XOVER: Skin Tight Jeans (SPN/GLEE) 3/3
Title: Skin Tight Jeans
Author: OPERATIONHADES
Beta: EGO_CENTRISME
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Debriel (Gabriel/Dean)
Word Count: 7K~ (this chapter), 19K~ (all)
Summary: Gabriel hates his life. Being one of the older siblings of a long line of Novak's going to Darlton Academy for Boys is boring, back home it's hell, and the only good thing in his life is being friends with the troubled, possibly tone-deaf, Dean Winchester of McKinley High.
AN: Last instalment of this. Now I can cross off 'debriel' from my list of 'things to do'. ;D
PART TWO
PART THREE
Ten years later
Forty-five minutes ago, Sam had dragged Dean here to this crowded, dark bar with the intent to cheer him up. Three hours ago, Dean had found out his fiancée had eloped with another man, leaving nothing but a piece of paper with 'I'm sorry' scrawled in Cassie's loopy handwriting. And Sam's method of cheering someone up were growing increasingly suspicious.
For one, Sam smiled too much. The sort of smile he gave when Dean had told him he was getting married. Nobody should smile that much when their brother got dumped, right? Right. Second, Cas was here. And Balz. And Puck. And, well, um, Hummel too. With his boyfriend, the Blaine one. Whatever his name was. Castiel and Balthazar weren't all too uncommon because Castiel was the drinking champion and thus the designated driver (guy never got drunk, for some reason), and Balzathar knew all the places to be for the best drinks and service no matter what time of day it was, so of course he'd be dragged along. That wasn't even where the weirdness stemmed from, it came from the fact that Castiel was quietly pretending nothing was going on while Balzathar smiled a bit too much too, just like Sam, so yeah, Dean was definitely putting another tick in the suspicious box.
Sure, Dean could understand Noah also being here. They had actually become seriously good friends, despite Dean dropping out of McKinley High as soon as he turned eighteen in their senior year. Dean had all but forced Noah to add him in the pool business, which Dean turned into an actual business, and made enough to keep Sam with him and have Bobby as their technical guardian so the Law wouldn't be pissed. But Peacock and his boyfriend? Dean didn't think he'd ever actually spoken to either of them in his life. They were more... Gabriel's friends... than his.
And thirdly, all of them had been plying Dean with drinks after drinks. Not that he refused any of them, he needed to get smashed like yesterday, but normally, Sam and Castiel would have been telling him drowning his sorrows in alcohol wasn't the way to go instead encouraging him. Only Balzathar and Puck really understood the appeal of oblivion alcohol presented - even if the former personally preferred those prissy drinks with the umbrella's and French names, and the latter preferred women to drinks.
So something was going on. They had something planned. And Dean didn't know if he had the energy to worry about it or to just ignore them and order another drink.
Sam lumbered up besides him, all twenty four years of him, taller then a lumberjack and girlier than Barbie, bumping into Dean's shoulder as he slid in to the dark booth where Dean had enclosed himself. A wide grin with dimples was aimed his way - too fake to be genuine - and Sam wrapped a huge arm around him and squeezed a bit too tight. "Hey, Dean!" He yelled, trying to get his voice heard over the noise of the bar. "How you doing?"
Sighing to himself, Dean rubbed at his face and wondered not for the first time why he let them drag him here. He loved his little brother, there was no denying it, and he loved Castiel and Balthazar (yes, Balz too) like they were family, because as far as he was concerned they were. Puck was the best friend he never thought he'd ever have who was normal, by all intents and purposes. But sometimes, a man needed to just go out on his own and drink his way to an early grave. Bobby understood it, Bobby had told him to drive up to South Dakota when he had the chance and he knew he'd get put up with enough work he wouldn't have time to think about any of this. Bobby had promised to keep a bottle of the good stuff for him, ready for any time Dean passed by, and that was the best sort of condolences Dean could wish for. Pastor Jim, on the other hand, had promised to pray for Dean "in this trying time" and, whereas any other time Dean would've scoffed and completely ignored it, this was coming from Pastor Jim and Dean strongly believed that if anybody could get God up there to pay attention for one goddamn second and not screw up someone's life, it would be Pastor Jim. Mr. Schuester had called too, not uncommon since the now History teacher kept a close eye on Dean after John died, and had quickly become one of those people up there with Bobby and Pastor Jim. Yet, Dean still felt uncomfortable with how positive Mr. Schuester was, telling him that everything would be okay, to just hold on, and if Dean needed anything, not to hesitate at all but call him.
