The Box (Gabriel/Sam | R)
Title: The Box
Rating: R
Pairing: Gabriel/Sam
Warnings: minor character spoilers for 5x19, post apocalypse
Word Count: 2981
Betas: ameonna1 and sweetsyren
A/N: This is the fic otherwise known as the "Cleaning fic".
Summary: The apocalypse is over and Sam is cleaning.
Sam's cleaning when he finds the box shoved under the bed, covered in a thick layer of dust. It's just a box, a wooden box, forgotten and surrounded by dust bunnies that Sam's sure are going to start talking to him.
But as he pulls it out, his fingers leaving marks in the heavy dust, he hesitates. Because that box was shoved back there to be forgotten.
If someone had told Sam a year ago... even a few months ago that the Archangel Gabriel, the Trickster, had a house by rocky stretch of coast Sam would have laughed. But Sam's been living in the house for a week now and it makes him smile more than laugh. It's very... Gabriel.
It's not grand and showy, and you could drive by it without a second glance. Sam likes it though. The master bedroom he shares with Gabriel is just the right size and the kitchen is laid out so they can both move around without tripping over each other.
So yeah, Sam likes Gabriel's house. He likes it better when Gabriel's there, which isn't often. There's Heaven to put in order and Sam's supposed to be resting... healing. His leg gives him trouble and sometimes the stairs seem to take forever.
Dean's off doing the same with Castiel though Sam suspects Castiel doesn't have to leave Dean's side as often. And if Sam's honest with himself, something he's trying more often, it stings, it hurts, that he and Dean are healing miles - states - apart from each other. They talk every day but Sam's still further east than Dean's ever cared to go and Dean's still at Bobby's. And well, Sam guesses the place is Dean's now.
When Gabriel brought him to the house, the Archangel and former Trickster had almost seemed worried. Like Sam would find the place lacking. But Sam likes it. The mantle is covered in things Gabriel must have collected over the years. Offerings left to him maybe? Gifts from other pagan gods?
It had been clear that Gabriel hadn't been there in awhile. Dust covered everything and the house smelled musty, disused. Gabriel had shrugged it off. "I get around, you know? Not a lot of time to kick back lately," he'd told Sam with a grin.
He'd started to snap his fingers, but Sam had put his hand over Gabriel's. "Nah, it'll give me something to do."
"You're supposed to be resting," Gabriel had sighed, but he'd twined his fingers with Sam's and nuzzled his throat. Gabriel was very tactile, more so when they were alone. Not that Sam minded at all.
Sam had smiled at him. "Hey, compared to stopping the Apocalypse, defeating the devil, and convincing Heaven that free will is a good thing? Cleaning is resting."
So Sam's been cleaning. He can only do so much sometimes before his leg bothers him and he's still trying to shake off the exhaustion that's plagued him for what feels like years. Dean's got it worse, he knows, so he doesn't complain. Not to Dean and not to Gabriel.
Gabriel always knows though, and tells him to stop pushing himself so hard. And that it doesn't matter if some of the rooms stay dusty or the bathrooms have mildew. Sam likes it though, it makes him feel... settled.
But that's how he winds up on the floor of the master bedroom, holding a dusty wooden box. There's not a lock on it, just an old metal latch.
"It's just a box. Not a hex box, nothing carved into it." he says out loud, but somehow it feels wrong that his fingers have disturbed the dust. He feels like his intruded on something. Invaded some little private piece of Gabriel that he's not supposed to see.
"Or maybe it's just old porn," Sam laughs at himself. He traces out Gabriel's name in the dust. The box is old, but plain, and as Sam turns it in his hands he can't find any nails or dove tails where the woods been fitted together. It's as if someone took a solid block of wood and hollowed it out. There aren't hinges but leather runs across the top of the box and down the back.
Sam thinks it's beautiful. He should put it back under the bed he tells himself, as he runs his finger over the latch. Put it back with the dust bunnies and pretend he hadn't found it. It doesn't matter what's in it. He wipes the dust and Gabriel's name with his sleeve.
Now he can see there is something carved into the lid, the lines and marks that make up Gabriel's name. Gabriel's seal.
"Pandora's box," Sam murmurs. A quiet seems to have fallen over the house, over the bedroom. All the windows are open but even the ocean seems to hushed, far away. "Or something like it."
