Fic: Bind Me With Silks Invisible

[library_j]

Fic:  "Bind Me With Silks Invisible"

Thanks, cageyklio!


Title:  Bind Me With Silks Invisible
Author: jessebee 
Rating: NC-17
Genre: au/ar, slash, fix-it!fic, binding/bonding!fic, wing!fic
Pairing: Gabriel/Sam
Spoilers: better say all of S5, major for 5.19. In fact, if you haven't seen 5.19, this probably won't make much sense.
Warnings: magical healing c**k. No, really.
Disclaimer: It's Kripke's sandbox, I only play and run away.
Word Count: ~3000

Summary: Your choice of porn may save somebody's life.

Note: Written for a prompt that the thoroughly awesome cageyklio gave me ages ago: Sam intends to watch Casa Erotica all the way through because he misses Gabriel, but gets an unexpected surprise when watching it binds Gabriel to him and brings him back. Big huge thank-yous to cageyklio and samjohnsson for betas (acres! *gigglesnort*). Inexpressible thanks to morganoconner for beta and kick-starting this when I'd stalled out. I didn't mean to break your brain, sweetie, honest, I didn't. Heh.

#

 

"Cutting in now," Sam says, putting his hand on Gabriel's bare shoulder.

 

Gabriel turns, looking very not surprised to see him.  But then, why would he?  "Really?  Of course, she is hot."  The hazel eyes go speculative.  "And you like blondes and you'd sizzle together.  I'd watch that.  Hells, I might sell tickets."

 

"Not her," Sam growls, and kisses him.  Because God damn it, it's Sam's fucking dream – he doesn't have to be subtle here if he doesn't want to.

 

Gabriel's still.  And then he's not, kissing Sam back with interest.  There's speculation of a different sort written across his face when he pushes Sam back.  "So, your wild side walking includes angels as well as demons, eh?  Kinky, Sam.  I approve."

 

"I'm so glad.  Shove the fuck over."  Sam pushes him on the bed and crawls after him.  The blonde has vanished somewhere and Sam doesn't know where.  How it is that watching that stupid porn dvd because he stupidly misses Gabriel has morphed into dreaming himself into the stupid porn dvd, Sam doesn't know either and doesn't care – it's his stupid, sleazy porn show dream now and he's going to have this, he's going to have what that bitch Fate or Destiny or whatever has robbed him of.

 

Gabriel's naked to the waist and Sam's only wearing jeans, so there are acres of skin for Sam to run his hands over, to grip and grab and squeeze.  And bite.  He traces Gabriel's throat with his tongue and opens his mouth over the tendon and bites down, Gabriel's pulse tripping against his tongue.  Gabriel shudders beneath him, sucks air and arches up and Sam licks his way down, biting again in the curve of Gabriel's neck and shoulder and reveling in the soft grunt that gets him.  This all feels so incredibly real.

 

"We're place out of time here, Sam," Gabriel breathes, fingers digging into Sam's shoulders.  "Do what you want, you can't hurt me."

 

"Do what I want?"  Sam laughs and it hurts, harsh in his throat, falls flat off the walls of the awful room.  "What I want is you, Gabriel.  I want you not to have died like a heroic jackass back there.  I want the chance to do this in the real world.  I want you back."

 

"Sam –"

"Would that work?  If I fuck you here in my dream, with my magical healing cock, will that make you a real angel again out there?"

 

Gabriel grabs Sam's hair and yanks his head up.  Gabriel's eyes are bright, and his face is lustful and resigned and about nine other things Sam can't define.  "Won't it be fun trying?"

 

#

 

When Sam opens his eyes it's the crappy hotel room he sees.  Dream gone.  Game over.  Except –

 

Except that he's naked and sweaty, and exhausted in the good post-sex way, and there's someone in bed with him.  Almost under him.  Sam turns his head, afterglow burning off into adrenaline because his sex partners?  Don't ever stay the night.  He's reaching beneath the pillow for the knife – and stops dead, his breath catching.

 

There's no mistaking that profile.

 

For a moment, Sam can't breathe.  He levers up on one elbow and stares.

 

Gabriel's lying on his back, naked and sex-haired.  His skin is warm and he's tucked against Sam as perfectly as the final puzzle piece.  He looks exactly like he had at the end of Sam's dream, when Sam had collapsed next to him after fucking him into the mattress in the Casa Erotica room. 

