The Best Thing About College Is... Part II
Warnings and word count and stuff at masterpost.
The next time they’re home alone together, Sam’s trying to cram for a midterm. He’s actually been keeping up with the class, since he’s, as Dean would say, a big fucking nerd, but he’s still a little terrified for his first real college midterm. He’s lying on his bed trying to read through his notes one more time, absentmindedly kicking the wall, when he hears a “tssk tssk” and looks up to find Gabriel leaning in his doorway.
“I can smell the anxiety from here,” Gabriel says. “Midterms?”
Sam nods, wound too tight to speak.
“You know what takes the edge off?” Gabriel says, waggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t smoke weed,” Sam says quickly, and Gabriel laughs.
“Not that, wouldn’t wanna corrupt an innocent little freshman. Nah, how ‘bout a massage? I’m certified, you know,” Gabriel adds with a grin. Sam considers it..
“I should really keep studying....” he starts, even though it isn’t true. He’s learned as much as he’s going to at this point.
“C’mon, I’ll be gentle, I promise,” Gabriel says with a wink that sends a rush of heat to Sam’s face.
“Okay,” Sam relents, piling his notebooks off the bed. “Do you wanna do it here?”
“Yeah, this is good,” Gabriel says, nodding. “Let me get the oil. Take off your shirt and lie face down.”
Sam does as he’s told, ignoring the way the order sends nervous energy coursing through him. He lies on his bed and waits until he feels the dip of the mattress, then Gabriel straddling his hips. Gabriel’s hands are warm and slick as they slide slowly up his back, pressure light at first, then firm as he works out the knots in Sam’s muscles. Sam tries to hold in the groans and grunts of pleasure, but when Gabriel finds a particularly sore spot where Sam’s neck meets his shoulders, he can’t hold back. He expects Gabriel to laugh, but Gabriel just leans a little closer, presses a little harder, and murmurs just above him.
“ ‘S good, Sam?” Gabriel’s voice sounds a little lower than usual, and the words are accompanied by a hard, kneading thumb right where Sam’s sore. Sam “mmhmm”s in response and presses up into the touch. He’s starting to breathe hard, struggling to hold still under Gabriel’s strong hands, and he can feel himself growing hard. Gabriel moves lower down his back, still asking if it feels good, stopping to rub at the knots of tension he finds. When he reaches the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants, he slips the tips of his thumbs just past it before leaning to whisper into Sam’s ear.
“Okay if I go a little lower?”
Sam groans and arches up, nodding, and Gabriel exhales hard before moving his hands down, kneading at Sam’s ass. He only pulls Sam’s pants halfway down the swell of his ass, but it’s enough for the fabric to tug a little at Sam’s erection, sensation shooting up into his belly. Sam’s relaxed state is quickly evolving into a tense, aroused one, and he’s starting to think he needs to end this massage before it turns into a surprise happy ending. He’s fighting not to rut into the sheets under him and Gabriel keeps telling him to relax. Finally Gabriel sits back a little, resting on the back of Sam’s thighs.
“You okay? You just got really tense, you wanna stop?”
Sam nods without looking up, mortified. Gabriel gets up slowly, but doesn’t leave the room. “Is it something I did? Was it because I... I’m sorry if I went too far...” Gabriel trails off and Sam stays perfectly still, too embarrassed to face him. Eventually, Gabriel walks out of Sam’s room, quietly closing the door behind him.
The instant he’s gone, Sam shoves his hand down between his hips and the bed and wraps his fingers around his cock. He jerks himself fast and a little too rough, mad at himself for making such a good moment awkward. He pants at the thought of Gabriel touching him, how Gabriel’s slick, firm hands would feel on his cock. He comes with a whimper into his pillow, and doesn’t get up for a while after, letting the come grow tacky in his sweatpants.
***
Ever since Halloween, Dean’s been dropping free coffees on Cas’s table at the café anytime Cas seems especially overworked. Sometimes he’s reading out of a textbook, eyes not lifting from the page as he takes sip after sip of coffee, occasionally stopping to make a note in the margins. Sometimes he’s grading, a weary, bored look on his face as he goes through paper after paper. Dean watches him more than he’d like to admit, and as the weeks go by, he grows more and more concerned.
Cas is looking increasingly exhausted, his clothes rumpled, his hair perpetually disheveled. Sometimes Dean thinks about telling Gabriel to look out for his brother, get him to lighten up his workload, but then the thought of speaking to Gabriel makes Dean want to strangle the guy, so it remains nothing but a thought.
In early November, Dean starts dropping occasional muffins and cookies on Cas’s table as well, noticing how rarely the man seems to eat. Castiel always responds the same way, with a surprised, “Thank you,” and curious stare. Dean never says anything at all, though he frequently imagines what it would be like if they talked. Cas needs someone to help him lighten up, and Dean knows he could do that. Except he hates the guy. So there’s that.