He traces the lines of Gabriel's seal. His leg is starting to ache. So Sam gets to his feet and lifts the box to the bed, with it's soft mattress and even softer sheets. He places the box in the center of the bed and sits next to it, stretching out his aching leg. The seal is there beckoning to him like Gabriel himself does. That pull he feels when Gabriel is near.
He'll just ask Gabriel about it when he gets back. If Gabriel doesn't want to tell him then it's fine, he's allowed to have his secrets. Just like Sam has his. Like that he knows now what the hand print on Dean's shoulder means, what that makes Dean to Castiel, and Castiel to Dean.
And the secret of just how much it aches in Sam's chest that he doesn't bear his own hand print.
"Just leave it Sam," he whispers. A breeze blows through the window and he traces Gabriel's seal again. "Just leave it be."
But Sam's never been good at leaving things be.
He undoes the latch, then slowly lifts the lid of the box.
Nothing happens.
No dark smoke escapes, no blinding light, not even a sound. The box isn't empty though, and Sam looks at the objects sitting in the box. His fingers rest on either side of it and he wonders why Gabriel would hide these things away.
There's a small sliver skull, gleaming and polished though it must have sat in the box for who knows how long. Sam touches it and it feels icy cold under his finger tips. "Kali," he murmurs. He remembers the woman, Goddess from the hotel months ago. The way she looked at Gabriel. And some how he knows this was... is from her.
A lovers token.
Near the skull is a scalloped shell, it feels normal when Sam lifts it up and turns it over in his fingers. It gleams in the sun light, seeming to change colors as he turns it. He returns it to the box. Then looks curiously at the feathers that also lie in the box. Two are white, one tipped sliver the other gold. There is a black one tipped in copper. Another is a bright fire-red.
Sam doesn't touch them. He knows what they'd feel like, his fingers have stroked Gabriel's wings and been left tingling but wanting more. Gabriel gasps and pants when Sam touches his wings, and Sam loves that he can drive Gabriel to the brink with nothing but his hand's on the Archangel's wings.
There's a smaller pure black feather tied to a leather cord, strung with colorfully beads. There's a small bird's skull is also attached to the cord, and Sam wonders if perhaps it was worn in someone's hair.
Something at the bottom of the box; under the feathers, skull, shell, and a sprig of mistletoe, is glowing dimly. So dimly that Sam hadn't seen it at first, but now he does. It's golden and flat, resting flush against the wooden bottom of the box.
"What are you?" Sam asks out loud. He reaches into the box and gently pulls it free.
It's a golden disk, light and impossibly thin. It glows dimly, and Sam's fingers tingle as he holds it. He runs his fingers over the flat surface, then over the edge. It's growing hot in his hands but the burning sensation almost feels good. The feeling is so close to the feel of Gabriel's hands and wings against his skin, to the white hot something that washes over him when Gabriel comes.
All of sudden Sam knows what he's holding and his breath catches in his throat. "It's a halo," he tells the empty room, the birds outside, the silent fan that turns above the bed. "It's Gabriel's halo."
Sam's hands tremble with something that has nothing to do with the burning tingle. Gabriel's halo was sitting dim and forgotten at the bottom of a old dusty box. Sam doesn't know how he's seeing it or touching it, he just knows that it shouldn't be here. "If Gabriel's been going to Heaven then... Wouldn't he need this?"
Gabriel has been lying to him. For almost two weeks Gabriel has been lying. Sam inhales sharply and tells himself that it shouldn't hurt this much. Gabriel lied, Gabriel cheated, he'd been a Trickster. But sitting on the bed in a empty house, because Gabriel had left again with mention of Heaven needing him, it does hurt. Almost as much as the lack of mark on his skin.
The halo glows slightly brighter in his hands, and he can't help but run his fingers over it. A tingling shock travels up his arm, followed by a warmth that's all Gabriel. Sam's felt that warmth before when Gabriel's inside him, the Archangel's grace twining around him. Sam's hands shake, and he wants to put it back in the box, shove the box back under the bed and pretend he didn't find it. Because this is big. This is... this is important. The box is important. Things Gabriel wanted to keep, to treasure but didn't want to display. Things he wanted to hide away from prying eyes. Sam suddenly knows that the feathers belong to Gabriel's brothers, the other Archangels. To Lucifer - Morningstar.
