Side effect (Sam/Gabriel, background Dean/Cas, wings) 3janice_lesterMay 12 2011, 07:02:55 UTC
“I think you’re missing the point. I can’t even fit these wings into my clothes. Where will I put thirty feet of wingspan? I won’t even fit in the Impala! And, fuck, I’m going to have to sleep on my stomach for the rest of my life, aren’t I?”
“Oh,” Gabriel said.
Sam blinked. “Oh? Oh?”
“Can it, lovebirds,” came Dean’s sleepy-grouchy voice, “I’m trying to sleep. Don’t need to hear you moaning and groaning.”
“Go back to sleep,” Gabriel ordered, in that tone that said there was Grace behind it. “We aren’t having sex.”
Dean’s voice was suddenly childish, sweetly eager to please. “Okay. Goodnight.” And just like that he was snoring again.
“You scare me sometimes, Gabe.”
“Well, I am an archangel. Now, where were we?” He pulled, ever so gently, on a feather, and for a delicious instant Sam couldn’t remember a damn thing they’d been discussing. “Oh, right. You appear to be labouring under a misapprehension regarding your wings. They aren’t going to cause you problems because they won’t be there all the time.”
“They’re not permanent?”
“Of course they’re permanent. But, once you have proper control, you’ll be able to put them away when you’re not using them. You know, like Cas and I do.”
“Put them away where, exactly? In another dimension or something?”
“I don’t suppose that degree you didn’t finish was in mathematics?”
“No, I was pre-law.”
“Well, in that case, let’s just say you’ll be able to fold them away into a pocket dimension, and retrieve them at will. You’ll probably want to take off some clothing before you try the retrieval, though, or you’re going to be ripping a lot of seams.”
“So, how exactly-”
“I’ll teach you. But not tonight.” He moved, somehow managing not to crush the wing on that side as he craned forward to kiss Sam’s cheek. “Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll knock you into dreamland with my magic ET fingers?”
The suggestion of sleep made Sam yawn. “You promise not to molest me in my sleep?”
“Sure thing, kid. I’ll wake you up so you can molest me back.”
Sam was too tired to point out how creepy that sounds, so he just lay down on his belly, allowed Gabriel to help tuck his wings into a more compact arrangement. Then there were fingertips pressed to his forehead, and then nothing.
Side effect (Sam/Gabriel, background Dean/Cas, wings) 4janice_lesterMay 12 2011, 07:04:15 UTC
Learning to fly was a piece of cake. It was as if all those dreams of flying he used to get as a kid, where he soared over the school yard or circled the tops of skyscrapers, were the result of instincts, memories of flying buried deep in his genes or reaching him from some unknown past lives. Because flapping his wings and flying was familiar as well as easy. Deja vu and everything. He laughed and swooped and really hoped Gabriel had done what he said he’d do and shielded SuperSam from view of any passing people down below, because otherwise he was easily making enough of a spectacle to land himself on the six o’clock news. It was a pity Gabe couldn’t come flying with him, but there was that whole matter of his wings being part of his True Form and his True Form being likely to burn out mere mortals’ eyes.
Learning to magic his wings away was much much much more difficult. And frustrating. And annoying. And irritating. And-
“Dude, you look constipated. Shall I go buy some prune juice or something?”
“I. Am. Concentrating,” Sam said, through gritted teeth.
Gabriel clucked his tongue. “But you shouldn’t have to concentrate. You should just-do it.”
“Do, or do not,” Dean chimed in, doing his best Yoda imitation, “there is no try.”
“Screw you both,” Sam complained, and stormed off.
Well, he tried to storm off, only his wings got stuck in the doorway because he hadn’t taken the time to fold them up painfully small.
The impact hurt, the kind of hurt too big to permit a guy the necessary breath for swearing.
“Perhaps if we reviewed the math-” Gabe began, and Sam felt compelled to bang his head against the doorframe for good measure. “Okay, forget I spoke. Let’s just sit around twiddling our conveniently opposable thumbs, shall we?”
“Perhaps Cas could explain it better?” Dean suggested. Sam was pretty sure he did it just to piss off Gabriel, but, whatever, he’d said the name and presently came the flutter of wings.
“Hello, Dean. Sam. Brother. What seems to be the-oh.”