It’s a Friday night, and it’s ten minutes past closing. Cas hasn’t looked up in hours and Dean can’t bring himself to kick him out. He usually calls out “Closing in five minutes,” as if the café were full, even when there’s only Castiel in his corner. Tonight, Dean just closes the doors, flips the sign, and puts up the chairs, without disturbing Cas. Castiel is still steadily sipping his coffee as he reads, and Dean realizes that in the six hours Cas has been here today, he hasn’t eaten. Maybe it’s the protective older brother part of Dean, or maybe it’s something else, but he finds himself pulling out some bread, looking around in the back to make Cas a sandwich. He brings it over to the table, intending to just drop it next to Cas’s books like he usually does. Cas doesn’t look up from his book, though, so completely transfixed, his blue eyes wide and red-rimmed and his lower lip caught between his teeth in a way that makes Dean want to wrap him in a blanket and...
Instead, Dean yanks the book out of Cas’s grasp and snaps it shut, putting it on the pile and shoving the sandwich under Cas’s nose.
“Eat.” He says, and Cas just blinks up at him like he’s not sure where he is. “Jesus, how long have you been studying? Food, Cas, you need food. Eat the sandwich.”
Cas’s eyes drop to the sandwich and he stares at it for a minute before lifting it to his lips.
“Mfffankff” Cas mumbles through the food, and Dean grins at him before getting up. Cas leaves while he’s cleaning everything up, looking dazed and a little lost, and Dean considers insisting on walking him home before deciding that might be taking it a little far. Cas is a big boy, he reminds himself, and one that Dean is supposed to hate.
***
Recently, Sam usually finds himself studying alone at the kitchen table late at night. It’s not that he hates parties, exactly, it’s just that interacting with that many strangers always seems like too much work. His friend Jess is constantly teasing him about being a hermit, but Sam’s used to that: he’s been getting it from Dean for years. Dean often goes straight from work to the bars, and if Cas comes home, it’s only to lock himself in his room immediately.
So tonight finds Sam half-working on a paper, half watching TV, when he hears the front door open. He heard Cas come home half an hour ago, so he assumes this must be Dean. Gabriel’s hardly been home since the massage.
“Hey Sam,” Gabriel says casually, ruffling Sam’s hair as he walks in and drops onto the couch, kicking off his shoes. Sam turns to glare at him as he tries to fix his hair, but Gabriel just laughs. “You wanna watch a movie?”
Sam nods gratefully, standing up and stretching. His paper’s not going to get written tonight, and a distraction would be nice, even if he is still awkward around Gabriel. He turns off the kitchen light and goes to sit beside him on the couch, trying not to think about the last time they were this close. Gabriel leans in to pull the blanket over both of them and starts to wrap his arm around Sam’s shoulders, then stops.
“Hey, this is okay, right?” he asks hesitantly. Sam nods and lets himself be gently manhandled into lying against Gabriel, his heart pounding, his breath already coming fast. Gabriel’s shirt is riding up a little and Sam lets his hand land on Gabriel’s hip so his thumb can stroke along the skin there.
The movie starts, and ten minutes in Sam’s lost track of what they’re watching because Gabriel’s hand is rubbing circles on his back, moving lower and lower, and Sam has somehow found the nerve to push his hand under Gabriel’s shirt to lie against the soft skin below his ribs. Gabriel’s eyes are fixed on the screen. Sam lets his fingers stroke gentle patterns along Gabriel’s skin, up to his ribs then down to the skin just above the waistband of his pants, lingering in the dip of his hips.
Gabriel’s hand slips lower to tug up the hem of Sam’s tee shirt and lie flat against the small of Sam’s back, fingertips sliding under the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants. Every spot where Gabriel’s skin is touching his feels like it’s crackling with electricity, and Sam wants more than light grazes, wants it so bad it almost hurts. He doesn’t dare move, except to keep tracing patterns on Gabriel’s skin. Gabriel’s hand does the same, fingertips light against his skin as they move around to the side of his thigh. Sam’s not wearing boxers, and he’s suddenly very aware that if Gabriel keeps going he’s going to reach Sam’s cock, and Sam’s been hard almost since he got on the couch. Gabriel’s hands still, curling around Sam’s hip, fingertips just shy of where Sam desperately wants them. Sam can’t find a way to ask, so lies perfectly still, achingly hard and tries to will Gabriel to touch him.
Gabriel’s hand stays where it is, and eventually Sam relaxes, his heart rate dropping back to something resembling normal as he shifts more comfortably against Gabriel. He falls asleep around halfway through the movie, and wakes up to Gabriel inching his way out from under him, trying to loosen Sam’s vice-like grip on his shirt. Sam mumbles something unintelligible and Gabriel chuckles quietly, pulling Sam up.
“C’mon, time for bed.” Sam lets Gabriel lead him to his bed and tries to pull him into it without thinking. Gabriel laughs. “Hey, c’mon, I have a bed just next door. Sleep tight, Sam.” Sam’s already asleep by the time Gabriel closes the door, warmed by the affection in Gabriel’s tone.
