When Gabe has got Dean's lips kissed-out and swollen to his satisfaction, he nips his way down Dean's throat, and Dean has his head thrown back against the wall, moaning, before he remembers that he's only supposed to be pretending to enjoy this. There's a low chuckle from Gabriel, damn his archangel hearing, and Dean rights his head and opens his eyes - this is going too damn far - and then realizes that his vision has adjusted to the near-darkness. He can see what's going on around him, and holy fuck.
All around the room are men, in couples and threesomes, piles even, kissing and stroking and jerking and sucking each other. Dean's mouth falls open in shock. He's heard rumours about what goes on in backrooms, sure, but having heard about it doesn't cushion him from the shock of seeing, hearing and smelling it, all around him. Dean swallows, hard, can't help the shudder of heat that goes through him.
He's too busy staring at everybody else to pay proper attention to what Gabriel is doing, so when Gabriel's sneaky mouth fastens on his suddenly-bared nipple, Dean squawks and bucks against him before he can stop himself. Gabe adds teeth, and that feels even better, and wait, no, nonoNO, this isn't... Dean isn't... panic races around his head and he grabs Gabe by the shoulders and starts pushing against him, trying to get him off.
"Dean." Gabriel pushes Dean's hands up and off him, pins them to the wall just above his head, as easily as if he were a child, and holds them there with the tiniest whisper of power. "Chill out, kiddo. This is just between you and me, okay?"
Dean gasps, grounded, his mind clawing back out of the panic, knees shaking. He's pretty sure Gabriel can see straight into him, his most carefully hidden secrets, the fantasies about men and being held down, and even as he burns with shame, Dean can feel his cock throbbing with need. He writhes against the invisible restraints, writhing against Gabe in the process.
Gabriel slides his hands back down Dean's body, stroking and tweaking along the way. "I've got you, Winchester," he says, unusually serious, "Let go. I won't let you fall," and it's insane given their history, but Dean actually believes him.
He relaxes his hold on reality, gives in to the darkness and his desire and Gabe's hands, mouth and hips moving against him. Gabe's as hard as he is, rubbing their cocks together, and it feels so good. He groans as Gabe unfastens his jeans, works them down a few inches and draws out his thick cock, exposing him to the whole room. Dean's a little shocked with himself for allowing this, and even more shocked at the flare of arousal that shoots through him at the thought of a roomful of strangers seeing this - seeing Dean Winchester, ladies' man extraordinaire, being taken apart in the backroom of a gay bar by an angel in a male vessel. He's shaking like a leaf with it.
Gabriel hits his knees, arms around Dean's thighs and hands sliding in along the wall to knead Dean's firm butt. He nuzzles at Dean's cock with his cheek, looking up the hunter with a filthy grin that promises good things. Dean makes an embarrassing noise he will deny forever, eyes blown wide and begging for it. He watches, breathless, as Gabe turns slowly until his lips are touching Dean's shaft, mouthing at it, up and down, driving Dean crazy. He mouths over the head, too, staring up at Dean the whole time, raises one eyebrow mockingly as Dean's expression gets more and more desperate. Dean whines and pushes his hips forward, nudges this cock against Gabriel's mouth and finally, finally in past the lips. Gabriel gives up teasing, sinks down and down, further than anyone else ever has, until he's nosing at Dean's curls, deep-throating him like it's no big thing. Dean damn near comes on the spot, writhes against the wall and tries not to pump into Gabriel's mouth.
As Gabriel draws off, Dean's rolling eyes catch on a couple across the room, a hot young guy about Dean's age with his back against a well-built older man, who are stroking and grinding against each other, blatantly staring at Dean as Gabriel sucks him. Their eyes burn with lust, getting off on the sight of Dean's body and the show he's been inadvertently putting on for them. Dean doesn't know whether to die of shame, or glory in it. Then Gabriel's mouth slams back down on him, and Dean cries out, gives himself over to the angel and the hot wanting eyes of the strangers across the room, writhes and bucks and comes like he's dying, hard down Gabriel's throat.
He shudders and shakes for long minutes afterwards, Gabriel the only thing holding him up. It takes him a while to get his head back together, and he carefully ignores the litany of reassurance and praise being murmered into his ear, the soft kisses. He doesn't want to think about what it means, how it feels, what Gabriel knows. He puts himself back together piece by piece, then pushes up off the wall and past Gabriel, leads the way into and through the bar.