It was, Sam found, extremely disconcerting to be objectified for a piece of anatomy your species wasn’t supposed to have. He untangled himself from the doorway with an effort, and turned back into the room. “Hi, Cas. Any tips for putting these things away?” His feathers rustled in their impatience to be moved somewhere they’d be safe from evil door frames.
Castiel looked at Gabriel. “Did you explain about the mathematical underpinnings of-”
“Of course. I think he understood about six words.”
Cas frowned, and they both stood there peering at Sam like he was some distressingly information-proof schoolboy. “When your wings first began to grow, where did it feel as if they were coming from?”
Sam ran a hand through his hair and tried to remember anything from that period besides the pain. “Um, from inside me? Like my spine had grown these extra bits and was pushing them out through my back?”
“That’s odd,” Gabe said. “No wonder he complained so much! I thought he was just being a big baby!”
“Perhaps if you were to flex your spine, then, and visualise the wings withdrawing smoothly into it, that would open the necessary micro-portal?”
So Sam stood there, unconvinced but obedient, stretched his arms up towards the ceiling, made his back curl, and pictured his wings sliding smoothly out of sight inside him. And gasped as he felt them twitch in an attempt to do just that.
“Nice one, little bro,” Gabriel said, slapping Castiel’s shoulder. “You’re really learning how to talk to these clowns.”
“Sam and Dean are not professional comic entertainers, Gabriel.”
There was an odd pause while everyone tried to work out whether Castiel just told a joke or completely missed the point. But, not for the first time, it proved impossible to tell, so Sam just shrugged and had another go at making his wings retract.
And they did retract, so suddenly that he overbalanced as his centre of gravity shifted and fell face-first for the floor.
Side effect (Sam/Gabriel, background Dean/Cas, wings) 5/5janice_lesterMay 12 2011, 07:05:10 UTC
“Go on, get your wings out,” Gabriel said, waggling his eyebrows. “Go on, Sammy-boy. You know you want to.”
So Sam took off his jacket and shirt, concentrated a moment, leaned forward against the soon-to-be extra weight, and let his wings slide back into this reality.
“Oh, baby,” Gabriel sighed, stepping closer. “They truly are magnificent. Wrap them around me?”
So Sam pulled Gabe in close with arms and wings, kissed him and enfolded and embraced him. And Gabe sighed in pleasure and stroked at his feathers with gentle, knowing fingers, sending delicious chills up Sam’s spine and tempting him to pounce.
“Let me blow you?” Gabe murmured abruptly.
Sam blinked. Well, his attitude had sure changed. “Okay. Should I keep the wings out?”
“Oh, please, yes.”
“You’re in love with my wings, aren’t you?” Sam joked.
“Oh,” Gabriel said.
Sam blinked. “Oh? Oh?”
“Can it, lovebirds,” came Dean’s sleepy-grouchy voice, “I’m trying to sleep. Don’t need to hear you moaning and groaning.”
“Go back to sleep,” Gabriel ordered, in that tone that said there was Grace behind it. “We aren’t having sex.”
Dean’s voice was suddenly childish, sweetly eager to please. “Okay. Goodnight.” And just like that he was snoring again.
“You scare me sometimes, Gabe.”
“Well, I am an archangel. Now, where were we?” He pulled, ever so gently, on a feather, and for a delicious instant Sam couldn’t remember a damn thing they’d been discussing. “Oh, right. You appear to be labouring under a misapprehension regarding your wings. They aren’t going to cause you problems because they won’t be there all the time.”
“They’re not permanent?”
“Of course they’re permanent. But, once you have proper control, you’ll be able to put them away when you’re not using them. You know, like Cas and I do.”
“Put them away where, exactly? In another dimension or something?”
“I don’t suppose that degree you didn’t finish was in mathematics?”
“No, I was pre-law.”
“Well, in that case, let’s just say you’ll be able to fold them away into a pocket dimension, and retrieve them at will. You’ll probably want to take off some clothing before you try the retrieval, though, or you’re going to be ripping a lot of seams.”
“So, how exactly-”
“I’ll teach you. But not tonight.” He moved, somehow managing not to crush the wing on that side as he craned forward to kiss Sam’s cheek. “Why don’t you get comfortable, and I’ll knock you into dreamland with my magic ET fingers?”