***
Movie night becomes a regular event for them, with Gabriel sometimes cooking beforehand. Sam’s hesitant at first, awkward about asking Gabriel about his life. He knows Gabriel is older than Castiel, and Castiel is a graduate student, so that puts Gabriel at least in his twenties. Fortunately, Gabriel answers all of Sam’s questions with the same easy humor, telling Sam all about backpacking through Europe after getting his undergraduate degree, getting a real massage therapy certification (he wasn’t joking), working in a tattoo parlor and a music store and as a lifeguard before coming back to get another degree. Gabriel fields some questions with a wink or a joke, but never takes offense at Sam’s prying. Sam’s amazed that Gabriel seems just as interested in him, asking about high school and Dean and Sam’s plans for the future while he teaches Sam how to roast a chicken or bake the perfect cherry pie, making virgin jokes just to watch Sam blush.
They only do it when they know Dean won’t be around, and they always end up wrapped around each other on the couch. Gabriel never takes his cuddling past something that could almost be called friendly, but Sam aches for more. He gets hard when they cuddle, and he’s sure Gabriel’s felt it more than once, but he’s never mentioned it.
***
It’s the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and Sam and Gabe have the apartment to themselves. Sam knows they’re only going home for four days, but it seems like a long time to go without seeing Gabriel. Since Sam and Gabe have started hanging out, the Novaks have almost entirely stopped avoiding the apartment. Sam’s even eaten dinner with Cas a few times, when Dean’s not around of course. Castiel isn’t exactly standoffish, more distracted, but he’d managed to shoot Sam a few weary smiles before depositing his plate in the sink and disappearing back into his room.
Tonight, Cas is nowhere to be seen, either locked in his room or out studying; Sam doesn’t really care. What he cares about is that he and Gabriel are on the couch, Sam lying mostly on top of Gabriel, but there’s no movie on. Gabriel didn’t put one in, didn’t turn on the TV, just laid down and opened his arms for Sam to crawl in. Sam props his head on one hand, looking up at Gabriel, and takes a deep breath for courage.
“I’m 18, you know. Totally legal.” Smooth.
Gabriel’s eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t answer right away. Sam’s not sure where to go from here, how to get from what he’s just said to what he wants to ask.
“What are you trying to tell me, Sam?” Gabriel finally says, and Sam drops his head down to rest on Gabriel’s chest with a sigh.
“I don’t know. I thought you... Don’t you want...?” He tails off. It’s Gabriel’s turn to sigh this time.
“Yeah, Sam, I want. I want you,” Gabriel says, and Sam’s head snaps up. “But... It’s complicated, with your brother, and us living together... and you’re a lot younger than me.”
Sam’s brow furrows. He’s never really heard Gabriel trying to be responsible, and he wonders he’s just saying this to make Sam feel better about being rejected.
“Okay,” Sam says slowly, pulling himself off Gabriel. “Then why are we doing this?” he asks, motioning at their tangled bodies. Gabriel looks guilty.
“I... uh... I thought you liked it.”
Sam stares at him. “Yeah, I did like it. I do like it. I want more of it.” Now he’s said it, can’t take it back, and he watches Gabriel’s expression change to one of doubt.
“Sam...”
“Yeah. You said. It’s complicated. But it doesn’t have to be, right? I mean it can just be a thing we do, like we do the couch thing. We can just... do other stuff also.” Sam tries to say it confidently, like he knows it’s true. Gabriel looks torn, so Sam shifts to straddle his hips, propping his elbows on either side of Gabriel’s head.
“Can we do this, Gabriel? Just... No one else even has to know, it won’t be a problem with Dean, I--” Sam’s cut off by Gabriel leaning up to press their lips together, Gabriel’s mouth soft and pliant under Sam. He lets Sam set the pace, smoothing his hands down Sam’s back to rest lightly on his hips, parting his lips for Sam’s tongue when it flicks along the seam of his mouth. Sam hasn’t kissed very many people, and he’s never kissed someone he wanted this badly. He can’t seem to stop, even when he’s getting dizzy and he knows he should breathe. Gabriel lets him take anything, gives back just the same, and Sam can’t stop licking into his mouth, biting at Gabriel’s lips just to hear the little whimpers from the back of his throat. Sam’s hard again, really, very hard, and when he shifts to get more comfortable, Gabriel shudders under him.
“Fuck... Sam... We should go to your room or something.”
The way Gabriel’s voice is low and rough stirs something in Sam and he scrambles up, adjusting his pants before hauling Gabriel along to his room. Sam’s tempted to just throw Gabriel onto the bed, knows he probably could, too, and that really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. Instead, he gently pushes the smaller man back to lie on his rumpled sheets, climbing on after him, bracketing his hips and leaning down to kiss him again. Gabriel surges up, arms wrapping around Sam, drawing him in, and Sam thinks finally, finally as he grinds down against Gabriel. Gabriel’s gasping into his mouth, hands tightening on Sam’s back, and Sam thinks they should be taking their clothes off, they should be doing something, but neither of them can seem to drag their lips away from each other long enough.
Gabriel’s hips are shifting up against Sam, and he can feel Gabriel’s cock through his pants, hard and hot and slotted in the groove of Sam’s hip. Sam rolls his hips down again, harder, just to feel Gabriel shudder. They find a rhythm, and as they pick up speed their kissing becomes sloppy, both of them breaking away to pant into each other’s mouths as they move together.