"Looks like the incubus stayed at home tonight, huh?" he says as they head out, voice gravelly and cracked.
Gabriel carefully fails to mention that every one of the attacks has taken place on a Saturday night, and tonight is Friday.
SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT!! First time I've ever written Gabe, so I'm flattered you think I got his voice right! (On the other hand, don't think I've written anything yet that didn't have Dean or Jensen in it...!)
I'm an afficionado of the unexpected last line that makes you re-evaluate the whole fic in hindsight, I like that little twist in the tale!
All around the room are men, in couples and threesomes, piles even, kissing and stroking and jerking and sucking each other. Dean's mouth falls open in shock. He's heard rumours about what goes on in backrooms, sure, but having heard about it doesn't cushion him from the shock of seeing, hearing and smelling it, all around him. Dean swallows, hard, can't help the shudder of heat that goes through him.
He's too busy staring at everybody else to pay proper attention to what Gabriel is doing, so when Gabriel's sneaky mouth fastens on his suddenly-bared nipple, Dean squawks and bucks against him before he can stop himself. Gabe adds teeth, and that feels even better, and wait, no, nonoNO, this isn't... Dean isn't... panic races around his head and he grabs Gabe by the shoulders and starts pushing against him, trying to get him off.
"Dean." Gabriel pushes Dean's hands up and off him, pins them to the wall just above his head, as easily as if he were a child, and holds them there with the tiniest whisper of power. "Chill out, kiddo. This is just between you and me, okay?"
Dean gasps, grounded, his mind clawing back out of the panic, knees shaking. He's pretty sure Gabriel can see straight into him, his most carefully hidden secrets, the fantasies about men and being held down, and even as he burns with shame, Dean can feel his cock throbbing with need. He writhes against the invisible restraints, writhing against Gabe in the process.
Gabriel slides his hands back down Dean's body, stroking and tweaking along the way. "I've got you, Winchester," he says, unusually serious, "Let go. I won't let you fall," and it's insane given their history, but Dean actually believes him.
He relaxes his hold on reality, gives in to the darkness and his desire and Gabe's hands, mouth and hips moving against him. Gabe's as hard as he is, rubbing their cocks together, and it feels so good. He groans as Gabe unfastens his jeans, works them down a few inches and draws out his thick cock, exposing him to the whole room. Dean's a little shocked with himself for allowing this, and even more shocked at the flare of arousal that shoots through him at the thought of a roomful of strangers seeing this - seeing Dean Winchester, ladies' man extraordinaire, being taken apart in the backroom of a gay bar by an angel in a male vessel. He's shaking like a leaf with it.
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As Gabriel draws off, Dean's rolling eyes catch on a couple across the room, a hot young guy about Dean's age with his back against a well-built older man, who are stroking and grinding against each other, blatantly staring at Dean as Gabriel sucks him. Their eyes burn with lust, getting off on the sight of Dean's body and the show he's been inadvertently putting on for them. Dean doesn't know whether to die of shame, or glory in it. Then Gabriel's mouth slams back down on him, and Dean cries out, gives himself over to the angel and the hot wanting eyes of the strangers across the room, writhes and bucks and comes like he's dying, hard down Gabriel's throat.
He shudders and shakes for long minutes afterwards, Gabriel the only thing holding him up. It takes him a while to get his head back together, and he carefully ignores the litany of reassurance and praise being murmered into his ear, the soft kisses. He doesn't want to think about what it means, how it feels, what Gabriel knows. He puts himself back together piece by piece, then pushes up off the wall and past Gabriel, leads the way into and through the bar.
"Looks like the incubus stayed at home tonight, huh?" he says as they head out, voice gravelly and cracked.
Gabriel carefully fails to mention that every one of the attacks has taken place on a Saturday night, and tonight is Friday.
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Dude, this was so damn hot! Very well done, I loved your characterizations of Dean and Gabriel, I could hear their voices in my head. Bravo, bravo!
(And OMG, that last line! SO MUCH LOVE, SIMPLY PERFECT!)
Thank you!
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I'm an afficionado of the unexpected last line that makes you re-evaluate the whole fic in hindsight, I like that little twist in the tale!
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