Awkward conversations aside, thankfully the news hadn't travelled too far yet - the last thing Dean needed was to get a call from Missouri - but three hours was enough to have him sitting here pondering on the pros and cons of ditching his brother and friends (except maybe Balzathar), and hitching a ride to another bar. One that was significantly more... Well, less then this. He wanted a dirty, smoky, bar filled with big burly men with no sign of women, except those that liked it from what they called 'real men' and bartenders that couldn't give a shit about customer service. He wanted to maybe pick a fight with one of those aforementioned big burly men, have them comment on his 'pretty boy' features, on his cocksucking lips too, if he got lucky, and he wanted to get lost in the heat and passion of a much healthier pastime than drinking. Healthier because at least then Dean wasn't slowly killing his liver nor would he have a killer headache the next day from an equally killer hangover.
No, he'd probably just have a black eye and maybe a busted lip to boot.
Sam suddenly went rigid besides him, eyes flicking to the stage where the lights had dimmed, grabbing everybody's attention, and Dean sighed forlornly into his drink and finished off the last of it, knowing for a fact he was probably beyond drunk. Then the lights came on up on the stage, people started clapping as someone presumably got up on it and got ready to woo people but Dean kept his head down and eyes focused on his empty glass, mourning the lack of alcohol to drink, wishing it to suddenly refill itself by magic. Even if he'd be too suspicious of a magically refilling glass of beer to drink from it. It was the principle that mattered, here.
"¡Hola, amigos!" A cocky voice spoke through a mic, sounding strangely familiar but not enough to warrant Dean's attention. "So I'm your entertainment tonight. Lucky you, eh?" The crowd went wild a bit, some whooping good naturedly at the humour but quickly quietened down. "Alright, alright, settle down people. This isn't the usual fare for this bar, as the regulars 'round here know, but I'm not your usual guy either." Again, laughter and catcalls went out from the crowd and Dean dimly figured whoever was speaking - why was the voice so familiar? - must've winked or something to get across an innuendo. "But more than just entertaining you lovely folks, I'm here to fix a mistake I did a long time ago, one that I can't apologise enough for. So instead, I'm going to sing it, if that's alright with the rest of ya'll."
Dean snorted bitterly into his drink, thinking how much Mr. Schuester would approve of singing your apology to someone rather than just telling them outright. Gabriel liked to do that, he mused drunkenly to himself, rolling the glass between his hands in fascination. He liked to sing out his feelings for the world to know - the more ridiculous, the more he liked it. But maybe he was different now, ten years was a long time for someone to stay the same. Maybe ten years from now another person Dean cared about would leave him, and he'd be drinking beer and thinking about Cassie like he was thinking about Gabriel.
He thought about that as the opening of some song began, but with liquid courage blazing through his veins, he was able to honestly admit to himself he was still hung up more about Gabriel leaving than Cassie. At least with Cassie he had some inkling of why she might have left but Gabriel's had been abrupt. And too brutal to make sense.
The crowd whistled, recognising the song that only sounded dimly familiar to Dean, something that reminded him of days in Lima, Ohio spent hiding behind bleachers pretending not to watch Gabriel dance and twirl to some obnoxious song ("Hey there! I like your hair! Who does your hair? I wanna go there! Psh, yah!"). Soon enough, it was time for whoever was at the stage to start singing, his cue was coming up in one, two, and there.
"You think I'm pretty without any make-up on,
You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong.
I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down."
The glass slipped from his fingers, Sam was suddenly missing. The little bitch probably ran away and Dean realised with a start this was why the fucker (Sam, Puck, Cas, Balz, Peacock and his Boyfriend, choose your pick) had dragged him here. Dread filling his stomach and stealing his breath, Dean glanced up towards the stage, taking a moment for his eyesight to get used to the lighting and not staring at his own table for so long, and groaned to himself when he recognised none other than Gabriel Novak singing a Katy Perry song into the goddamn mic and staring. Straight. At. Dean.
"Before you met me I was alright,
But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life,
Now every February, you'll be my Valentine. Valentine."
Laughter spread across the crowd as Gabriel did a little twirl, never breaking eye contact with Dean, who gaped speechlessly as the still-short male took control of the stage and owned it. He must have blanked out for a while because of his shock, and looking around, saw no sign of the dicks that had dragged him here. By the time he focused back on Gabriel, the elder Novak was well on the chorus, adding every bit of passion and feeling into his words as if he meant every single one of them. Which couldn't be right, because this was a song about some chick wanting to finally let her boyfriend get some, right? Sam always said Dean was bad at understanding the meaning with song lyrics.
