you were the unfortunate victim of my drunk dial last night. I'm sorry about that. Can I make it up to you? Maybe with coffee?'
Tired as he was, Sam was not about to turn down a free coffee, especially since the whole thing was this guy’s fault. He tapped out a response quickly.
'If you're anywhere near the Stanford commons, I'll meet you at the Student Union.'
Sam smiled and stretched, half hoping the guy was on the other side of the city and he could just forget this ever happened. And still pick up a cup of coffee. His phone chimed.
'Already there. See you shortly.'
Sam blushed and stared at his phone, looking up at the quiet and unassuming building. What if it was one of his classmates? What if it was some creeper who preyed on college students who was trying to lure him in with the promise of coffee? Regardless of what the answer was, Sam found that his feet had brought him to the door of the union.
He sighed. Well, at least there would be witnesses to his murder. He pushed the door open and looked around. No one looked out of place. A TA was sitting next to the window, surrounded by papers that he was working his way towards. A couple more people were scattered around, most still blinking into their cups of coffee.
"So you must be my unfortunate mistake this morning."
Sam looked up…then down….and was surprised to see the TA from the window standing in front of him with a wry grin on his lips. “Uh, yes?”
The TA laughed. “Clearly you need some caffeine. Let’s get you some and sit down and I can apologize for what happened last night.”
"Oh no, that isn’t-"
"I insist." The TA said, steering the tall (holy shit he didn’t know they still made them this tall) student towards the front counter. "Just tell them to put it on Gabriel’s tab."
"Gabriel?" Sam asked, even more confused.
"Yup. That’d be me, infact. Gabriel Milton, at your servcie, and unfortunately, the cause for your lack of sleep. So, let’s get you caffeinated and we can sit down, you can watch me swear over shitty freshman grammar and drink your coffee."
Sam found himself smiling as he ordered coffee for himself and pointed to Gabriel by the window. The guy, someone quiet that he recognized from his Calc class gave him a nod and passed the coffee over.
He took a long, precious sip and groaned. Life-giving nectar. Wonderful, wonderful thing. Sam made his way back over to Gabriel’s table.
"I honestly wonder what some of these idiots were doing during high school english. There, their and they’re are not that complicated. I get mixing up the lays. I still do that sometimes, but man. Really? This is fourth grade shit right here." Gabriel grumbled, putting a red line through another sentence.
Sam chuckled. “Not all students can be valedictorians you know.”
Gabriel looked up at Sam. “Is that what you were?”
"No, salutatorian, actually." Sam gave a sheepish smile. "I suppose I shouldn’t complain. You are the ones reading the mistakes after all."
"Hmm, makes sense." Gabriel stuck the pen between his lips and chewed on it for a long moment.
"So why did you call me?" Sam asked, sipping his coffee again, raising an eyebrow when Gabriel looked up and…was he blushing?
"The usual reasons one makes an accidental drunk dial. I was far drunker than I should have been, I was horny, and I was desperate for a booty call. I dialed the wrong number, called someone who sounded hot as fuck - and I’m pleased to see I’m not wrong there," Gabriel said with a wink before continuing. "And woke him up out of a dead sleep."
Sam stared down at the lid of his cup and fiddled with it. “It’s not a big deal. I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve done something like that, so I’m…well, not used to it, obviously, but…” He shrugged.
Gabriel smiled and looked at the kid over the edge of his wire-rim glasses. He watched the kid blush again. Hm. Apparently he liked the glasses. “Let me make it up to you properly?”
"Coffee’s more than-"
"Dinner. I mentioned you were hot, didn’t I?" Gabriel said, finishing off his own coffee and setting it to the side.
Sam flushed. “Are you…uh…asking…me out?” He asked, hesitant.
"Yup. You’re gorgeous, I’m gorgeous, and this way, you’ll actually keep my number in your phone and I will know better than to drunk dial you at two in the morning."
This time he laughed. It was impossible not to. Gabriel was…overwhelming. “What makes you so sure that I’m going to say yes?”
Gabriel licked his lips and watched those hazel eyes drop to stare at him. “Because you want to know what my tongue feels like on your dick. So do I in fact. Seems the quickest way to get us there.”
Sam choked. “Are you always this forward?”
"Would you prefer old-fashioned woo-ing?" Gabriel asked curiously.
"Not, not, really, but christ Gabriel, you just met me. You don’t even know my name."
"Exactly. Despite all of that, I want my tongue on your cock. I want you fucking my throat and I would really prefer to have it sooner rather than later. As I mentioned."
Sam shifted nervously and adjusted himself in his pants. They needed to quit this. Now. “Uhhh…Gabriel…”
"Tell me your name beautiful?" Gabriel asked, resting his hand in the palm of his hand.
"Sam." Gabriel let the word roll off his tongue and watched the kid shiver. "So Sam. You, me, dinner? Potential blowjobs depending on the success?"
Sam swallowed and stared at Gabriel, trying to figure out if he was sincere or not. “Uh, all right.”
"Excellent." Gabriel purred. He let his eyes trail down over Sam’s torso and watched the kid flush again. "Tonight. Seven thirty."
Sam wanted to protest. He did. But…well. Gabriel DID owe him for waking him up. “All right.”
Gabriel pushed a stack of papers at Sam and a spare red pen. “Here.”
Bemused, Sam took up the pen and started working his way through the papers. He…could get used to this.