SPN: What Do You Get the Archangel Who Has Everything? [T]
Fandom:
Supernatural
Title:
What Do You Get the Archangel Who Has Everything?
In which Sam prepares to celebrate St. Gabriel's Day.
Author:
lt_indigo
Pairing(s):
Sabriel
Warning(s):
none
Disclamer:
Never mine.
Word count:
1,956
Author's note:
Picks up six months after ' Peace Offerings'.
Sam had spent the best part of six months watching an archangel flit in and out of their lives, acting whenever a whim took him. Sam had watched him smile and joke and prank and tease Castiel just a little. Sam had watched his eyes flash with righteous anger each time he saw an injustice. Sam had even seen him fight once, as deadly with his blade as Castiel and twice as terrifying for it.
And Sam had seen him flirt with humans of every shape and size, every colour and creed. Including Dean, who patently wasn’t interested. Not in Gabriel, anyway. And wasn’t that a terrifying thought - Dean and Gabriel in the same room for any length of time was scary enough, between the bitchy one-liners and the pranks: Dean and Gabriel as a couple would be cataclysmic. Lucifer wouldn’t need his damn apocalypse.
But he would always bounce back to Sam, all sparkles and smiles and smooth words. And Sam just couldn’t work out what Gabriel liked, what would impress Gabriel. What Sam should do for Gabriel’s ‘birthday’. He had kind of accidentally promised himself, after all, and he wanted to do it right. Because Gabriel had come through for them on more than one occasion, had saved Dean from Zachariah, had yoinked Cas back from 1978 and kept him away from Heaven’s clutches while he healed, and Sam strongly suspected that Gabriel was the one responsible for the fact that Lucifer hadn’t been dream-stalking him recently.
But it wasn’t just gratitude making Sam think he should give it up, because that made him no better than a hooker; Sam actually genuinely liked Gabriel. When he wasn’t being completely obnoxious, when he cast off ‘Loki’, he was funny and thoughtful, and he seemed to complete their little family. And seeing him did funny things to Sam’s stomach.
The weirdest thing was that whenever they were alone, Gabriel was a total gentleman. Not once had he pushed Sam to do anything beyond what he was willing to give. He hadn’t even asked anything of Sam, beyond the companionship that Sam was more than willing to give to a lonely angel. And yet Sam’s mind would drift off and imagine what Gabriel might be like as a lover. Which was weird, what with him being straight and all, but he figured that gender had very little to do with anything when it came to angels, and what the hell did it matter what Gabriel’s vessel was hiding under those pants anyway? It was Gabriel that was interesting, not his vessel. Who Sam tried not to think about too much, because that was just weird and creepy and would give him flashbacks to conversations with Ruby about who her meat suits were. Gabriel at least had a conscience of sorts, and to be honest had probably fried the vessel’s brain millennia ago; he probably wasn’t forcing a living being into anything he didn’t want to do.
Dean had made a fuss when Sam disappeared into the kitchen, moaning that Sam was being a girl and that it was a waste of time for him to make a cake for someone who could just snap one into existence, and they could be doing much better things like working out a way to put Lucifer on ice. Bobby just rolled his eyes, smacked Dean soundly on the back of the head and told him firmly that if Sam wanted to keep their most powerful ally happy, then he shouldn’t be moaning about it. Whether they were doing more for Gabriel’s six-hundred-and-change-millionth birthday than they had for his thirty-first, just two months previous, or not. Dean grumbled that he preferred it before Gabriel had first come home, back when Bobby was sitting in the chair feeling sorry for himself, and Dean could dodge out of the way.
Betty Crocker didn’t let Sam down, and soon the cake was cooling under Castiel’s watchful gaze (Sam didn’t trust Dean with it, no matter what opinion he expressed about cake), Sam could think about what to wear. None of his meticulous observations of Gabriel gave him any clues, because Gabriel simply didn’t seem to care what anyone looked like or wore. Which meant it was pretty much impossible to work out which shirt he should wear.