The suggestion of sleep made Sam yawn. “You promise not to molest me in my sleep?”
“Sure thing, kid. I’ll wake you up so you can molest me back.”
Sam was too tired to point out how creepy that sounds, so he just lay down on his belly, allowed Gabriel to help tuck his wings into a more compact arrangement. Then there were fingertips pressed to his forehead, and then nothing.
***
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Learning to magic his wings away was much much much more difficult. And frustrating. And annoying. And irritating. And-
“Dude, you look constipated. Shall I go buy some prune juice or something?”
“I. Am. Concentrating,” Sam said, through gritted teeth.
Gabriel clucked his tongue. “But you shouldn’t have to concentrate. You should just-do it.”
“Do, or do not,” Dean chimed in, doing his best Yoda imitation, “there is no try.”
“Screw you both,” Sam complained, and stormed off.
Well, he tried to storm off, only his wings got stuck in the doorway because he hadn’t taken the time to fold them up painfully small.
The impact hurt, the kind of hurt too big to permit a guy the necessary breath for swearing.
“Perhaps if we reviewed the math-” Gabe began, and Sam felt compelled to bang his head against the doorframe for good measure. “Okay, forget I spoke. Let’s just sit around twiddling our conveniently opposable thumbs, shall we?”
“Perhaps Cas could explain it better?” Dean suggested. Sam was pretty sure he did it just to piss off Gabriel, but, whatever, he’d said the name and presently came the flutter of wings.
“Hello, Dean. Sam. Brother. What seems to be the-oh.”
“I know,” sighed Gabriel. “Beautiful, aren’t they?”
It was, Sam found, extremely disconcerting to be objectified for a piece of anatomy your species wasn’t supposed to have. He untangled himself from the doorway with an effort, and turned back into the room. “Hi, Cas. Any tips for putting these things away?” His feathers rustled in their impatience to be moved somewhere they’d be safe from evil door frames.
Castiel looked at Gabriel. “Did you explain about the mathematical underpinnings of-”
“Of course. I think he understood about six words.”
Cas frowned, and they both stood there peering at Sam like he was some distressingly information-proof schoolboy. “When your wings first began to grow, where did it feel as if they were coming from?”
Sam ran a hand through his hair and tried to remember anything from that period besides the pain. “Um, from inside me? Like my spine had grown these extra bits and was pushing them out through my back?”
“That’s odd,” Gabe said. “No wonder he complained so much! I thought he was just being a big baby!”
“Perhaps if you were to flex your spine, then, and visualise the wings withdrawing smoothly into it, that would open the necessary micro-portal?”
So Sam stood there, unconvinced but obedient, stretched his arms up towards the ceiling, made his back curl, and pictured his wings sliding smoothly out of sight inside him. And gasped as he felt them twitch in an attempt to do just that.
“Nice one, little bro,” Gabriel said, slapping Castiel’s shoulder. “You’re really learning how to talk to these clowns.”
“Sam and Dean are not professional comic entertainers, Gabriel.”
There was an odd pause while everyone tried to work out whether Castiel just told a joke or completely missed the point. But, not for the first time, it proved impossible to tell, so Sam just shrugged and had another go at making his wings retract.
And they did retract, so suddenly that he overbalanced as his centre of gravity shifted and fell face-first for the floor.
Gabriel was there to catch him.
***
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So Sam took off his jacket and shirt, concentrated a moment, leaned forward against the soon-to-be extra weight, and let his wings slide back into this reality.
“Oh, baby,” Gabriel sighed, stepping closer. “They truly are magnificent. Wrap them around me?”
So Sam pulled Gabe in close with arms and wings, kissed him and enfolded and embraced him. And Gabe sighed in pleasure and stroked at his feathers with gentle, knowing fingers, sending delicious chills up Sam’s spine and tempting him to pounce.
“Let me blow you?” Gabe murmured abruptly.
Sam blinked. Well, his attitude had sure changed. “Okay. Should I keep the wings out?”
“Oh, please, yes.”
“You’re in love with my wings, aren’t you?” Sam joked.
There was an awkward silence.
“So, about that blowjob?”
***END***
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