His breath comes out in a shaky exhale.
He hears the sound of wings and he knows he should move. He should put the halo back, let go of the burning, tingling warmth that he wants to press into his skin. Against his heart and let it burn into his skin. There are the soft sounds of Gabriel's boots on the stairs, in the hallway. He hasn't called out for Sam, like he normally does.
Sam doesn't move, just holds the halo tighter, the edges cutting into his fingers. It flares up for a moment then dims. Sam doesn't look up, he can't. God, he can't.
He knows Gabriel is in the room, standing by the door. The slight shift of the floor boards, the stillness of the room that makes Sam want to choke. Slowly he makes his fingers unclench from the halo but he doesn't put it down. If he lets go of it he's afraid...
"I was cleaning under the bed," Sam says his voice sounding too ragged, too loud. "I wasn't... I wasn't trying to be nosy. I wasn't trying to pry."
It's a weak excuse, Sam knows. He still pried, he still opened the box.
Gabriel doesn't speak and if he moves Sam can't hear it.
"I shouldn't have opened the box. I'm sorry," he says. It doesn't make up for the invasion. Gabriel trusted him and Sam let him down. "I... you could have told me. If you weren't going up to Heaven... if..." Sam trails off.
He can't even hear Gabriel breathe, not that Gabriel needs to. The only sign that the angel is still in the room is the sound of fabric against fabric. There's nothing of his in the box, the thought comes like a revelation. Like ice in his stomach, that even the warmth of the halo can't melt. He doesn't wear Gabriel's mark. He's not important enough to be added to this box.
"Sam," Gabriel starts, soft and low.
"Don't send me away," Sam whispers and hates himself for it. He shouldn't beg, he's a Winchester, he's a grown man. He can take rejection, even if it's Gabriel. "Please."
There's silence behind him.
Sam blinks hard. "I love you."
Warm hands come to rest on his shoulders and slide down his arms. Gabriel takes the halo from Sam's hands and lays it aside on the bed. Sam's heart plummets. "I'm not sending you away," Gabriel tells him, breath warm against the side of Sam's neck. "I would never send you away. How could you ever think...?"
Sam bites his lip against the words. He doesn't want this to go on out of pity.
"Sam, Samuel," Gabriel whispers and kisses his skin. His voice shakes slightly. "Tell me, please."
"I'm not in the box," the words leave Sam in a rush. "You haven't marked me. You never say... and you lied to me. You didn't trust me with something important."
Gabriel's forehead rests again his shoulder. He shifts behind Sam, sliding up onto the bed behind him. His hands shift on Sam's but don't leave him. "The box... Sam, the things in the box are things I've lost. Things I regret. I will never regret you, even if I lose you."
"Oh," Sam says the sound leaves him in a rush. He's feels a little foolish now. Dean would say he's being a giant girl.
"I didn't know you felt..." Gabriel shakes his head against his shoulder. "I should have been paying more attention to you, Sam. I'm sorry. I never wanted you to doubt that I want you, or your place with me."
Warm fingers trail up his arms and down over his back. They curl around the bottom of his shirt pushing it up. "Why didn't you tell me about Heaven?"
Gabriel sighs. "I have been going to Heaven, somewhat. I'm not... I'm not always welcome. I'm a Trickster, I'm Loki, I'm Coyote. I'm being a intermediary between Heaven and the remaining Gods. The halo," he pauses and kisses Sam's throat again. His hand settles against the small of Sam's back. "That halo belonged to the Messenger, to an angel that never doubted, that never loved any but his brothers and his Father above all."
"It still feels like you," Sam tells him. "Like your grace when it wraps around me." He turns to face Gabriel, hand coming up to touch Gabriel's face.
"Probably only to you; you love me," Gabriel says, but he smiles like Sam's given him the world.
Sam can't help but smile back. "I do love you. You know that."
Gabriel nods, tucking his hand in the waistband of Sam's jeans. It feels so warm against Sam's skin. "I do." He leans in and kisses Sam. Tenderly and gently at first, then deeper, tongue swiping against Sam's. He pulls away with a soft bite to Sam's lips. A shudder of pleasure runs up Sam's back. "Sam, do you want me to mark you?"
"Yes," Sam says. He doesn't have to think about, because he has before. And he wants that so very much. He shifts closer to Gabriel and rests their foreheads together. "Since before we won."