“Jeez, princess, wear the blue one,” Dean said with an aggrieved sigh from the doorway of their room, jerking Sam back from wherever his mind was at.
“You’ve been staring at your clothes for fifteen minutes straight, dude,” Dean added. “It’s sad. And the blue, um, looksgoodonyou.”
Sam smirked at his brother’s admission. “Aww, Dean, it almost sounds like you care.”
Dean shifted uncomfortably, self-consciously, then snorted and threw at him: “You want me to get Cas braid your hair?”
Sam frowned at him. “Cas?”
Dean shrugged. “Dude’s been a chick. Hey, do you reckon your pet archangel’s ever been a chick? Would explain that hair.”
Sam rolled his eyes as he shrugged on the blue shirt.
“Make sure you hang a tie on the door if you put out,” Dean said, his eyes twinkling as he turned and left.
.oOo.
Gabriel appeared as Sam was putting the finishing touches on the cake, actually decorating it this time. Bobby had had an odd look on his face when he realised that Sam was using more than just a cake tin from Karen’s old things, but had dismissed it with a shrug and headed out, declaring that there was no damn way he was sticking around to witness whatever debauchery Sam was bringing to his house. Which Sam felt was kind of unfair really, because even he didn’t know whether there would be any debauchery yet. And that was kind of the reason he hadn’t complained when Dean and Cas hadn’t popped off anywhere.
“Hey, Gabriel? Since you’ve been around since… forever… why’ve you got a birthday?”
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s cheerful but impertinent question.
“Catholicism,” he heard Gabriel reply cheerfully. “See, some humans are completely mental and actually worship me.”
Dean snorted. “Yeah, the ones who haven’t met you.”
Well, at least they were bickering playfully and not plotting each other’s downfall via the medium of pranks. Probably not, anyway.
“So how come Cas doesn’t get a special day? Because he’s all kinds of awesome.”
“Michaelmas, on September twenty-ninth, celebrates the contributions of all the angels,” Cas put in quietly.
“And October second is Guardian Angels’ Day,” Gabriel added. “I reckon you fall into that these days, little bro.”
“Screw that, Cas,” Dean said, just as Sam came to the door to peer out and work out exactly what the hell Dean and Gabriel were up to. Because if they were going to start tag-teaming Cas then he was stepping in. Gabriel teasing his little brother was fine. Dean teasing his… whatever the hell Cas was to him, that was fine too. But them teasing together? Cas would just be too baffled and flee for an undetermined time. Probably until Dean grovelled. Abjectly. Or until Lucifer decided to take a piece out of their asses. But everything looked civil enough to Sam: Cas and Dean were sat on the sofa, and Gabriel appeared to have created himself a ridiculously comfy-looking lounger opposite.
“If Short Round over there gets his own day, then you sure as shit are going to get one too.” There was a brief pause before Dean announced with a flourish:
“September eighteenth.”
Cas gave one of his tiny smiles. “That seems fitting.”
Sam snorted. “Cas, just claim every Thursday as your birthday and make Dean bake for you every week.”
Gabriel turned gave him a bright, amused smile, while Dean simply rolled his eyes. At least that reaction meant he knew what Sam had meant, which meant he had done his homework on Cas at some point.
“I was one of many angels of Thursday, before my fall,” Cas said. “It continues to be a special day for me, but raising Dean was the most significant Thursday of all. I would be pleased to remember it.”
Gabriel flapped his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Enough about Cas: today is my day. Can I have my cake and my present now?”
Dean smirked and got up from the sofa, reaching his hands towards the ceiling in an indulgent stretch. “C’mon, Cas. That’s our cue to leave.”
Cas frowned. “It is?”
Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him up, grinning. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
Gabriel watched them curiously as Dean dragged Cas out the front door, then looked back to Sam. “What gives?”
Sam felt the flush rise up his neck, and he knew that Gabriel saw it too. The angel’s eyes opened wide as he realised.
“Oh.” His grin softened into an embarrassed smile. “You don’t have to. I know I’ve been teasing, but I would never expect you to do that.”