 

Gabriel.

 

Or something that looks exactly like him.

 

Still as death.

 

"Gabriel."  Sam chokes on his own whisper, his chest painfully tight. 

 

The room starts to lighten, slowly at first and then it's bright and too bright, beating against Sam's closed eyelids and under his skin –

 

Gone.  Sam carefully opens his eyes.

 

Gabriel's face shifts, brows twitching into puzzlement and eyelids twitching.  Opening, slowly.  Blinking, to open again.

 

They're Gabriel's eyes, the golden-amber color Sam's seen on no-one else.  Gabriel blinks again, face blank, staring up past Sam, at the ceiling, at possibly nothing at all.  Then his expression shifts and it's like everything – personality, memory, power, the stuff that made him Gabriel – comes pouring back in at once.  The amber gaze darts around the room and comes back to lock onto Sam's face, and then Gabriel's mouth pulls up into a crooked, stunned-looking smile.  "So," he says hoarsely.  "Magical healing cock for the win, huh?"

 

All of Sam's breath punches out in one go.  "It's you."

 

"Mostly, yeah."

 

Gabriel says something else too but Sam doesn't hear it.  Sam just puts his head down on Gabriel's bare shoulder and breathes, smelling sex and ozone and something vaguely sweet, and tries not to pass out.  "Jesus fucking Christ, it's really you."  Gabriel's hand curves over Sam's shoulder and up the back of his neck, into his hair, moving in gentle massage.  The archangel's fingers aren't quite steady.  Sam's eyes sting, but he finds he doesn't much care.  "How -?" he asks eventually.

 

"You, Sam.  I think."  Gabriel's breath is warm against Sam's ear.  Sam sucks in a deep lungful of air and raises his head.

 

"Me?  How?  Did you – was there something in, on the dvd?"

 

Gabriel smirks, although there's possibly something tremulous in it.  "And in a few other places too, but the dvd was the key, even though I had no clue if you'd watch it all, and even then if…."

 

"If what?"

 

"If you'd – care enough for it to work.  Enough to try and put me back together."

 

Sam's brows pull together.  His brain is starting to work again, past the joy.  "Put you – Gabriel, where, what the hell?"

 

"Not there, thank Dad.  I've been on Earth a long time, Sam, long enough to have – ties to some things.  An angel dying is like a little bomb going off.  Unless you're an archangel, and then it's a really big bomb."  Gabriel smirks again, but it still doesn't quite work.  "We don't go to back to Heaven, we – dissipate.  We're energy mostly, grace and starstuff, so that's probably where we go, drawn back to where we started."

 

"Probably?"  Sam feels a little queasy, honestly.

 

Gabriel shrugs, as much as he can while flat on his back.  "Nobody knows for sure except Dad, and He wasn't talking even then." 

 

"So you were – dead."

 

"Yup."

 

"Then how –"

 

"You, Sam," Gabriel repeats.  He reaches up and lays two fingertips against Sam's chest, and Sam catches his breath as something resonates beneath his skin.  "You wanted me back.  That was enough to trigger the spell, get the ball rolling.  But I didn't know if it would be enough to pull me back together."  He snorts.  "I didn't know if enough of me would hang around close enough, or long enough, to get pulled back."

 

Almost without thought, Sam covers Gabriel's hand with his own, trapping it against his skin.  "That was a hell of a long shot."

 

Gabriel shrugs again, but he's nowhere near as blasé as he's acting, Sam can – Sam can feel it.  "It was going to end there for me one way or the other.  I'd skipped ahead; I knew it was the final curtain.  What I couldn't tell was if there'd be an encore."

 

Sam's brain has gone into overdrive now, because this is too easy.  There's got to be a catch.  There's always a catch.  "What else, Gabriel?  There's something else that's got to happen here, isn't there?"

 

Gabriel smirks yet again, and it almost looks normal this time.  "Always knew you were the smart one.  Yeah, see, the cake's about half-done here.  You've still got to add the chocolate chips and shove it in the oven."

 

Sam's about to put on his "what the shit?" face, and then Gabriel's ridiculous imagery comes clear.  "This whole thing – the dvd, the dream, the, the –"

 

"Fucking," Gabriel supplies helpfully.