With his free hand, Gabriel frames Sam's face. "Would have thought you'd have enough of people marking and trying to own you." He tries to make it a joke, his lips twisting into a smile.
Sam does laugh and kisses Gabriel briefly. "Not if it's you and not since I know you'll belong to me just as much."
"Someone's been talking to Castiel," Gabriel hums, sounding a little annoyed.
"To Dean actually," Sam says, looping his arms around Gabriel's shoulder. "But I want it Gabriel. If you do."
Gabriel closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them there's a pin prick of light in the center. It grows as Sam watches. "I've wanted to since the moment I first saw you," it's almost a growl. He kisses Sam again, hard and hungry. It's all teeth and tongue, like Gabriel's trying to devour him.
Sam gives back as good as he gets, pressing hard against Gabriel. The hand on his hip grows from warm to hot but fuck it feels good. So damn good. "Gabriel," he moans into his mouth.
"Mine," Gabriel growls, then says something in Enochian that rattles the windows. Then bites down on Sam's shoulder.
A hot rush of pleasure and pain takes over Sam. Gabriel's hand is burning into his skin, his soul. He moans and whimpers, arching with it, gasping for air. His vision goes white and he comes untouched in his jeans. He shudders once more, and the world dips into darkness.
When he comes back to himself, Gabriel is lying across his chest. Tracing symbols onto his now bare skin. Sam doesn't remember when that happened, but he can't bring himself to care. His hip feels slightly sore and he brings his hand down to touch it. He's marked as Gabriel's, and he smiles.
"Hey Sammy," Gabriel says, lifting his head.
Sam grins wider. "Hey, yourself."
Gabriel presses his hand over Sam's. "Never doubt I love you." And Sam can feel it, how much Gabriel loves him, how much his soul and grace reach for him, rejoices in his. "Even if I don't say it."
"Just so long as you never doubt me," Sam promises.
That gets Sam a long tender wet kiss, and Gabriel doesn't pull back until Sam's lips are red and swollen. "Never have."
Sam cards his fingers through Gabriel's hair. "Now about those dust bunnies, I think they're alive."
Gabriel shakes with laughter, and Sam basks in the sound.
Rating: R
Pairing: Gabriel/Sam
Warnings: minor character spoilers for 5x19, post apocalypse
Word Count: 2981
Betas: ameonna1 and sweetsyren
A/N: This is the fic otherwise known as the "Cleaning fic".
Summary: The apocalypse is over and Sam is cleaning.
Sam's cleaning when he finds the box shoved under the bed, covered in a thick layer of dust. It's just a box, a wooden box, forgotten and surrounded by dust bunnies that Sam's sure are going to start talking to him.
But as he pulls it out, his fingers leaving marks in the heavy dust, he hesitates. Because that box was shoved back there to be forgotten.
If someone had told Sam a year ago... even a few months ago that the Archangel Gabriel, the Trickster, had a house by rocky stretch of coast Sam would have laughed. But Sam's been living in the house for a week now and it makes him smile more than laugh. It's very... Gabriel.
It's not grand and showy, and you could drive by it without a second glance. Sam likes it though. The master bedroom he shares with Gabriel is just the right size and the kitchen is laid out so they can both move around without tripping over each other.
So yeah, Sam likes Gabriel's house. He likes it better when Gabriel's there, which isn't often. There's Heaven to put in order and Sam's supposed to be resting... healing. His leg gives him trouble and sometimes the stairs seem to take forever.
Dean's off doing the same with Castiel though Sam suspects Castiel doesn't have to leave Dean's side as often. And if Sam's honest with himself, something he's trying more often, it stings, it hurts, that he and Dean are healing miles - states - apart from each other. They talk every day but Sam's still further east than Dean's ever cared to go and Dean's still at Bobby's. And well, Sam guesses the place is Dean's now.
When Gabriel brought him to the house, the Archangel and former Trickster had almost seemed worried. Like Sam would find the place lacking. But Sam likes it. The mantle is covered in things Gabriel must have collected over the years. Offerings left to him maybe? Gifts from other pagan gods?
It had been clear that Gabriel hadn't been there in awhile. Dust covered everything and the house smelled musty, disused. Gabriel had shrugged it off. "I get around, you know? Not a lot of time to kick back lately," he'd told Sam with a grin.
