Prompt from cageyklio on April 27th, 2010
Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam, The day Gabriel marked Sam
Sam's good with information, always has been. Facts, figures, dates, trivia of all sorts – storing information comes naturally to him and it's something he's kinda proud of, frankly. No matter how much Dean razzes him about his gigantic brain and all that crap.
So it irks him a little that it takes him so long to realize what's possibly going on with Gabriel today. The archangel – scratch that, former archangel, and man that's not ever not going to be weird – has taken "royal pain in the ass" to new heights. Even for him. Mood splattered all over the map, and if he could still pop around time and space the way he used to, Sam's sure Gabriel would have been long gone. The apocalypse had changed all of them in ways Sam never could have imagined, even with the best alcoholic assistance.
Not that they're all bad changes, though; not by a looong shot. Sam smiles and rubs absently at his hip, remembering – and stops. Shit. Is that it?
He tracks Gabriel down in the kitchen, which is not surprising because among the things Gabriel still does is eat like a horse, and the sugar addiction hasn't abated one bit. Talking is going to be futile, at least at first, so Sam simply walks up behind Gabriel and wraps long arms around him.
Gabriel elbows him in the gut and pushes, but Sam's expecting that and holds on. Gabriel's still far stronger than Sam and if he really wants to get away, he will. Sam's betting that he doesn't really want to.
It takes a few minutes, but finally Gabriel huffs and goes human in Sam's embrace, and Sam rests his cheek against soft chestnut hair and just holds on. "Why didn't you just say something?" he asks eventually.
"What, and spoil the surprise?" Sarcasm, oh, there's another thing Gabriel hasn't lost.
Sam snorts. "You know, I think we don't look at this the same way."
Gabriel tenses again. "You died, Sam. Two years ago today, you died, and I got a ringside seat for every painful, messy, fun-filled moment of it. How do you think I should look at it?"
Sam pulls one of Gabriel's hands down to rest it over Sam's hip, where the mark of Gabriel's hand is burned into Sam's skin. "As the day you gave me this, of course. The day I found out the truth."
"You weren't ever supposed to know," Gabriel mutters. But he leans back, pressing his head against Sam's shoulder. His hand tightens, much like it had on that day when he'd refused, even at the price of a major chunk of his own grace, to let Sam go.
"That you wanted me? Even better, that you love me?" Sam grins and kisses Gabriel's ear. "Too late now."
Title: Exclusive Invitation
Prompt: from cageyklio on May 5th, 2010 10:59 am (UTC)Supernatural, Gabriel/Sam, It's a party in my pants and you're invited
"Oh, I think that totally calls for a celebration, don't you?" Sam's smile is hot and wicked, and as genuinely happy as Gabriel's ever seen him.
"Did I hear you say 'party,' Sam?"
To Gabriel's delight, Sam heaves himself up from his chair and ambles right on over to where Gabriel is sitting on the counter, not stopping until he's put himself smack between Gabriel's legs. "I think you did," Sam says, and leans big hands against the cabinets behind Gabriel, trapping him in a Sam-cage. "But not that one in the living room. This one, here."
What Sam means is made completely clear by the little wriggle of his hips as he scoots as close as he can, his thighs solid between Gabriel's. "Private party," he says, breath warm and only a little beery. "Just you and me."
Hot damn. "Then how about we take this someplace more private? Purely for your delicate sensibilities, of course," Gabriel murmurs, running his hands over Sam's hips and forward, slipping his fingers into Sam's waistband and his thumbs over the beautiful bulge under the denim.
Sam mm-mms low in his throat, hips trying to push into Gabriel's hands. "Sold. How about right now?"
Gabriel starts to reach for a place they can be alone. And stops. And grins. "How about – right here?" And snaps his fingers.
All sound – from the party in the next room, from the appliances in the kitchen, everything – everything simply stops. Sam blinks. "Gabriel? Did you just –"
Gabriel hums happily as he traps Sam's legs with his own and goes to work on Sam's belt. "I did. I was promised a party in your pants – I think you should deliver. Right here." He slips his hands into Sam's jeans and Sam's just tall enough that Gabriel can work the underwear down and hook it beneath Sam's balls. "And right now."
"Gabriel!" Sam hisses and throws his head back. But he doesn't protest any more as Gabriel works him, conjuring a little lube to ease the way. Sam's thrusting in no time, panting as he shoves himself through Gabriel's fist, leaning in to kiss Gabriel deep and hard and wet. His groans ring through the kitchen and every one of them just makes Gabriel hotter, until finally Sam's rhythm stutters and jerks and hot white paints his shirt and Gabriel's hand. Gabriel works him through it, gentling, until Sam puts his hand over Gabriel's and holds him still.
Sam's leaned his head against the cabinet and he's breathing hard. "Gabriel. Oh Jesus fuck."