Sam comes first, hips jerking and stuttering, hands clenching on Gabriel’s arms, and when it’s done he collapses to the side and rubs Gabriel’s cock through his pants until he gets to watch Gabriel arch and bite his lip, hips jerking frantically against Sam’s hand. The sight has Sam’s spent cock twitching uselessly and he can’t tear his eyes away until Gabriel relaxes. They both lie there catching their breath for a few minutes.
“You okay?” Gabriel asks, turning to brush the hair out of Sam’s eyes.
“Great,” Sam says with a grin. “You?”
“Yeah,” Gabe says with a contented sigh. “Gonna go clean up. Wanna watch a movie?”
“Mmhmm,” Sam says, trying to blink away sleepiness. Gabriel laughs and pushes him out of bed.
“C’mon, you can fall asleep on the couch. With me,” he says as he wanders down the hall.
Sam changes out of his sticky boxers, using them to wipe the come off his skin. He pulls on some sweatpants and walks into the living room to find Gabriel already on the couch, movie paused on the opening credits. Gabe holds the blanket up for Sam to crawl in, and Sam curls himself comfortably against Gabriel’s chest. As predicted, he falls asleep before the halfway point, and doesn’t really wake up fully when Gabriel puts him to bed.
***
Cas has taken to staying past closing every night that Dean works at the café. Dean asked Jo if Cas stays other nights, and got a weird look and a shake of the head in response. He makes Cas eat when he’s been sitting there for too long, and sometimes when he drops a coffee on Cas’s table he “accidentally” pushes the book or paper or whatever out of Cas’s hands. Once in a while, Dean will even let Cas stay an extra hour, watching as Cas works his way through a pile of work that just doesn’t seem possible.
Tonight, Dean closed the café a half hour ago, but he’s not tired and Cas isn’t moving. Dean’s debating bringing him another coffee, before deciding it’s too late for coffee and Cas looks like he needs some sleep anyway. He brings over a hot cocoa instead, plenty of whipped cream on top, and a brownie he’d set aside earlier. He was going to give it to Sam, who still gets stupidly excited about all the free food Dean can obtain, but Dean can see the slight tremor in Cas’s hand as it turns another page. He stopped questioning why he’s watching Cas so closely weeks ago. It’s just a habit now.
“Okay, you’re done,” Dean announces as he reaches the table, putting the food down and yanking the papers away from Cas. Cas doesn’t protest as Dean piles it all into Cas’s bag and pushes the brownie and drink forward. “C’mon, eat, you look like Death.”
Cas obeys, eyes still glazed over as he takes a bite. He blinks down at the brownie a few times like he’s surprised to find it there.
“You brought me dessert? Did I eat dinner already?”
Dean laughs, but there’s a hint of concern in his voice when he replies.
“Nah, you didn’t yet, I just thought you might want this. Need to enjoy something, you know?”
Cas nods, taking another bite before offering it to Dean, who shakes his head. When Cas sips the hot cocoa, he makes another surprised face.
“This is a lot of chocolate, you know,” Cas says, but he takes another sip, whipped cream clinging to his lip. Dean reaches over and wipes it off, laughing at Cas’s startled face.
“You’re a mess,” Dean says, affection creeping into his voice. “What would you do without me?”
Cas tilts his head curiously, but doesn’t answer, electing to return to the brownie. Dean starts to feel awkward sitting there watching him eat. They haven’t exactly addressed the fact that Dean does these little things for Cas. They haven’t addressed anything, actually, seeing as they don’t speak. Dean’s still a complete jackass to Cas at home, although that might be more out of habit than actual resentment.
Dean goes to grab his bag and comes back to find Cas standing at the door, waiting, drink in hand. They’ve never gone home together, and somehow that’s always kept the café separate, this space where Dean doesn’t have to hate Cas. They walk in silence for a few blocks before Dean speaks.
“So why’re you always working so hard?”
Cas looks up, surprised, then seems to mull it over for a bit while they walk.
“Well, I’m a graduate student, but I’m also a TA for several classes on top of the requirements. And I’m working on another project with Professor Mills, because that research is very interesting. It’s really not that much work, lately it’s just been...” He doesn’t finish, maybe because Dean snorted at his last statement.
“Not that much? Cas, you work all the time. It’s all you do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have fun,” Dean says, and he lets the concern he feels color his tone. Cas doesn’t answer, just chews his lip thoughtfully while Dean pulls out the key to the building.
“Maybe you should take a break or something, you know? Or like... lighten up your load, maybe you don’t need to be a TA for all the classes?” he asks hopefully, but Cas just shakes his head and doesn’t say anything. Dean opens the front door for Cas, and they walk in together. Sam and Gabriel are nowhere to be seen, and Cas mutters a quick “thanks” to Dean before locking himself in his room. Dean stands there, confused. He’s been wanting to say these things to Cas for months, just hasn’t dared speak to him, not when he actively makes the guy uncomfortable in his own home every day. Dean shakes himself, forcing the prickly feeling away, and heads for the shower.