He'd started to snap his fingers, but Sam had put his hand over Gabriel's. "Nah, it'll give me something to do."
"You're supposed to be resting," Gabriel had sighed, but he'd twined his fingers with Sam's and nuzzled his throat. Gabriel was very tactile, more so when they were alone. Not that Sam minded at all.
Sam had smiled at him. "Hey, compared to stopping the Apocalypse, defeating the devil, and convincing Heaven that free will is a good thing? Cleaning is resting."
So Sam's been cleaning. He can only do so much sometimes before his leg bothers him and he's still trying to shake off the exhaustion that's plagued him for what feels like years. Dean's got it worse, he knows, so he doesn't complain. Not to Dean and not to Gabriel.
Gabriel always knows though, and tells him to stop pushing himself so hard. And that it doesn't matter if some of the rooms stay dusty or the bathrooms have mildew. Sam likes it though, it makes him feel... settled.
But that's how he winds up on the floor of the master bedroom, holding a dusty wooden box. There's not a lock on it, just an old metal latch.
"It's just a box. Not a hex box, nothing carved into it." he says out loud, but somehow it feels wrong that his fingers have disturbed the dust. He feels like his intruded on something. Invaded some little private piece of Gabriel that he's not supposed to see.
"Or maybe it's just old porn," Sam laughs at himself. He traces out Gabriel's name in the dust. The box is old, but plain, and as Sam turns it in his hands he can't find any nails or dove tails where the woods been fitted together. It's as if someone took a solid block of wood and hollowed it out. There aren't hinges but leather runs across the top of the box and down the back.
Sam thinks it's beautiful. He should put it back under the bed he tells himself, as he runs his finger over the latch. Put it back with the dust bunnies and pretend he hadn't found it. It doesn't matter what's in it. He wipes the dust and Gabriel's name with his sleeve.
Now he can see there is something carved into the lid, the lines and marks that make up Gabriel's name. Gabriel's seal.
"Pandora's box," Sam murmurs. A quiet seems to have fallen over the house, over the bedroom. All the windows are open but even the ocean seems to hushed, far away. "Or something like it."
He traces the lines of Gabriel's seal. His leg is starting to ache. So Sam gets to his feet and lifts the box to the bed, with it's soft mattress and even softer sheets. He places the box in the center of the bed and sits next to it, stretching out his aching leg. The seal is there beckoning to him like Gabriel himself does. That pull he feels when Gabriel is near.
He'll just ask Gabriel about it when he gets back. If Gabriel doesn't want to tell him then it's fine, he's allowed to have his secrets. Just like Sam has his. Like that he knows now what the hand print on Dean's shoulder means, what that makes Dean to Castiel, and Castiel to Dean.
And the secret of just how much it aches in Sam's chest that he doesn't bear his own hand print.
"Just leave it Sam," he whispers. A breeze blows through the window and he traces Gabriel's seal again. "Just leave it be."
But Sam's never been good at leaving things be.
He undoes the latch, then slowly lifts the lid of the box.
Nothing happens.
No dark smoke escapes, no blinding light, not even a sound. The box isn't empty though, and Sam looks at the objects sitting in the box. His fingers rest on either side of it and he wonders why Gabriel would hide these things away.
There's a small sliver skull, gleaming and polished though it must have sat in the box for who knows how long. Sam touches it and it feels icy cold under his finger tips. "Kali," he murmurs. He remembers the woman, Goddess from the hotel months ago. The way she looked at Gabriel. And some how he knows this was... is from her.
A lovers token.
Near the skull is a scalloped shell, it feels normal when Sam lifts it up and turns it over in his fingers. It gleams in the sun light, seeming to change colors as he turns it. He returns it to the box. Then looks curiously at the feathers that also lie in the box. Two are white, one tipped sliver the other gold. There is a black one tipped in copper. Another is a bright fire-red.
Sam doesn't touch them. He knows what they'd feel like, his fingers have stroked Gabriel's wings and been left tingling but wanting more. Gabriel gasps and pants when Sam touches his wings, and Sam loves that he can drive Gabriel to the brink with nothing but his hand's on the Archangel's wings.
There's a smaller pure black feather tied to a leather cord, strung with colorfully beads. There's a small bird's skull is also attached to the cord, and Sam wonders if perhaps it was worn in someone's hair.
