Fic: Blast of the Horn (SPN, Gabriel/Sam, PG)
Title: Blast of the Horn
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Gabriel / Sam Winchester
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Gabriel saves Sam's life again - he's keeping count - and Sam finds out that Gabriel has claimed him. Naturally, there is unexpected body art and satisfaction for both of them.
Author Note: Revised version of a Five Acts Meme fic for morganoconner who wanted claiming. And thanks to cageyklio who encouraged and betaed.
Sam strained against his bindings. This was so far from good. For a start, there was blood painted on his chest. His blood. His forearm wound was still oozing. Dean was probably surrounded by the demonic minions outside, Castiel trying to stop him from doing something suicidally stupid.
The demons were talking about claiming him. A kind of spell that would bind him to Lucifer. Bought and paid for. And apparently they had foolproof ideas for getting him to say “yes,” Something to do with wiping his memory.
Definitely not good.
The leader, who used to be a mechanic maybe, reminding Sam painfully of Bobby in some lights, approached. Swaggered, mouth leering, and bloodied hands like claws. Sam pulled against the ropes again, fruitlessly. This couldn't be happening.
“You have no idea how well I'll be rewarded,” the demon hissed.
He touched Sam's shoulder, and something suddenly sparked at his fingertips. The demon yelped in pain. Sam cracked open an eye. What the hell....?
Then there was the strong smell of candy and Gabriel popped into existence, grinning. His eyes widened comically at the scene. Sam sagged with relief.
“You started the party without me,” he reclined against the wall, totally relaxed. But Sam could see the compressed fury in his shoulders, in his eyes under the laughter. He'd gotten good at reading Gabriel. “It's a real shame, because I could have told you that that spell of yours? Is not going to take.”
The leader glared, one finger defiantly smearing a sigil onto Sam's arm. There was another spark and yelp. Sam winced. Then there was a hot pain to the left side of his ribs, stretching around to his back. He couldn't help crying out. It took him a while to catch his breath.
“What did I tell you?” Gabriel sighed like he was disappointed. “Recon, guys, come on. If you'd asked the right questions, the right people, you'd have been told, he's not for sale.”
He snapped his fingers suddenly, as the demons near him closed in. Almost every one of them disappeared, shrieking in agony. Sam clamped his eyes shut against the noise. Only the leader was left, growling and furious and about to rush the archangel. Gabriel squeezed a fistful of air, the motion crushing the demon's windpipe slowly and mercilessly. Then, with a sudden snap of the neck, the body dropped and the demon vacated it. Gabriel dissipated the black putrid smoke before it could escape.
There was silence. Sam looked up, forearm and ribs still throbbing. Gabriel's expression was viciously triumphant. Then he breathed out and all trace of malevolent pagan demigod and righteous archangel was gone. He turned his attention to Sam.
“So does that make it four times since the start of the year I've had to rescue you?” he smirked. “Who's counting? Oh wait, I am.”
Sam managed a pained grimace. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the ropes fell away. Sam could only slump to the ground. His chest was sticky with blood. Gabriel crouched down beside him, his eyes kind even if his mouth was twitching with a grin. He gently brushed his hands across Sam's skin. The blood disappeared, his forearm wound knitted slowly back together. Some of the bone-deep exhaustion seemed to lift too.
The pain at his ribs, however, remained. Sam drug in deep breaths. What was that? The spell?
“I meant what I said, Sammy,” Gabriel carefully pushed Sam's hair out of his eyes. “You're off the market, property of one. That would be me.”
Gabriel spread his hand. The pain cooled and Sam closed his eyes relieved. They shot open when Gabriel laved his tongue over part of the formally inflamed skin.
“Mmmm, Gabriel.....ah.......what did you do?”
“Saved your life, and I expect a considerable thank-you,” Gabriel murmured.
“What did you do?”
Gabriel sighed, and stopped his ministrations - part of Sam was deeply disappointed at this, the other part snapped at him to focus. The archangel guided Sam's head to look down. Sam's jaw dropped. There, burned into his skin, wrapping around from his ribs to his back, was the image of a simple old-fashioned horn, the kind seen in church stained glass or paintings, always in the hands of angels. A small handful of Enochian symbols formed a pattern around it. Sam felt like he'd been branded.