 

Sam glares at him and lets go of his hand.  "This is all a ritual, a spell of some sort, isn't it?  And it's not finished yet."

 

"Ding!"  Gabriel taps him once on the nose.  "Like I said, the smart one.  Beauty's fun, do not get me wrong, but brains are more interesting every time.  When I can get them both, what's not to like?"

 

And hell if that doesn't warm him right up, but Sam'll think about it later.  Much later.  "Gabriel."

 

"It's a binding ritual, Sam, like I said – to pull me back together, sew up the pieces."  Gabriel has sobered now, and he looks tired.  "But it's a two-act show, because I exist in more than one place.  What happened in your dream – which wasn't exactly a dream, by the way – was part the first.  What happens now, here – that's part the second."

 

But Sam's still stuck on the first sentence.  "Binding ritual," he says slowly.  "Binding to what?"  He's abruptly afraid that he knows the answer.

 

Gabriel's mouth quirks.  "To you."

 

Ye-ah, that's what he was afraid of.  "To – me.  Me?  Why?"

 

"Because you started it, whether you knew it at the time or not.  Someone had to watch that dvd who gave more than a rat's ass about whether I lived or died – a lot more.  Your giving a big fat damn was what made potential into reality."  Gabriel's mouth quirks again.  "You really did fuck me back together, at least on the ethereal plane."

 

And damned if Sam can't see the rest of what's coming.  "And now I need to do it here, too."

 

Gabriel nods.  His tired look is getting worse.  "It's gotta end how it starts.  You're my anchor, fixed point on the physical plane.  Without that, I'll…."

 

"You'll what?"

 

"…break up.  Break apart again.  I think.  Eventually."

 

"You think?"

 

"There's not exactly a Big-Ass Bumper Book of Resurrections to consult here, Sasquatch," Gabriel says crossly.  "I'm writing it as I go."

 

"Just great."  Sam pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and tries to think.  There's no part of him that doesn't want Gabriel back, his dream – or not-dream – had more than proven that, but – Christ, after Ruby he's allowed to be a little gun-shy about stuff like this, dammit.  Binding?  What does that even mean?  "Gabriel, what –"

 

"Sam."

 

Sam's eyes snap open just in time to see Gabriel's body – flicker.  Cold spikes against Sam's side, and Gabriel's face is strained, teeth sunk into his lower lip. 

 

"Gabriel?"

 

"Meter's – running low, Sammy, I –"

 

It's not even a decision.  Sam leans down, cups his hand against Gabriel's face and kisses him hard.

 

Gabriel makes a raw sound and opens his mouth, fingers grappling into Sam's hair, and kisses back like he's drowning and Sam's his only source of air.  Which might be too close to the truth.  It's wet and wild and deep, Gabriel's hands on Sam's body and his tongue in Sam's mouth, and Sam's hard and panting and half-way to forgetting why they're doing this by the time Gabriel pulls back long enough to whisper, "Fuck me, Sam.  Now."

 

Sam shivers; desire throbs hot under his skin and it feels familiar and yet brand-new, like some of it isn't his own.  "You're not ready, we need –"

 

"We don't, you shtupped me not an hour ago," Gabriel growls, hands clenching on Sam's hips hard enough that Sam knows there'll be marks.

 

"That was a –"

 

"That doesn't matter, Dad damn it, don't you listen?  Get in me already!"

 

"Gabriel –"

 

"Now!"

 

Sam groans and moves, catching Gabriel's legs across his arms and shoving them up.  Gabriel curls, somehow getting knees over Sam's shoulders as Sam grabs his own aching cock and lines himself up and thrusts.  There's no resistance at all, just tight-tight-tight smooth slick heat and Sam slides in until he bottoms out, hips against Gabriel's ass, all the way home.

 

"Yes."  The word punches out of Gabriel, and Sam pries open eyes he doesn't remember closing.  Gabriel's arched, head pushed back into the pillow and a look of utter relief on his face.

 

Christ, but he's gorgeous.  "Gabriel?"

 

"Yes," Gabriel groans.  "That's it, that's stopped it."  He opens his eyes and they're dark, pupils blown and the amber just a thin ring.  "You feel so fucking good, I can't tell you."