Something at the bottom of the box; under the feathers, skull, shell, and a sprig of mistletoe, is glowing dimly. So dimly that Sam hadn't seen it at first, but now he does. It's golden and flat, resting flush against the wooden bottom of the box.
"What are you?" Sam asks out loud. He reaches into the box and gently pulls it free.
It's a golden disk, light and impossibly thin. It glows dimly, and Sam's fingers tingle as he holds it. He runs his fingers over the flat surface, then over the edge. It's growing hot in his hands but the burning sensation almost feels good. The feeling is so close to the feel of Gabriel's hands and wings against his skin, to the white hot something that washes over him when Gabriel comes.
All of sudden Sam knows what he's holding and his breath catches in his throat. "It's a halo," he tells the empty room, the birds outside, the silent fan that turns above the bed. "It's Gabriel's halo."
Sam's hands tremble with something that has nothing to do with the burning tingle. Gabriel's halo was sitting dim and forgotten at the bottom of a old dusty box. Sam doesn't know how he's seeing it or touching it, he just knows that it shouldn't be here. "If Gabriel's been going to Heaven then... Wouldn't he need this?"
Gabriel has been lying to him. For almost two weeks Gabriel has been lying. Sam inhales sharply and tells himself that it shouldn't hurt this much. Gabriel lied, Gabriel cheated, he'd been a Trickster. But sitting on the bed in a empty house, because Gabriel had left again with mention of Heaven needing him, it does hurt. Almost as much as the lack of mark on his skin.
The halo glows slightly brighter in his hands, and he can't help but run his fingers over it. A tingling shock travels up his arm, followed by a warmth that's all Gabriel. Sam's felt that warmth before when Gabriel's inside him, the Archangel's grace twining around him. Sam's hands shake, and he wants to put it back in the box, shove the box back under the bed and pretend he didn't find it. Because this is big. This is... this is important. The box is important. Things Gabriel wanted to keep, to treasure but didn't want to display. Things he wanted to hide away from prying eyes. Sam suddenly knows that the feathers belong to Gabriel's brothers, the other Archangels. To Lucifer - Morningstar.
His breath comes out in a shaky exhale.
He hears the sound of wings and he knows he should move. He should put the halo back, let go of the burning, tingling warmth that he wants to press into his skin. Against his heart and let it burn into his skin. There are the soft sounds of Gabriel's boots on the stairs, in the hallway. He hasn't called out for Sam, like he normally does.
Sam doesn't move, just holds the halo tighter, the edges cutting into his fingers. It flares up for a moment then dims. Sam doesn't look up, he can't. God, he can't.
He knows Gabriel is in the room, standing by the door. The slight shift of the floor boards, the stillness of the room that makes Sam want to choke. Slowly he makes his fingers unclench from the halo but he doesn't put it down. If he lets go of it he's afraid...
"I was cleaning under the bed," Sam says his voice sounding too ragged, too loud. "I wasn't... I wasn't trying to be nosy. I wasn't trying to pry."
It's a weak excuse, Sam knows. He still pried, he still opened the box.
Gabriel doesn't speak and if he moves Sam can't hear it.
"I shouldn't have opened the box. I'm sorry," he says. It doesn't make up for the invasion. Gabriel trusted him and Sam let him down. "I... you could have told me. If you weren't going up to Heaven... if..." Sam trails off.
He can't even hear Gabriel breathe, not that Gabriel needs to. The only sign that the angel is still in the room is the sound of fabric against fabric. There's nothing of his in the box, the thought comes like a revelation. Like ice in his stomach, that even the warmth of the halo can't melt. He doesn't wear Gabriel's mark. He's not important enough to be added to this box.
"Sam," Gabriel starts, soft and low.
"Don't send me away," Sam whispers and hates himself for it. He shouldn't beg, he's a Winchester, he's a grown man. He can take rejection, even if it's Gabriel. "Please."
There's silence behind him.
Sam blinks hard. "I love you."
Warm hands come to rest on his shoulders and slide down his arms. Gabriel takes the halo from Sam's hands and lays it aside on the bed. Sam's heart plummets. "I'm not sending you away," Gabriel tells him, breath warm against the side of Sam's neck. "I would never send you away. How could you ever think...?"
Sam bites his lip against the words. He doesn't want this to go on out of pity.