***
Part III
The next time they’re home alone together, Sam’s trying to cram for a midterm. He’s actually been keeping up with the class, since he’s, as Dean would say, a big fucking nerd, but he’s still a little terrified for his first real college midterm. He’s lying on his bed trying to read through his notes one more time, absentmindedly kicking the wall, when he hears a “tssk tssk” and looks up to find Gabriel leaning in his doorway.
“I can smell the anxiety from here,” Gabriel says. “Midterms?”
Sam nods, wound too tight to speak.
“You know what takes the edge off?” Gabriel says, waggling his eyebrows.
“I don’t smoke weed,” Sam says quickly, and Gabriel laughs.
“Not that, wouldn’t wanna corrupt an innocent little freshman. Nah, how ‘bout a massage? I’m certified, you know,” Gabriel adds with a grin. Sam considers it..
“I should really keep studying....” he starts, even though it isn’t true. He’s learned as much as he’s going to at this point.
“C’mon, I’ll be gentle, I promise,” Gabriel says with a wink that sends a rush of heat to Sam’s face.
“Okay,” Sam relents, piling his notebooks off the bed. “Do you wanna do it here?”
“Yeah, this is good,” Gabriel says, nodding. “Let me get the oil. Take off your shirt and lie face down.”
Sam does as he’s told, ignoring the way the order sends nervous energy coursing through him. He lies on his bed and waits until he feels the dip of the mattress, then Gabriel straddling his hips. Gabriel’s hands are warm and slick as they slide slowly up his back, pressure light at first, then firm as he works out the knots in Sam’s muscles. Sam tries to hold in the groans and grunts of pleasure, but when Gabriel finds a particularly sore spot where Sam’s neck meets his shoulders, he can’t hold back. He expects Gabriel to laugh, but Gabriel just leans a little closer, presses a little harder, and murmurs just above him.
“ ‘S good, Sam?” Gabriel’s voice sounds a little lower than usual, and the words are accompanied by a hard, kneading thumb right where Sam’s sore. Sam “mmhmm”s in response and presses up into the touch. He’s starting to breathe hard, struggling to hold still under Gabriel’s strong hands, and he can feel himself growing hard. Gabriel moves lower down his back, still asking if it feels good, stopping to rub at the knots of tension he finds. When he reaches the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants, he slips the tips of his thumbs just past it before leaning to whisper into Sam’s ear.
“Okay if I go a little lower?”
Sam groans and arches up, nodding, and Gabriel exhales hard before moving his hands down, kneading at Sam’s ass. He only pulls Sam’s pants halfway down the swell of his ass, but it’s enough for the fabric to tug a little at Sam’s erection, sensation shooting up into his belly. Sam’s relaxed state is quickly evolving into a tense, aroused one, and he’s starting to think he needs to end this massage before it turns into a surprise happy ending. He’s fighting not to rut into the sheets under him and Gabriel keeps telling him to relax. Finally Gabriel sits back a little, resting on the back of Sam’s thighs.
“You okay? You just got really tense, you wanna stop?”
Sam nods without looking up, mortified. Gabriel gets up slowly, but doesn’t leave the room. “Is it something I did? Was it because I... I’m sorry if I went too far...” Gabriel trails off and Sam stays perfectly still, too embarrassed to face him. Eventually, Gabriel walks out of Sam’s room, quietly closing the door behind him.
The instant he’s gone, Sam shoves his hand down between his hips and the bed and wraps his fingers around his cock. He jerks himself fast and a little too rough, mad at himself for making such a good moment awkward. He pants at the thought of Gabriel touching him, how Gabriel’s slick, firm hands would feel on his cock. He comes with a whimper into his pillow, and doesn’t get up for a while after, letting the come grow tacky in his sweatpants.
***
Ever since Halloween, Dean’s been dropping free coffees on Cas’s table at the café anytime Cas seems especially overworked. Sometimes he’s reading out of a textbook, eyes not lifting from the page as he takes sip after sip of coffee, occasionally stopping to make a note in the margins. Sometimes he’s grading, a weary, bored look on his face as he goes through paper after paper. Dean watches him more than he’d like to admit, and as the weeks go by, he grows more and more concerned.
Cas is looking increasingly exhausted, his clothes rumpled, his hair perpetually disheveled. Sometimes Dean thinks about telling Gabriel to look out for his brother, get him to lighten up his workload, but then the thought of speaking to Gabriel makes Dean want to strangle the guy, so it remains nothing but a thought.
In early November, Dean starts dropping occasional muffins and cookies on Cas’s table as well, noticing how rarely the man seems to eat. Castiel always responds the same way, with a surprised, “Thank you,” and curious stare. Dean never says anything at all, though he frequently imagines what it would be like if they talked. Cas needs someone to help him lighten up, and Dean knows he could do that. Except he hates the guy. So there’s that.