Sam met his eyes levelly. “But I want to,” he admitted, the words catching in his throat as he realised that he really did want to do this with Gabriel. They had been moving towards it for months, always flirting around the issue, never really looking directly at it until now.
Gabriel gave an exasperated huff. “No, you don’t. And, you know, informed consent is kind of a thing for me.”
Sam kept his gaze, wouldn’t let the angel look away from him. “You can read my mind, right?”
When Gabriel hesitated, he took it as an affirmative answer. “So read it. Tell me I’m lying to you.”
He purposefully remembered each and every time over the last six months he had watched Gabriel when they were out; let Gabriel feel that little knot of jealousy he had felt when Gabriel had flirted with someone else instead of him, and the flare of hope when Gabriel bounced his way back to him. Let him see all the times his mind had wandered while in the shower, imagining the hands on him were Gabriel’s. Showed him how much their time together, whether they were laughing or working, truly meant; how much it warmed his heart to be close to Gabriel.
“Holy crap, Sam!”
Sam took a breath. “Happy birthday?” he offered, before suddenly finding himself backed up and falling against his own bed with a lapful of sneaky archangel grinning down at him.
“So, I seem to remember that you were going to give me a gift I could unwrap?”
Sam frowned, pretending to think about it while desperately trying to play it cool and ignore the guy grinding in his lap.
“Nah, I’m not sure I remember that.”
Gabriel dragged Sam’s head up and kissed him. Soundly. He was all aggression and possessiveness and Sam yielded under him, just gave himself over to the sensation of Gabriel’s mouth moving against his, skilfully pushing at each and every one of Sam’s buttons, biting and licking and clearly enjoying each and every little moan Sam gave up.
“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You need to learn to ask for what you want.”
Sam opened his eyes to find Gabriel looming over him once more, eyeing him like a buffet of all his favourite candies. A sharp twist of his hips informed him that Gabriel was doing that immovable force thing, which sent jolts right through him, right to his dick.
“I want you,” he ground out. “I don’t want you making out with other people. I want you here, with me and only me.”
“Didn’t expect that to be so easy,” Gabriel remarked. But his smile was soft and reached his eyes. “Can do. Just one question: where do our clothes factor into this equation?”
Instead of answering, Sam pulled him back down into another scorching kiss.
Sam had spent the best part of six months watching an archangel flit in and out of their lives, acting whenever a whim took him. Sam had watched him smile and joke and prank and tease Castiel just a little. Sam had watched his eyes flash with righteous anger each time he saw an injustice. Sam had even seen him fight once, as deadly with his blade as Castiel and twice as terrifying for it.
And Sam had seen him flirt with humans of every shape and size, every colour and creed. Including Dean, who patently wasn’t interested. Not in Gabriel, anyway. And wasn’t that a terrifying thought - Dean and Gabriel in the same room for any length of time was scary enough, between the bitchy one-liners and the pranks: Dean and Gabriel as a couple would be cataclysmic. Lucifer wouldn’t need his damn apocalypse.
But he would always bounce back to Sam, all sparkles and smiles and smooth words. And Sam just couldn’t work out what Gabriel liked, what would impress Gabriel. What Sam should do for Gabriel’s ‘birthday’. He had kind of accidentally promised himself, after all, and he wanted to do it right. Because Gabriel had come through for them on more than one occasion, had saved Dean from Zachariah, had yoinked Cas back from 1978 and kept him away from Heaven’s clutches while he healed, and Sam strongly suspected that Gabriel was the one responsible for the fact that Lucifer hadn’t been dream-stalking him recently.
But it wasn’t just gratitude making Sam think he should give it up, because that made him no better than a hooker; Sam actually genuinely liked Gabriel. When he wasn’t being completely obnoxious, when he cast off ‘Loki’, he was funny and thoughtful, and he seemed to complete their little family. And seeing him did funny things to Sam’s stomach.