“Gabriel!”
“Did I mention the part where I saved your life?” Gabriel replied pointedly. “Relax, Sammy. You should be honoured. That's a unique piece.”
“It's permanent?”
“Yeah, don't say I never give you anything,” Gabriel's mouth twisted into an ironic smirk. “No one'll be able to wear you now.”
Sam stared at the symbol and hesitantly reached out a finger to trace it. It was slightly warm and damp from Gabriel's attentions, and amazingly tender. A thrill of something buzzed through him. This meant safety, Lucifer couldn't get in now ever. It also, apparently, meant Gabriel's ownership.
Sam was more okay with that than he was willing to voice. It wouldn't exactly be a punishment, stopping the apocalypse by being bonded to the archangel he trusted and was stupidly crazy about. Some warning about the brand would have been good though. Sam glared.
“This is your symbol, right? I've seen it in books.”
“You've been researching me,” Gabriel sounded delighted. “Awww, Sammy. Did you write my name all over your journal too?”
“What do these sigils mean?”
Gabriel's expression simmered into intensity. “It means you're mine, Sammy. It means no one can have you but me, ever.”
He placed his hand over the symbol and Sam barely stifled a gasp at the sensations that rushed through him. Gabriel stroked the skin, his eyes lit up with something possessive and fierce, and it made Sam swallow, just a bit. Yeah, definitely not a punishment.
Of course Gabriel declared his feelings with a game-changing gesture. Dean was going to be pissed. Sam really didn’t care.
“So any questions, problems?” Gabriel asked with a smirk like he knew the answer already.
Sam shook his head shakily. He was warm, despite his lack of shirt, and he felt….surrounded, surprisingly strong, like no one could get to him for the first time ever. There was a pleasant thrum under his skin, emanating from the brand. Sam could feel it spike at Gabriel’s touch.
Gabriel grinned and, hand still stroking his mark, finally pulled Sam in for a bruising claiming kiss.
-the end
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Gabriel / Sam Winchester
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Gabriel saves Sam's life again - he's keeping count - and Sam finds out that Gabriel has claimed him. Naturally, there is unexpected body art and satisfaction for both of them.
Author Note: Revised version of a Five Acts Meme fic for morganoconner who wanted claiming. And thanks to cageyklio who encouraged and betaed.
Sam strained against his bindings. This was so far from good. For a start, there was blood painted on his chest. His blood. His forearm wound was still oozing. Dean was probably surrounded by the demonic minions outside, Castiel trying to stop him from doing something suicidally stupid.
The demons were talking about claiming him. A kind of spell that would bind him to Lucifer. Bought and paid for. And apparently they had foolproof ideas for getting him to say “yes,” Something to do with wiping his memory.
Definitely not good.
The leader, who used to be a mechanic maybe, reminding Sam painfully of Bobby in some lights, approached. Swaggered, mouth leering, and bloodied hands like claws. Sam pulled against the ropes again, fruitlessly. This couldn't be happening.
“You have no idea how well I'll be rewarded,” the demon hissed.
He touched Sam's shoulder, and something suddenly sparked at his fingertips. The demon yelped in pain. Sam cracked open an eye. What the hell....?
Then there was the strong smell of candy and Gabriel popped into existence, grinning. His eyes widened comically at the scene. Sam sagged with relief.
“You started the party without me,” he reclined against the wall, totally relaxed. But Sam could see the compressed fury in his shoulders, in his eyes under the laughter. He'd gotten good at reading Gabriel. “It's a real shame, because I could have told you that that spell of yours? Is not going to take.”
The leader glared, one finger defiantly smearing a sigil onto Sam's arm. There was another spark and yelp. Sam winced. Then there was a hot pain to the left side of his ribs, stretching around to his back. He couldn't help crying out. It took him a while to catch his breath.
“What did I tell you?” Gabriel sighed like he was disappointed. “Recon, guys, come on. If you'd asked the right questions, the right people, you'd have been told, he's not for sale.”