It’s a Friday night, and it’s ten minutes past closing. Cas hasn’t looked up in hours and Dean can’t bring himself to kick him out. He usually calls out “Closing in five minutes,” as if the café were full, even when there’s only Castiel in his corner. Tonight, Dean just closes the doors, flips the sign, and puts up the chairs, without disturbing Cas. Castiel is still steadily sipping his coffee as he reads, and Dean realizes that in the six hours Cas has been here today, he hasn’t eaten. Maybe it’s the protective older brother part of Dean, or maybe it’s something else, but he finds himself pulling out some bread, looking around in the back to make Cas a sandwich. He brings it over to the table, intending to just drop it next to Cas’s books like he usually does. Cas doesn’t look up from his book, though, so completely transfixed, his blue eyes wide and red-rimmed and his lower lip caught between his teeth in a way that makes Dean want to wrap him in a blanket and...
Instead, Dean yanks the book out of Cas’s grasp and snaps it shut, putting it on the pile and shoving the sandwich under Cas’s nose.
“Eat.” He says, and Cas just blinks up at him like he’s not sure where he is. “Jesus, how long have you been studying? Food, Cas, you need food. Eat the sandwich.”
Cas’s eyes drop to the sandwich and he stares at it for a minute before lifting it to his lips.
“Mfffankff” Cas mumbles through the food, and Dean grins at him before getting up. Cas leaves while he’s cleaning everything up, looking dazed and a little lost, and Dean considers insisting on walking him home before deciding that might be taking it a little far. Cas is a big boy, he reminds himself, and one that Dean is supposed to hate.
***
Recently, Sam usually finds himself studying alone at the kitchen table late at night. It’s not that he hates parties, exactly, it’s just that interacting with that many strangers always seems like too much work. His friend Jess is constantly teasing him about being a hermit, but Sam’s used to that: he’s been getting it from Dean for years. Dean often goes straight from work to the bars, and if Cas comes home, it’s only to lock himself in his room immediately.
So tonight finds Sam half-working on a paper, half watching TV, when he hears the front door open. He heard Cas come home half an hour ago, so he assumes this must be Dean. Gabriel’s hardly been home since the massage.
“Hey Sam,” Gabriel says casually, ruffling Sam’s hair as he walks in and drops onto the couch, kicking off his shoes. Sam turns to glare at him as he tries to fix his hair, but Gabriel just laughs. “You wanna watch a movie?”
Sam nods gratefully, standing up and stretching. His paper’s not going to get written tonight, and a distraction would be nice, even if he is still awkward around Gabriel. He turns off the kitchen light and goes to sit beside him on the couch, trying not to think about the last time they were this close. Gabriel leans in to pull the blanket over both of them and starts to wrap his arm around Sam’s shoulders, then stops.
“Hey, this is okay, right?” he asks hesitantly. Sam nods and lets himself be gently manhandled into lying against Gabriel, his heart pounding, his breath already coming fast. Gabriel’s shirt is riding up a little and Sam lets his hand land on Gabriel’s hip so his thumb can stroke along the skin there.
The movie starts, and ten minutes in Sam’s lost track of what they’re watching because Gabriel’s hand is rubbing circles on his back, moving lower and lower, and Sam has somehow found the nerve to push his hand under Gabriel’s shirt to lie against the soft skin below his ribs. Gabriel’s eyes are fixed on the screen. Sam lets his fingers stroke gentle patterns along Gabriel’s skin, up to his ribs then down to the skin just above the waistband of his pants, lingering in the dip of his hips.
Gabriel’s hand slips lower to tug up the hem of Sam’s tee shirt and lie flat against the small of Sam’s back, fingertips sliding under the waistband of Sam’s sweatpants. Every spot where Gabriel’s skin is touching his feels like it’s crackling with electricity, and Sam wants more than light grazes, wants it so bad it almost hurts. He doesn’t dare move, except to keep tracing patterns on Gabriel’s skin. Gabriel’s hand does the same, fingertips light against his skin as they move around to the side of his thigh. Sam’s not wearing boxers, and he’s suddenly very aware that if Gabriel keeps going he’s going to reach Sam’s cock, and Sam’s been hard almost since he got on the couch. Gabriel’s hands still, curling around Sam’s hip, fingertips just shy of where Sam desperately wants them. Sam can’t find a way to ask, so lies perfectly still, achingly hard and tries to will Gabriel to touch him.
Gabriel’s hand stays where it is, and eventually Sam relaxes, his heart rate dropping back to something resembling normal as he shifts more comfortably against Gabriel. He falls asleep around halfway through the movie, and wakes up to Gabriel inching his way out from under him, trying to loosen Sam’s vice-like grip on his shirt. Sam mumbles something unintelligible and Gabriel chuckles quietly, pulling Sam up.
“C’mon, time for bed.” Sam lets Gabriel lead him to his bed and tries to pull him into it without thinking. Gabriel laughs. “Hey, c’mon, I have a bed just next door. Sleep tight, Sam.” Sam’s already asleep by the time Gabriel closes the door, warmed by the affection in Gabriel’s tone.