Gabriel grins again and kisses Sam's ear. "Wouldn't hit that, thanks. But this party here? Ain't over yet."
Title: What You See
Prompt: from moorishflower , Sam helping Gabriel preen his wings.
"Okay, so I was thinking…." Sam's sitting behind Gabriel on the bed, his hands buried up to the wrists in the coppery feathers of Gabriel's right wing, preening them back into some semblance of order.
"Don't hurt yourself," Gabriel says dryly, not looking up from the primaries he's combing through.
"Ha-ha. You don't really have six hundred wings, do you? Because we'll be here all year if you do."
Gabriel stops at that, and throws Sam a look over his shoulder. Then he shakes his head and laughs, really laughs.
And oh, wow, is that ever an interesting sensation, feathers shivering ticklishly across Sam's skin.
"Nooo," Gabriel chuckles. "I don't, exactly, but it makes a great story, doesn't it?"
Sam narrows his eyes, because the front of his jeans is getting a little tight and he needs a distraction. "You started that story, didn't you."
Gabriel's mirth has subsided, mostly, but his grin is still wide. "I didn't, actually, not that one. But you know how it goes: one guy sees something he doesn't understand, can't really comprehend. He tells it to another guy, who tells it to another guy, and next thing you know –"
"Six hundred wings." Sam nods. He's worked through the upper coverts and takes a moment to shake out his hands. His fingers tingle, a thousand tiny prickles of pleasure, and they're shimmering faintly, as if some of what Gabriel is has rubbed off on Sam's skin.
Sam really rather likes that thought.
"But you came to Earth a bunch of times after that – nobody else ever saw the truth?"
Gabriel chuckles again. He shifts around to face Sam, wings lifting to sweep over Sam's head and then stretching up up up and out, striping against the walls and ceiling like a vast, glowing canopy of copper-gold light. "People see what they want to see, Sam. Besides." He grins, and the glint in his eyes is pure mischief. "Why get in the way of a good story?"
Note: for cageyklio on the occasion of her 5 Acts Meme post
It's a decent shower, really. No tub, just a stall but bigger than most, a fact that Sam appreciates. Right now he's appreciating the sweet holy hell out of it, standing under water hot enough to sting his skin red and soak through to the pulled and aching muscles beneath. Only one thing would make it better…he sighs as hands settle on his hips. There's a brief press of something between his shoulder blades, then again, and again. "What're you doing?" he murmurs, smiling.
"Counting," Sam repeats.
"Yeah, you know: one-fish, two-fish, red-fish, blue-fish?" The touches continue, delicate and firm. "Cookie Monster, maybe? Remember the concept?"
Sam covers one of the hands with one of his own, twining fingers as it moves to become an arm around his waist. "Counting what?" he asks with an admirable amount of patience.
Of course. "And…why?"
Gabriel heaves a put-upon sounding sigh. "Because they taste good, of course. Why else?" His other hand is slipping front and center to finger through Sam's pubic hair, winding with precise strength around the awakening cock it finds there. "Really, Sam, and I though you were the smart one."
Sam sighs now as Gabriel molds against his back, solid and familiar. "I am the smart one, obviously. I mean, you're here."
"Might just be for the sex."
Sam chuckles, although it strains a little as Gabriel teases, pumping him slow and loose before tickling at his balls. "Nah, you could get that anywhere. Me, on the other hand…."
"Mmm, you on both hands, actually." Gabriel bites Sam's shoulder blade just hard enough to sting, sending a shiver through him.
Sam drops his head and opens his eyes. Water runs out of his hair, sluicing down his body, washing over the puts-porn-to-shame show at his groin. Gabriel's hand is tanned and strong, long fingers that look so good wrapped around Sam's cock, and the sight is more than enough to harden him the rest of the way. Sam groans happily. "M'exhausted, Gabriel, I don't even know how I'm getting it up at all."
Gabriel chuckles. "Because you're just that awesomely attracted to me. You know how to flatter a guy, don't you? Just lean back and enjoy it."
And Sam does. He leans back and lets Gabriel take his weight because he knows the archangel is rock-solid behind him. He lets Gabriel handle him, pump his cock just the way he likes it and a little more, some squeezy-twisty thing that only Gabriel knows how to do, because he knows that regardless of how the archangel teases, he'll still get Sam there. He lets his own hand settle back over Gabriel's hip, gripping hard, because he doesn't have to worry about his own strength – he couldn't hurt Gabriel if he tried.
He just relaxes and lets everything go, lets Gabriel strip it out of him, pulling it from beneath Sam's skin in rising waves of arousal, building and rising until it crests and bursts from him in long, sharp pulses that wash away with the water, leaving him weak-kneed and light-headed, muscles gone to jelly.