"Sam, Samuel," Gabriel whispers and kisses his skin. His voice shakes slightly. "Tell me, please."
"I'm not in the box," the words leave Sam in a rush. "You haven't marked me. You never say... and you lied to me. You didn't trust me with something important."
Gabriel's forehead rests again his shoulder. He shifts behind Sam, sliding up onto the bed behind him. His hands shift on Sam's but don't leave him. "The box... Sam, the things in the box are things I've lost. Things I regret. I will never regret you, even if I lose you."
"Oh," Sam says the sound leaves him in a rush. He's feels a little foolish now. Dean would say he's being a giant girl.
"I didn't know you felt..." Gabriel shakes his head against his shoulder. "I should have been paying more attention to you, Sam. I'm sorry. I never wanted you to doubt that I want you, or your place with me."
Warm fingers trail up his arms and down over his back. They curl around the bottom of his shirt pushing it up. "Why didn't you tell me about Heaven?"
Gabriel sighs. "I have been going to Heaven, somewhat. I'm not... I'm not always welcome. I'm a Trickster, I'm Loki, I'm Coyote. I'm being a intermediary between Heaven and the remaining Gods. The halo," he pauses and kisses Sam's throat again. His hand settles against the small of Sam's back. "That halo belonged to the Messenger, to an angel that never doubted, that never loved any but his brothers and his Father above all."
"It still feels like you," Sam tells him. "Like your grace when it wraps around me." He turns to face Gabriel, hand coming up to touch Gabriel's face.
"Probably only to you; you love me," Gabriel says, but he smiles like Sam's given him the world.
Sam can't help but smile back. "I do love you. You know that."
Gabriel nods, tucking his hand in the waistband of Sam's jeans. It feels so warm against Sam's skin. "I do." He leans in and kisses Sam. Tenderly and gently at first, then deeper, tongue swiping against Sam's. He pulls away with a soft bite to Sam's lips. A shudder of pleasure runs up Sam's back. "Sam, do you want me to mark you?"
"Yes," Sam says. He doesn't have to think about, because he has before. And he wants that so very much. He shifts closer to Gabriel and rests their foreheads together. "Since before we won."
With his free hand, Gabriel frames Sam's face. "Would have thought you'd have enough of people marking and trying to own you." He tries to make it a joke, his lips twisting into a smile.
Sam does laugh and kisses Gabriel briefly. "Not if it's you and not since I know you'll belong to me just as much."
"Someone's been talking to Castiel," Gabriel hums, sounding a little annoyed.
"To Dean actually," Sam says, looping his arms around Gabriel's shoulder. "But I want it Gabriel. If you do."
Gabriel closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them there's a pin prick of light in the center. It grows as Sam watches. "I've wanted to since the moment I first saw you," it's almost a growl. He kisses Sam again, hard and hungry. It's all teeth and tongue, like Gabriel's trying to devour him.
Sam gives back as good as he gets, pressing hard against Gabriel. The hand on his hip grows from warm to hot but fuck it feels good. So damn good. "Gabriel," he moans into his mouth.
"Mine," Gabriel growls, then says something in Enochian that rattles the windows. Then bites down on Sam's shoulder.
A hot rush of pleasure and pain takes over Sam. Gabriel's hand is burning into his skin, his soul. He moans and whimpers, arching with it, gasping for air. His vision goes white and he comes untouched in his jeans. He shudders once more, and the world dips into darkness.
When he comes back to himself, Gabriel is lying across his chest. Tracing symbols onto his now bare skin. Sam doesn't remember when that happened, but he can't bring himself to care. His hip feels slightly sore and he brings his hand down to touch it. He's marked as Gabriel's, and he smiles.
"Hey Sammy," Gabriel says, lifting his head.
Sam grins wider. "Hey, yourself."
Gabriel presses his hand over Sam's. "Never doubt I love you." And Sam can feel it, how much Gabriel loves him, how much his soul and grace reach for him, rejoices in his. "Even if I don't say it."
"Just so long as you never doubt me," Sam promises.
That gets Sam a long tender wet kiss, and Gabriel doesn't pull back until Sam's lips are red and swollen. "Never have."
Sam cards his fingers through Gabriel's hair. "Now about those dust bunnies, I think they're alive."
Gabriel shakes with laughter, and Sam basks in the sound.