***
Movie night becomes a regular event for them, with Gabriel sometimes cooking beforehand. Sam’s hesitant at first, awkward about asking Gabriel about his life. He knows Gabriel is older than Castiel, and Castiel is a graduate student, so that puts Gabriel at least in his twenties. Fortunately, Gabriel answers all of Sam’s questions with the same easy humor, telling Sam all about backpacking through Europe after getting his undergraduate degree, getting a real massage therapy certification (he wasn’t joking), working in a tattoo parlor and a music store and as a lifeguard before coming back to get another degree. Gabriel fields some questions with a wink or a joke, but never takes offense at Sam’s prying. Sam’s amazed that Gabriel seems just as interested in him, asking about high school and Dean and Sam’s plans for the future while he teaches Sam how to roast a chicken or bake the perfect cherry pie, making virgin jokes just to watch Sam blush.
They only do it when they know Dean won’t be around, and they always end up wrapped around each other on the couch. Gabriel never takes his cuddling past something that could almost be called friendly, but Sam aches for more. He gets hard when they cuddle, and he’s sure Gabriel’s felt it more than once, but he’s never mentioned it.
***
It’s the Tuesday before Thanksgiving, and Sam and Gabe have the apartment to themselves. Sam knows they’re only going home for four days, but it seems like a long time to go without seeing Gabriel. Since Sam and Gabe have started hanging out, the Novaks have almost entirely stopped avoiding the apartment. Sam’s even eaten dinner with Cas a few times, when Dean’s not around of course. Castiel isn’t exactly standoffish, more distracted, but he’d managed to shoot Sam a few weary smiles before depositing his plate in the sink and disappearing back into his room.
Tonight, Cas is nowhere to be seen, either locked in his room or out studying; Sam doesn’t really care. What he cares about is that he and Gabriel are on the couch, Sam lying mostly on top of Gabriel, but there’s no movie on. Gabriel didn’t put one in, didn’t turn on the TV, just laid down and opened his arms for Sam to crawl in. Sam props his head on one hand, looking up at Gabriel, and takes a deep breath for courage.
“I’m 18, you know. Totally legal.” Smooth.
Gabriel’s eyebrows rise, but he doesn’t answer right away. Sam’s not sure where to go from here, how to get from what he’s just said to what he wants to ask.
“What are you trying to tell me, Sam?” Gabriel finally says, and Sam drops his head down to rest on Gabriel’s chest with a sigh.
“I don’t know. I thought you... Don’t you want...?” He tails off. It’s Gabriel’s turn to sigh this time.
“Yeah, Sam, I want. I want you,” Gabriel says, and Sam’s head snaps up. “But... It’s complicated, with your brother, and us living together... and you’re a lot younger than me.”
Sam’s brow furrows. He’s never really heard Gabriel trying to be responsible, and he wonders he’s just saying this to make Sam feel better about being rejected.
“Okay,” Sam says slowly, pulling himself off Gabriel. “Then why are we doing this?” he asks, motioning at their tangled bodies. Gabriel looks guilty.
“I... uh... I thought you liked it.”
Sam stares at him. “Yeah, I did like it. I do like it. I want more of it.” Now he’s said it, can’t take it back, and he watches Gabriel’s expression change to one of doubt.
“Sam...”
“Yeah. You said. It’s complicated. But it doesn’t have to be, right? I mean it can just be a thing we do, like we do the couch thing. We can just... do other stuff also.” Sam tries to say it confidently, like he knows it’s true. Gabriel looks torn, so Sam shifts to straddle his hips, propping his elbows on either side of Gabriel’s head.
“Can we do this, Gabriel? Just... No one else even has to know, it won’t be a problem with Dean, I--” Sam’s cut off by Gabriel leaning up to press their lips together, Gabriel’s mouth soft and pliant under Sam. He lets Sam set the pace, smoothing his hands down Sam’s back to rest lightly on his hips, parting his lips for Sam’s tongue when it flicks along the seam of his mouth. Sam hasn’t kissed very many people, and he’s never kissed someone he wanted this badly. He can’t seem to stop, even when he’s getting dizzy and he knows he should breathe. Gabriel lets him take anything, gives back just the same, and Sam can’t stop licking into his mouth, biting at Gabriel’s lips just to hear the little whimpers from the back of his throat. Sam’s hard again, really, very hard, and when he shifts to get more comfortable, Gabriel shudders under him.
“Fuck... Sam... We should go to your room or something.”
The way Gabriel’s voice is low and rough stirs something in Sam and he scrambles up, adjusting his pants before hauling Gabriel along to his room. Sam’s tempted to just throw Gabriel onto the bed, knows he probably could, too, and that really shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does. Instead, he gently pushes the smaller man back to lie on his rumpled sheets, climbing on after him, bracketing his hips and leaning down to kiss him again. Gabriel surges up, arms wrapping around Sam, drawing him in, and Sam thinks finally, finally as he grinds down against Gabriel. Gabriel’s gasping into his mouth, hands tightening on Sam’s back, and Sam thinks they should be taking their clothes off, they should be doing something, but neither of them can seem to drag their lips away from each other long enough.
Gabriel’s hips are shifting up against Sam, and he can feel Gabriel’s cock through his pants, hard and hot and slotted in the groove of Sam’s hip. Sam rolls his hips down again, harder, just to feel Gabriel shudder. They find a rhythm, and as they pick up speed their kissing becomes sloppy, both of them breaking away to pant into each other’s mouths as they move together.