 

"No, I think you are.  Telling me," Sam pants, bracing himself.  He pulls back and shoves home again and it's enough to make him see sparks, the pleasure somehow more than it's ever been, inside him as well as around him.  "I think I'm feeling you feeling me."

 

And Gabriel laughs, bright and filthy.  "Then we're doing something right, Sammy-boy.  Move."

 

Sam does.  He can't not, because this is the most amazing thing he's ever felt.  But he makes himself talk, because there are things he's got to find out here before he loses his mind.  "Is it always – gonna be like this?"

 

Gabriel grins.  "If you're lucky."

 

"No, I mean – will we – have to be together?"

 

Gabriel shakes his head, mouth dropping open as Sam shifts, changing the angle just a little.  "Not like that," he groans out, hands webbed tight across the back of Sam's neck.  "The binding shouldn't – oh – make you do anything.  You won't have me on – your shoulder –"

 

Oh, God.  "What – what if I want you to?"

 

That's way more honest than Sam meant to be, and the way Gabriel's eyes widen, he knows it, too.  Longing runs through Sam, longing and an aching loneliness, but they're not his.

 

And they're lost as Gabriel suddenly grits his teeth, fingers clenching.  "Roll over."

 

"What?"

 

"Roll over, I gotta be on top, it's gonna – Sam –"

 

Sam doesn't ask again; he feels the need under Gabriel's skin.  He shoves his arms beneath Gabriel's back and heaves them both over.

 

Gabriel arches up in a move that somehow plants his knees astride Sam's hips and then sits down hard.  Gravity drives Sam impossibly deeper into the archangel's body and he chokes on air and ecstasy, clawing at Gabriel's thighs, just trying to hold on as Gabriel rides him.  Gabriel's body gleams in the low light as he moves, lithe and startlingly broad-shouldered and Sam can't help but imagine wings behind him, and wonder –

 

Too much.  The doubled sensations are too much, an elemental roar beneath Sam's skin and he shudders helplessly as he's smashed apart, too fast and hard enough to hurt, bone and muscle stretched wire-tight as climax slams into him like a freight train. 

 

Above him, Gabriel screams.

 

The air around them shatters into eye-wateringly brilliant light – and wings.  Impossible, enormous curves of molten copper and liquid, living gold, flashing like heat lightning, arcing up and out and through the walls, feathers and power and glory and Gabriel, he's looking at the Archangel Gabriel –

 

#

 

When Sam knows anything again, it's that he's really damn comfortable and completely exhausted.  There's a phantom ache, like soreness that's lazily heading toward him but hasn't arrived just yet.  More immediately, there's a warm weight against his chest and side, cuddled close, just the way he likes it, and a hand running across his chest, petting in a way that feels so incredibly good.  He's happy and safe and loved, God, so loved, but there's worry there too, worry and an old, old sadness…there shouldn't be sadness now, and Sam sighs and turns his head toward his bedmate, toward…his eyes snap open.  "Gabriel?!"

 

"Well, there you are.  Damn, you can sleep, can't you?  I was about to whip up a bucket of ice to dunk your toes in, just to see if that would do it."

 

Gabriel is smirking at him from close range, hair a mess and eyes bright, solid and very very much real.  Sam breathes out in relief and drag him in to wrap him up in a tight hug.  There's a squawk of protest that Sam ignores because it's not at all important.  What's important is what he feels – what Gabriel is feeling and Sam is feeling with him, inside and out.  Sam nuzzles into Gabriel's throat.  Gabriel's skin is more than human-warm now, almost hot, and there's a hum beneath like the muted rumble of the Impala on her best days. 

 

He feels like home.

 

"Stay," Sam murmurs, because he wants that, he wants it so much that it fucking scares the tar out of him.  And he wonders how much of that – how much of him – Gabriel is feeling.  "I know you don't have to, you said this binding thing won't keep you here and that's okay, that's good, but…."

 

Gabriel is so warm against him.  "You really want an angel on your shoulder?"

 

"In my bed would be better."

 

Gabriel sighs, long and elaborately put-upon, but the worry is easing and so is the sadness, a bit.  "I suppose I might, seeing as how you're now, oh, pretty much the reason I exist."

 

Sam grins until his face hurts.  "Yeah, I'm awesome like that."

 

 #