He snapped his fingers suddenly, as the demons near him closed in. Almost every one of them disappeared, shrieking in agony. Sam clamped his eyes shut against the noise. Only the leader was left, growling and furious and about to rush the archangel. Gabriel squeezed a fistful of air, the motion crushing the demon's windpipe slowly and mercilessly. Then, with a sudden snap of the neck, the body dropped and the demon vacated it. Gabriel dissipated the black putrid smoke before it could escape.
There was silence. Sam looked up, forearm and ribs still throbbing. Gabriel's expression was viciously triumphant. Then he breathed out and all trace of malevolent pagan demigod and righteous archangel was gone. He turned his attention to Sam.
“So does that make it four times since the start of the year I've had to rescue you?” he smirked. “Who's counting? Oh wait, I am.”
Sam managed a pained grimace. Gabriel snapped his fingers and the ropes fell away. Sam could only slump to the ground. His chest was sticky with blood. Gabriel crouched down beside him, his eyes kind even if his mouth was twitching with a grin. He gently brushed his hands across Sam's skin. The blood disappeared, his forearm wound knitted slowly back together. Some of the bone-deep exhaustion seemed to lift too.
The pain at his ribs, however, remained. Sam drug in deep breaths. What was that? The spell?
“I meant what I said, Sammy,” Gabriel carefully pushed Sam's hair out of his eyes. “You're off the market, property of one. That would be me.”
Gabriel spread his hand. The pain cooled and Sam closed his eyes relieved. They shot open when Gabriel laved his tongue over part of the formally inflamed skin.
“Mmmm, Gabriel.....ah.......what did you do?”
“Saved your life, and I expect a considerable thank-you,” Gabriel murmured.
“What did you do?”
Gabriel sighed, and stopped his ministrations - part of Sam was deeply disappointed at this, the other part snapped at him to focus. The archangel guided Sam's head to look down. Sam's jaw dropped. There, burned into his skin, wrapping around from his ribs to his back, was the image of a simple old-fashioned horn, the kind seen in church stained glass or paintings, always in the hands of angels. A small handful of Enochian symbols formed a pattern around it. Sam felt like he'd been branded.
“Gabriel!”
“Did I mention the part where I saved your life?” Gabriel replied pointedly. “Relax, Sammy. You should be honoured. That's a unique piece.”
“It's permanent?”
“Yeah, don't say I never give you anything,” Gabriel's mouth twisted into an ironic smirk. “No one'll be able to wear you now.”
Sam stared at the symbol and hesitantly reached out a finger to trace it. It was slightly warm and damp from Gabriel's attentions, and amazingly tender. A thrill of something buzzed through him. This meant safety, Lucifer couldn't get in now ever. It also, apparently, meant Gabriel's ownership.
Sam was more okay with that than he was willing to voice. It wouldn't exactly be a punishment, stopping the apocalypse by being bonded to the archangel he trusted and was stupidly crazy about. Some warning about the brand would have been good though. Sam glared.
“This is your symbol, right? I've seen it in books.”
“You've been researching me,” Gabriel sounded delighted. “Awww, Sammy. Did you write my name all over your journal too?”
“What do these sigils mean?”
Gabriel's expression simmered into intensity. “It means you're mine, Sammy. It means no one can have you but me, ever.”
He placed his hand over the symbol and Sam barely stifled a gasp at the sensations that rushed through him. Gabriel stroked the skin, his eyes lit up with something possessive and fierce, and it made Sam swallow, just a bit. Yeah, definitely not a punishment.
Of course Gabriel declared his feelings with a game-changing gesture. Dean was going to be pissed. Sam really didn’t care.
“So any questions, problems?” Gabriel asked with a smirk like he knew the answer already.
Sam shook his head shakily. He was warm, despite his lack of shirt, and he felt….surrounded, surprisingly strong, like no one could get to him for the first time ever. There was a pleasant thrum under his skin, emanating from the brand. Sam could feel it spike at Gabriel’s touch.
Gabriel grinned and, hand still stroking his mark, finally pulled Sam in for a bruising claiming kiss.
-the end