temp entry
It's not exactly Sam's birthday yet, but he's impatient for his promised surprise, and he doesn't see what a few hours difference will make. Gabriel's tendency to snap things up is pretty much instantaneous, so Sam's fairly sure that whatever waiting is to be done, is done to create tension and test Sam's patience.
The hotel is strangely discreet, and Sam almost doesn't find it when he walks past the sign a few fimes but only sees a barred doorway. When he draws closer to look for a bell, the bars slide open, revealing a stone path down a short hall, sand and small stream of water to either side. At the end of the hall, the frosted glass slides apart, and Sam's suddenly in the warmly lit lobby of the hotel, two desk receptionists giving him a moment to orient himself before glancing up with a smile.
They're both Japanese, polite and polished, and Sam feels rather like he's lumbering up to the desk, hesitant and out of place as he towers above them. The woman is closest and Sam stops abruptly in front of her, smiling awkwardly.
"Welcome," she says softly, smiling up at him. "How may I help you?"
Gabriel told him not to bring anything, so Sam shoves his hands in his pockets instead of fidgeting with backpack straps. "I should have a reservation - Sam Winchester?" If it isn't under his name, Sam only knows two of Gabriel's to try.
The receptionist nods, and the there's the soft sound of paper shifting before she looks up at him again. "I must apologise, Mr. Winchester, we weren't expecting you so soon. I'm afraid your room isn't ready yet."
Sam almost laughs - right, of course it isn't. "That's fine - should I come back?"
"You are most welcome to wait here," she indicated the lobby chairs, plush and arranged neatly a few feet away from them. "We will have your key card prepared for you in a moment, Mr. Winchester, and if you prefer, the hotel lounge and resturant are both on the third floor."
He elects to remain standing, though he shuffles over to near the chairs, examining artwork carved into the glass of the walls. The symbols are decorative, petals and feathers layered over one another in a rainfall pattern, drifting down from the vaguely reflective ceiling. After a few minutes the receptionist walks around the front of the desk to hand him his card, bowing over it slightly as she offered it with both hands.
"If you would like to retire to the third floor, we will inform you when your room is ready, Mr. Winchester." She folded her hands in front of her when Sam took the card, turning to her right slightly. "The elevator is this way. I am sorry for the delay."
"Well, you weren't expecting me," Sam murmured, flipping the card between his fingers as he went to the elevators. "Thanks."
The receptionist bowed again, smiling, "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Winchester. Please let us know if you require anything."
Sam nodded and vanished into the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief once the doors had slid shut. He had to swipe his card to pick a floor, but instead of heading to the resturant/lounge, he pressed the number for the one with his room. "Nice try, Gabriel," he muttered under his breath, watching the numbers above the door as they blinked silently by. "I almost bought it, too." The elevator door slid open without comment, and Sam moved down the hallway to the one matching his keycard number.
A man was letting himself out of the room as Sam approached, bowing apologetically, unsurprised to see him. "I could not finish," he confessed, "But it should be enough to please you, I am told. Forgive me if it is not." He bowed again and held the door open enough for Sam to move past and enter. "Please enjoy."
The lights are dimmed, barely enough for Sam to see, even when the furniture and bed are all decorated in white, ribbons of red dashed here and there. A clear vase was set on the counter close to the door, a pale flower floating on the water. A shift of movement drew Sam's attention to the bed, where the vague outine of Gabriel's shoulders and crown of his head was lit by an overhead light. He was sitting back on his knees, away from Sam.
"You forget what I told you?" Gabriel asked quietly. His face moved to press against his shoulder, offering a glimpse of his profile. "Cause you're pretty early, kiddo."
There was something tangible in the air, and Sam stepped forward into the edges of it, sucking in a breath for some reason unknown. "Like you ever care about time," he muttered.
"It's cute when you think I'm predictible," Gabriel told him, turning his face away so Sam couldn't see. "Come look at your present. Just remember Musubi-no didn't get to finish the rest of the pretty bows."
Sam moved closer to the bed, eyes adjusting to the light, and he stifled a surprised inhale as Gabriel leaned forward, exposing his back to the dim light. Crossed over his shoulders, around his torso and upper arms, robe was tyed in double lines, knotting crosses and symbols in the space of his shoulder blades and down along his spine. His forearms were drawn up as well, looped together and knotted in intricate patterns, wrists and open palms tied against his elbows, laid across the bend of his back.
When he was close enough to touch him, Sam stopped, throat working as he drank in the sight of Gabriel, bound in the shimmering ropes. "You...heard that?" His voice was hushed, rough with rising desire and a touch of surprise. This had been a thought, once, a flicker of want in a heated moment where Sam had pinned Gabriel down. It hadn't been acted on, hadn't been mentioned.
Gabriel breathed a soft noise, amused, as if none of Sam's thoughts were of particular privacy. "Had these made special, Sammy. Better enjoy it."
Sam reached out a hand, fingers running light along Gabriel's spine and the collection of knotted ropes. To his surprise, Gabriel shivered. "You... Can you break these?"
Fingers flexing against his elbows, Gabriel tipped forward even further, a blatant offering to Sam. "They bind me for a few hours, or until they're cut."
"But not completely," Sam clarified, and the archangel grunted in agreement. "Cause I didn't let you finish."
"Spot on," Gabriel said, tossing a look over his shoulder. "So, you just gonna stare at me all night? Cause you can do that when I'm not tied up."
Sam worked his fingers around the knots of the cross most prominent between Gabriel's shoulders and hauled him up off the bed. Smoothing the hair away from Gabriel's nape so Sam could press a kiss there, he muttered, "Considering the 'pretty bows', I get to do whatever I want." Sam knew better than to take Gabriel's head dropping forward as a sign of acquiesance, and he then felt the breath of laughter that shook through the archangel. "None of that. Turn around."
