Cheese, Spice, and Everything Nice
Had this brain rot in my head... Its leading to more brain rot... and a new ship...
Listening to the dull buzzing of the microwave, Shane sighed to himself, his eyes closed as he tried to relax for just a moment. He was on his legally required lunch break, the one thing keeping Joja Co. from working him until his back actually broke.
The smell of pepper poppers filled the small break room, the aroma strong and savory as they started to pop and sputter in the microwave. Shane couldn't help but feel his stomach growl in anticipation.
The microwave beeped, alerting him that the spicy goods were finished being nuked. Opening his eyes, he allowed himself a rare smile as he pulled out his food. He couldn’t help but remember the day the Farmer had first handed him a plate stacked high with these pepper poppers.
"You said you were bored of the frozen kind, so I made fresh ones!" they had exclaimed, eyes wide with excitement, bouncing eagerly on the balls of their feet as they waited for him to try one. They were the best Shane had ever tasted—spicy, cheesy, and full of flavor. It made him feel like someone had genuinely listened to him, cared about what he wanted.
The leftovers, in his opinion, were even better, with the flavors blending together over time. It wasn’t often someone besides Marnie cooked for him, just because he'd mentioned he wanted to try something new. It made him feel… special.
“Dude, that smells so good,” a voice suddenly broke through Shane's thoughts. His face fell flat as he turned to see Sam standing in the doorway, already leaning in as if drawn by the scent. The younger man’s eyes were practically glued to Shane's plate.
“Lemme snag one?” Sam asked, not even waiting for an answer as he leaned over Shane's shoulder, fingers wiggling in anticipation like a child reaching for candy.
“Nah,” Shane replied without missing a beat, pulling his plate closer to himself, body-blocking Sam. “This is the last of what Farmer gave me.” He took his seat at the wobbly, outdated table, ready to savor every bite.
Sam’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “Aw, come on, man! Just one, they smell so good!”
"They are," Shane muttered, taking his first bite with exaggerated satisfaction, making sure Sam saw how good it was.
Sam sighed dramatically, tearing open the package of his frozen mac and cheese. “You know, it’s kinda funny,” he said, tossing his meal into the microwave. “Farmer doesn’t even like spicy food.”
Shane paused mid-bite, blinking in surprise. "What? They don’t?"
"Nope," Sam said, smirking. "Tried to give 'em some hot chips once. They wouldn’t touch them. Said something about not wanting their mouth to burn."
Shane sat there, chewing slowly as he processed this revelation. He looked down at the pepper poppers, the warmth of them still radiating through the plate. “You’re serious?” he asked, disbelief clear in his tone.
“Dead serious,” Sam replied, punching the microwave buttons to start cooking his meal. “Kinda funny, huh? Making pepper poppers when they won’t even eat a single hot chip.”
Shane’s mind drifted back to the excitement in Farmer's eyes, the way they’d watched him take that first bite, practically holding their breath. He had assumed it was just because they were proud of their cooking. But now…
Shane felt a strange tightness in his chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the spicy peppers. He thought about all the times the Farmer had shown up with little gifts, the way they always seemed to be there when he needed a bit of kindness. It was hard to wrap his head around it. “That’s… kind of ridiculous,” Shane mumbled, a small frown forming on his lips.
“Why would they do that?” Shane muttered, mostly to himself.
Sam shrugged, tapping a beat with his fingers idly on the countertop as he waited for his food to heat up. “Maybe they just wanted to see you smile.”
Shane snorted, though the hint of a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, right. You think anyone actually cares that much?”
“Why not?” Sam countered, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. “Farmer’s always doing stuff like that for people. They’re just… nice.”
“Nice,” Shane repeated, tasting the word as if it were something foreign. He stared at the pepper poppers, the golden crust glistening from the melted cheese. He bit his lip, his heart giving a faint thud in his chest. “Yeah,” he murmured, “I guess they are…”
Sam watched him for a moment, his expression softening. “You know, Shane,” he said, his voice more serious than usual, “sometimes, it’s okay to let people care about you.”
Shane stiffened, the words striking deeper than he’d like to admit. “I’m not looking for a therapy session kid,” he grumbled, turning his attention back to his plate, though the warmth spreading through his chest was hard to ignore.
“Yeah, yeah, Mr. Tough Guy.” Sam rolled his eyes, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Just saying.”
Shane didn’t respond, but as he took another bite, savoring the blend of spicy heat and cheesy goodness, he couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—Sam was onto something.
A comfortable silence settled between them, interrupted only by the hum of the microwave and the faint tick of the clock on the wall. Shane could feel Sam’s gaze lingering, but for once, he didn’t mind it.
“Hey,” Sam said suddenly, breaking the silence. “If you ever feel like sharing those pepper poppers… y’know, I’m always around.”
Shane huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t push your luck, Samson.”
“Damn, worth a shot,” Sam grinned. "…But seriously," he added with a casual shrug, "it's nice seeing you like this. You’re, I dunno, more cool when you're not glaring at everyone."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" Shane asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"Take it however you want," Sam replied with a chuckle. "I mean, you're still grumpy, but you’re not as… I dunno, angry all the time."
Shane’s expression softened, though he kept his eyes on his plate. “Maybe I’ve just had a good reason,” he muttered, more to himself than to Sam.
Sam's grin widened, but he didn’t press any further. “Keep it up then. It’s a good look on you.”
"Don't make it weird," Shane muttered, but there was no real bite in his tone.
Sam simply snickered, pushing himself off the counter. “Alright, alright. I’ll leave you to your precious pepper poppers.” He gave Shane a lazy salute and started heading toward the door, playfully pretending to snatch a pepper popper on his way out.
“Touch my plate, and you’ll lose a fucking finger,” Shane shot back, but this time, there was a genuine smile on his face.