Sam comes first, hips jerking and stuttering, hands clenching on Gabriel’s arms, and when it’s done he collapses to the side and rubs Gabriel’s cock through his pants until he gets to watch Gabriel arch and bite his lip, hips jerking frantically against Sam’s hand. The sight has Sam’s spent cock twitching uselessly and he can’t tear his eyes away until Gabriel relaxes. They both lie there catching their breath for a few minutes.
“You okay?” Gabriel asks, turning to brush the hair out of Sam’s eyes.
“Great,” Sam says with a grin. “You?”
“Yeah,” Gabe says with a contented sigh. “Gonna go clean up. Wanna watch a movie?”
“Mmhmm,” Sam says, trying to blink away sleepiness. Gabriel laughs and pushes him out of bed.
“C’mon, you can fall asleep on the couch. With me,” he says as he wanders down the hall.
Sam changes out of his sticky boxers, using them to wipe the come off his skin. He pulls on some sweatpants and walks into the living room to find Gabriel already on the couch, movie paused on the opening credits. Gabe holds the blanket up for Sam to crawl in, and Sam curls himself comfortably against Gabriel’s chest. As predicted, he falls asleep before the halfway point, and doesn’t really wake up fully when Gabriel puts him to bed.
***
Cas has taken to staying past closing every night that Dean works at the café. Dean asked Jo if Cas stays other nights, and got a weird look and a shake of the head in response. He makes Cas eat when he’s been sitting there for too long, and sometimes when he drops a coffee on Cas’s table he “accidentally” pushes the book or paper or whatever out of Cas’s hands. Once in a while, Dean will even let Cas stay an extra hour, watching as Cas works his way through a pile of work that just doesn’t seem possible.
Tonight, Dean closed the café a half hour ago, but he’s not tired and Cas isn’t moving. Dean’s debating bringing him another coffee, before deciding it’s too late for coffee and Cas looks like he needs some sleep anyway. He brings over a hot cocoa instead, plenty of whipped cream on top, and a brownie he’d set aside earlier. He was going to give it to Sam, who still gets stupidly excited about all the free food Dean can obtain, but Dean can see the slight tremor in Cas’s hand as it turns another page. He stopped questioning why he’s watching Cas so closely weeks ago. It’s just a habit now.
“Okay, you’re done,” Dean announces as he reaches the table, putting the food down and yanking the papers away from Cas. Cas doesn’t protest as Dean piles it all into Cas’s bag and pushes the brownie and drink forward. “C’mon, eat, you look like Death.”
Cas obeys, eyes still glazed over as he takes a bite. He blinks down at the brownie a few times like he’s surprised to find it there.
“You brought me dessert? Did I eat dinner already?”
Dean laughs, but there’s a hint of concern in his voice when he replies.
“Nah, you didn’t yet, I just thought you might want this. Need to enjoy something, you know?”
Cas nods, taking another bite before offering it to Dean, who shakes his head. When Cas sips the hot cocoa, he makes another surprised face.
“This is a lot of chocolate, you know,” Cas says, but he takes another sip, whipped cream clinging to his lip. Dean reaches over and wipes it off, laughing at Cas’s startled face.
“You’re a mess,” Dean says, affection creeping into his voice. “What would you do without me?”
Cas tilts his head curiously, but doesn’t answer, electing to return to the brownie. Dean starts to feel awkward sitting there watching him eat. They haven’t exactly addressed the fact that Dean does these little things for Cas. They haven’t addressed anything, actually, seeing as they don’t speak. Dean’s still a complete jackass to Cas at home, although that might be more out of habit than actual resentment.
Dean goes to grab his bag and comes back to find Cas standing at the door, waiting, drink in hand. They’ve never gone home together, and somehow that’s always kept the café separate, this space where Dean doesn’t have to hate Cas. They walk in silence for a few blocks before Dean speaks.
“So why’re you always working so hard?”
Cas looks up, surprised, then seems to mull it over for a bit while they walk.
“Well, I’m a graduate student, but I’m also a TA for several classes on top of the requirements. And I’m working on another project with Professor Mills, because that research is very interesting. It’s really not that much work, lately it’s just been...” He doesn’t finish, maybe because Dean snorted at his last statement.
“Not that much? Cas, you work all the time. It’s all you do. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you have fun,” Dean says, and he lets the concern he feels color his tone. Cas doesn’t answer, just chews his lip thoughtfully while Dean pulls out the key to the building.
“Maybe you should take a break or something, you know? Or like... lighten up your load, maybe you don’t need to be a TA for all the classes?” he asks hopefully, but Cas just shakes his head and doesn’t say anything. Dean opens the front door for Cas, and they walk in together. Sam and Gabriel are nowhere to be seen, and Cas mutters a quick “thanks” to Dean before locking himself in his room. Dean stands there, confused. He’s been wanting to say these things to Cas for months, just hasn’t dared speak to him, not when he actively makes the guy uncomfortable in his own home every day. Dean shakes himself, forcing the prickly feeling away, and heads for the shower.
***
Part III