The weirdest thing was that whenever they were alone, Gabriel was a total gentleman. Not once had he pushed Sam to do anything beyond what he was willing to give. He hadn’t even asked anything of Sam, beyond the companionship that Sam was more than willing to give to a lonely angel. And yet Sam’s mind would drift off and imagine what Gabriel might be like as a lover. Which was weird, what with him being straight and all, but he figured that gender had very little to do with anything when it came to angels, and what the hell did it matter what Gabriel’s vessel was hiding under those pants anyway? It was Gabriel that was interesting, not his vessel. Who Sam tried not to think about too much, because that was just weird and creepy and would give him flashbacks to conversations with Ruby about who her meat suits were. Gabriel at least had a conscience of sorts, and to be honest had probably fried the vessel’s brain millennia ago; he probably wasn’t forcing a living being into anything he didn’t want to do.
Dean had made a fuss when Sam disappeared into the kitchen, moaning that Sam was being a girl and that it was a waste of time for him to make a cake for someone who could just snap one into existence, and they could be doing much better things like working out a way to put Lucifer on ice. Bobby just rolled his eyes, smacked Dean soundly on the back of the head and told him firmly that if Sam wanted to keep their most powerful ally happy, then he shouldn’t be moaning about it. Whether they were doing more for Gabriel’s six-hundred-and-change-millionth birthday than they had for his thirty-first, just two months previous, or not. Dean grumbled that he preferred it before Gabriel had first come home, back when Bobby was sitting in the chair feeling sorry for himself, and Dean could dodge out of the way.
Betty Crocker didn’t let Sam down, and soon the cake was cooling under Castiel’s watchful gaze (Sam didn’t trust Dean with it, no matter what opinion he expressed about cake), Sam could think about what to wear. None of his meticulous observations of Gabriel gave him any clues, because Gabriel simply didn’t seem to care what anyone looked like or wore. Which meant it was pretty much impossible to work out which shirt he should wear.
“Jeez, princess, wear the blue one,” Dean said with an aggrieved sigh from the doorway of their room, jerking Sam back from wherever his mind was at.
“You’ve been staring at your clothes for fifteen minutes straight, dude,” Dean added. “It’s sad. And the blue, um, looksgoodonyou.”
Sam smirked at his brother’s admission. “Aww, Dean, it almost sounds like you care.”
Dean shifted uncomfortably, self-consciously, then snorted and threw at him: “You want me to get Cas braid your hair?”
Sam frowned at him. “Cas?”
Dean shrugged. “Dude’s been a chick. Hey, do you reckon your pet archangel’s ever been a chick? Would explain that hair.”
Sam rolled his eyes as he shrugged on the blue shirt.
“Make sure you hang a tie on the door if you put out,” Dean said, his eyes twinkling as he turned and left.
.oOo.
Gabriel appeared as Sam was putting the finishing touches on the cake, actually decorating it this time. Bobby had had an odd look on his face when he realised that Sam was using more than just a cake tin from Karen’s old things, but had dismissed it with a shrug and headed out, declaring that there was no damn way he was sticking around to witness whatever debauchery Sam was bringing to his house. Which Sam felt was kind of unfair really, because even he didn’t know whether there would be any debauchery yet. And that was kind of the reason he hadn’t complained when Dean and Cas hadn’t popped off anywhere.
“Hey, Gabriel? Since you’ve been around since… forever… why’ve you got a birthday?”
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s cheerful but impertinent question.
“Catholicism,” he heard Gabriel reply cheerfully. “See, some humans are completely mental and actually worship me.”
Dean snorted. “Yeah, the ones who haven’t met you.”
Well, at least they were bickering playfully and not plotting each other’s downfall via the medium of pranks. Probably not, anyway.
“So how come Cas doesn’t get a special day? Because he’s all kinds of awesome.”
“Michaelmas, on September twenty-ninth, celebrates the contributions of all the angels,” Cas put in quietly.
“And October second is Guardian Angels’ Day,” Gabriel added. “I reckon you fall into that these days, little bro.”