A snap and they're out of the shower stall, and Sam practically purrs at the feel of a much plushier towel than the ones the motel provided. Another snap and he's horizontal and in bed, and it feels so good and he's already half-asleep, but – he forces his eyes open, reaches out, snags a wrist. "Stay?" he asks, before his brain can defuzz enough to stop him.
He's not sure how to read Gabriel's expression, but he thinks maybe there's mischief and exasperation and possibly fondness there, fighting with a smile. "Dean'll have a coronary. Again."
"Yeah, but you like that."
"Too true." Gabriel slides under the sheet.
Sam promptly winds arms and a leg around him and buries his nose in dry, silky hair that smells like ozone and distant rain. Life, he thinks, is good.
Title: Someplace To Rest Your Head
Prompt from mandolin_1004 , Sam is a whole head taller than Gabriel. He thinks Gabriel would make a great chin rest.
Sam's perched on the steps of their house, enjoying the spring air and watching Dean putter under the Impala's hood when there's the distinct there, not-there whoosh that tells him an angel has arrived. The warm tingle under his skin tells him which one. "Hey, Gabriel."
Gabriel walks into Sam's field of view and tilts his head, looking eerily Cas-like for a moment. "What'cha doing?"
Sam grins broadly at him, because it's just that kind of day. The kind he wasn't sure that he or Dean would ever live to see. "Nothing. Absolutely, utterly nothing."
Gabriel blinks, and then one side of his mouth curls up. "I can get with that." He sits down on the step below Sam and makes himself comfortable between Sam's legs, arms across Sam's thighs. He's wearing only jeans and an olive-green tee-shirt, and he's warm. Sam leans forward and wraps his own arms around Gabriel's, and rests his chin on top of the archangel's head. The longish chestnut hair is soft and fragrant, like new leaves and something a little sweet. Sam inhales happily and exhales again, ruffling the strands.
"Since when am I a chin-rest?"
Gabriel's trying to sound irked, but he can't quite pull it off anymore. Or not with Sam, anyway. "Since you sat your ass down in front of me, of course."
Gabriel snorts. But his fingers wrap around Sam's left knee, the one that gives Sam trouble now after he wracked it up saving the world, and squeeze gently.
Prompt from cageyklio , S'mores
Prompt from cageyklio , S'mores
It made sense, Gabriel decided, that a guy who'd spent a good chunk of his life burning things would know how to build a good fire. Granted, most of Sam's fires were of the "destroy it before it destroys me" variety, but still.
There was no danger here, not in the cocoon of Gabriel's own space, and Sam looked sleepy-eyed and peaceful, but…. Gabriel watched Sam watch the flames, and made a decision. "Okay, we're missing something."
Sam turned his head, the firelight gilding the side of his face. Sometimes he was so beautiful, inside and out, that Gabriel could hardly bear it. "We are?"
Gabriel found his voice. "We are. Something every wilderness camp-out needs."
"Gabriel, we're in your back yard," Sam said, amused.
"Hey, it's a really big yard."
Gabriel smirked and snapped his fingers. Sam's face split with a grin that made him look about eight years old as he saw the contents of the tray that had just appeared, and something tugged hard in Gabriel's chest. Gabriel would do a lot for that smile, he had discovered. "Have at it, Sam."
"S'mores!" Sam sounded utterly gleeful. "I haven't had those since – damn, how old was I? Eight? Nine?"
"Then you're obviously waaay past due. Here." Gabriel handed him a long skewer and a marshmallow. "Toast that, but don't burn it. I hate charcoal."
"Can't toast your own marshmallows? Dude, that's so lame." Sam threaded the firm white puff of sugar onto the skewer tines and held it out to the fire.
Gabriel shrugged and started to assemble chocolate bits and graham crackers into tasty little waiting platforms. "Of course I can, but it's more fun to make you do it."
Sam snorted, but didn't take his eyes off of the marshmallow, turning it in the heat. When the white had turned a saggy, rich caramel color and was just about to brown too far, Sam retrieved it and angled the skewer toward Gabriel expectantly. Gabriel captured it deftly between two layers of chocolate and cracker and pulled it off, then held it up to Sam's mouth. "Open up."
It possibly said something about them – about the way they were, now – that Sam didn't hesitate, only opened up and took the gooey offering, his lips catching at the tips of Gabriel's fingers. Sam's face went blissful as he chewed, eyes closing, and that thing which had tugged in Gabriel's chest earlier now dropped squarely between his thighs.
Gabriel let Sam swallow before he leaned forward and took Sam's face between his hands and kissed him, tongue chasing the flavors of chocolate and marshmallow for a lot longer than the flavors actually lasted. Sam's eyes were a little hazy when Gabriel let him up for air. "Gabriel?"
This – this was joy. "Like I said, it's more fun to make you do it," Gabriel murmured, and leaned back in.