The hotel is strangely discreet, and Sam almost doesn't find it when he walks past the sign a few fimes but only sees a barred doorway. When he draws closer to look for a bell, the bars slide open, revealing a stone path down a short hall, sand and small stream of water to either side. At the end of the hall, the frosted glass slides apart, and Sam's suddenly in the warmly lit lobby of the hotel, two desk receptionists giving him a moment to orient himself before glancing up with a smile.
They're both Japanese, polite and polished, and Sam feels rather like he's lumbering up to the desk, hesitant and out of place as he towers above them. The woman is closest and Sam stops abruptly in front of her, smiling awkwardly.
"Welcome," she says softly, smiling up at him. "How may I help you?"
Gabriel told him not to bring anything, so Sam shoves his hands in his pockets instead of fidgeting with backpack straps. "I should have a reservation - Sam Winchester?" If it isn't under his name, Sam only knows two of Gabriel's to try.
The receptionist nods, and the there's the soft sound of paper shifting before she looks up at him again. "I must apologise, Mr. Winchester, we weren't expecting you so soon. I'm afraid your room isn't ready yet."
Sam almost laughs - right, of course it isn't. "That's fine - should I come back?"
"You are most welcome to wait here," she indicated the lobby chairs, plush and arranged neatly a few feet away from them. "We will have your key card prepared for you in a moment, Mr. Winchester, and if you prefer, the hotel lounge and resturant are both on the third floor."
He elects to remain standing, though he shuffles over to near the chairs, examining artwork carved into the glass of the walls. The symbols are decorative, petals and feathers layered over one another in a rainfall pattern, drifting down from the vaguely reflective ceiling. After a few minutes the receptionist walks around the front of the desk to hand him his card, bowing over it slightly as she offered it with both hands.
"If you would like to retire to the third floor, we will inform you when your room is ready, Mr. Winchester." She folded her hands in front of her when Sam took the card, turning to her right slightly. "The elevator is this way. I am sorry for the delay."
"Well, you weren't expecting me," Sam murmured, flipping the card between his fingers as he went to the elevators. "Thanks."
The receptionist bowed again, smiling, "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Winchester. Please let us know if you require anything."
Sam nodded and vanished into the elevator, breathing a sigh of relief once the doors had slid shut. He had to swipe his card to pick a floor, but instead of heading to the resturant/lounge, he pressed the number for the one with his room. "Nice try, Gabriel," he muttered under his breath, watching the numbers above the door as they blinked silently by. "I almost bought it, too." The elevator door slid open without comment, and Sam moved down the hallway to the one matching his keycard number.
A man was letting himself out of the room as Sam approached, bowing apologetically, unsurprised to see him. "I could not finish," he confessed, "But it should be enough to please you, I am told. Forgive me if it is not." He bowed again and held the door open enough for Sam to move past and enter. "Please enjoy."
The lights are dimmed, barely enough for Sam to see, even when the furniture and bed are all decorated in white, ribbons of red dashed here and there. A clear vase was set on the counter close to the door, a pale flower floating on the water. A shift of movement drew Sam's attention to the bed, where the vague outine of Gabriel's shoulders and crown of his head was lit by an overhead light. He was sitting back on his knees, away from Sam.
"You forget what I told you?" Gabriel asked quietly. His face moved to press against his shoulder, offering a glimpse of his profile. "Cause you're pretty early, kiddo."
There was something tangible in the air, and Sam stepped forward into the edges of it, sucking in a breath for some reason unknown. "Like you ever care about time," he muttered.
"It's cute when you think I'm predictible," Gabriel told him, turning his face away so Sam couldn't see. "Come look at your present. Just remember Musubi-no didn't get to finish the rest of the pretty bows."
Sam moved closer to the bed, eyes adjusting to the light, and he stifled a surprised inhale as Gabriel leaned forward, exposing his back to the dim light. Crossed over his shoulders, around his torso and upper arms, robe was tyed in double lines, knotting crosses and symbols in the space of his shoulder blades and down along his spine. His forearms were drawn up as well, looped together and knotted in intricate patterns, wrists and open palms tied against his elbows, laid across the bend of his back.
When he was close enough to touch him, Sam stopped, throat working as he drank in the sight of Gabriel, bound in the shimmering ropes. "You...heard that?" His voice was hushed, rough with rising desire and a touch of surprise. This had been a thought, once, a flicker of want in a heated moment where Sam had pinned Gabriel down. It hadn't been acted on, hadn't been mentioned.
Gabriel breathed a soft noise, amused, as if none of Sam's thoughts were of particular privacy. "Had these made special, Sammy. Better enjoy it."
Sam reached out a hand, fingers running light along Gabriel's spine and the collection of knotted ropes. To his surprise, Gabriel shivered. "You... Can you break these?"
Fingers flexing against his elbows, Gabriel tipped forward even further, a blatant offering to Sam. "They bind me for a few hours, or until they're cut."
"But not completely," Sam clarified, and the archangel grunted in agreement. "Cause I didn't let you finish."
"Spot on," Gabriel said, tossing a look over his shoulder. "So, you just gonna stare at me all night? Cause you can do that when I'm not tied up."
Sam worked his fingers around the knots of the cross most prominent between Gabriel's shoulders and hauled him up off the bed. Smoothing the hair away from Gabriel's nape so Sam could press a kiss there, he muttered, "Considering the 'pretty bows', I get to do whatever I want." Sam knew better than to take Gabriel's head dropping forward as a sign of acquiesance, and he then felt the breath of laughter that shook through the archangel. "None of that. Turn around."