“Screw that, Cas,” Dean said, just as Sam came to the door to peer out and work out exactly what the hell Dean and Gabriel were up to. Because if they were going to start tag-teaming Cas then he was stepping in. Gabriel teasing his little brother was fine. Dean teasing his… whatever the hell Cas was to him, that was fine too. But them teasing together? Cas would just be too baffled and flee for an undetermined time. Probably until Dean grovelled. Abjectly. Or until Lucifer decided to take a piece out of their asses. But everything looked civil enough to Sam: Cas and Dean were sat on the sofa, and Gabriel appeared to have created himself a ridiculously comfy-looking lounger opposite.
“If Short Round over there gets his own day, then you sure as shit are going to get one too.” There was a brief pause before Dean announced with a flourish:
“September eighteenth.”
Cas gave one of his tiny smiles. “That seems fitting.”
Sam snorted. “Cas, just claim every Thursday as your birthday and make Dean bake for you every week.”
Gabriel turned gave him a bright, amused smile, while Dean simply rolled his eyes. At least that reaction meant he knew what Sam had meant, which meant he had done his homework on Cas at some point.
“I was one of many angels of Thursday, before my fall,” Cas said. “It continues to be a special day for me, but raising Dean was the most significant Thursday of all. I would be pleased to remember it.”
Gabriel flapped his hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah. Enough about Cas: today is my day. Can I have my cake and my present now?”
Dean smirked and got up from the sofa, reaching his hands towards the ceiling in an indulgent stretch. “C’mon, Cas. That’s our cue to leave.”
Cas frowned. “It is?”
Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him up, grinning. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
Gabriel watched them curiously as Dean dragged Cas out the front door, then looked back to Sam. “What gives?”
Sam felt the flush rise up his neck, and he knew that Gabriel saw it too. The angel’s eyes opened wide as he realised.
“Oh.” His grin softened into an embarrassed smile. “You don’t have to. I know I’ve been teasing, but I would never expect you to do that.”
Sam met his eyes levelly. “But I want to,” he admitted, the words catching in his throat as he realised that he really did want to do this with Gabriel. They had been moving towards it for months, always flirting around the issue, never really looking directly at it until now.
Gabriel gave an exasperated huff. “No, you don’t. And, you know, informed consent is kind of a thing for me.”
Sam kept his gaze, wouldn’t let the angel look away from him. “You can read my mind, right?”
When Gabriel hesitated, he took it as an affirmative answer. “So read it. Tell me I’m lying to you.”
He purposefully remembered each and every time over the last six months he had watched Gabriel when they were out; let Gabriel feel that little knot of jealousy he had felt when Gabriel had flirted with someone else instead of him, and the flare of hope when Gabriel bounced his way back to him. Let him see all the times his mind had wandered while in the shower, imagining the hands on him were Gabriel’s. Showed him how much their time together, whether they were laughing or working, truly meant; how much it warmed his heart to be close to Gabriel.
“Holy crap, Sam!”
Sam took a breath. “Happy birthday?” he offered, before suddenly finding himself backed up and falling against his own bed with a lapful of sneaky archangel grinning down at him.
“So, I seem to remember that you were going to give me a gift I could unwrap?”
Sam frowned, pretending to think about it while desperately trying to play it cool and ignore the guy grinding in his lap.
“Nah, I’m not sure I remember that.”
Gabriel dragged Sam’s head up and kissed him. Soundly. He was all aggression and possessiveness and Sam yielded under him, just gave himself over to the sensation of Gabriel’s mouth moving against his, skilfully pushing at each and every one of Sam’s buttons, biting and licking and clearly enjoying each and every little moan Sam gave up.
“Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. You need to learn to ask for what you want.”
Sam opened his eyes to find Gabriel looming over him once more, eyeing him like a buffet of all his favourite candies. A sharp twist of his hips informed him that Gabriel was doing that immovable force thing, which sent jolts right through him, right to his dick.
“I want you,” he ground out. “I don’t want you making out with other people. I want you here, with me and only me.”
“Didn’t expect that to be so easy,” Gabriel remarked. But his smile was soft and reached his eyes. “Can do. Just one question: where do our clothes factor into this equation?”
Instead of answering, Sam pulled him back down into another scorching kiss.