"My heart stops when you look at me.
Just one touch, now baby I believe.
This is real, so take a chance and-
-Don't ever look back, don't ever look back.
I'm-a get your heart racing, in my skin-tight jeans,
be your teenage dream tonight.
Let you put your hands on me, in my skin-tight jeans,
be your teenage dream tonight."
The last word echoed as the song came to a close, the crowd going wild, clapping and whistling in gusto as Gabriel bowed flamboyantly and pushed back his still floppy hair the same way Sam did. Of course he did, because Sam had learnt that really irritating move from Gabriel himself. Dean hunkered in on himself in his booth, wishing like hell the floor would just open up and swallow him, because he did not need this. He'd just been dumped by his girlfriend of three years, rudely dumped, and now his first love was here? Acting the exact same way that Dean had embarrassingly fallen in love with? Jesus, this was the worst day ever. Only thing that could top this off was Missouri calling up out of the blue and threaten him with her spoon if he didn't stop moping about right-this-second-young-man-and-get-your-shit-together.
"So, heh," Gabriel's voice spoke up again. "That's probably not what you expected as an I'm sorry song," Dean winced, remembering the letter he'd found tacked on to his apartment door with the same two words. "But considering who I'm singing it for, a big boy of the name Dean who's somewhere in this crowd probably wishing to be dead, it pretty much says everything I needed to say." Gabriel took a deep breath, as if fortifying himself for something, and Dean found himself unwillingly looking up to confirm the movement for himself. Gabriel never needed to prepare himself for something - if you told him to sing a solo right then and there he'd start belching it out with nothing but a grin - but Dean found himself staring as Gabriel smoothed down his shirt, fussed with his hair and looked at anywhere but Dean.
Gabriel was nervous.
"I'm sorry as fuck for leaving you, Dean." Oh God, Dean could not behearing this. "I'm sorry for leaving you at the worst possible time - if I'd known, I would've dropped everything and come as soon as I could've, I swear. And despite what Blaine and my stupid bro's keep yapping on about, I know you can't forgive me. That'd be too damn easy, right? So instead, let me buy you a drink? And get you laid? I know just the right place." The jackass actually winked at Dean and waved a hand down at himself, causing the crowd to teeter hysterically at his innuendo. "I'll even let you make Viking cracks at me all you want. Forever."
Dean glared, seething on the inside as he slammed his glass down on the table and got up, finally done with this. He spotted Sam as soon as his butt was off his seat and glared at his little brother too. Turning around to get out, he slammed straight into Puck and, wobbled backwards before Castiel grabbed his arm to settle him down. Before he could order them to move the hell out of his way, Balzathar slithered up beside them, smile wide and charming, his eyes glinting dangerously as he smoothed down his V-neck shirt. "Oh, Dean." He enthused happily, practically beaming at the elder Winchester. "All the bouncers and staff have been informed not to let your depressive ass out of here until you're drunker than a Sammy dating Ruby-"
"-Hey!-"
"-and barely coherent. Oh, and insanely happy too. Now go speak to Gabriel before he sings another god forsaken song. He promised not to sing that terrible Celine Dion one but you know how Gabriel is with promises."
"Shut up, dude." Puck hissed, elbowing Balzathar in the stomach as Dean's expression went hard - because yeah, yeah he totally knew how Gabriel was with promises, the lying son of a bitch. Gabriel had promised that he would tell him when he got accepted and where he was going (it was always a toss up between Norway, some other European country or Japan), and that they'd hang out and get Gabriel ready for it when the acceptance letter came. But Gabriel had broken that promise and just disappeared.
Gabriel had broken that promise and just left.
Ignoring the others, Dean rounded on Castiel and glared at him heatedly, wondering how someone who 'gripped him tight and saved him from depression' ten years ago (or some crap like that) could just throw him to the sharks. "You planned this?" He hissed, waving a hand to encompass the whole bar, Gabriel, everything. "How could you?!"
Castiel cocked his head to the side, looking completely unaffected by Dean's accusations, and calmly said, "You miss your best friend."
Dean, beyond drunk by now thanks to the adrenaline helping the beer rushed along through his blood, dropped his head to stare at his shoes and scuffed them against the floor. "You're my best friend."
Castiel inclined his head in calm agreement, as businesslike as he'd always been while Balz and Sammy went gooey eyed somewhere behind them and Puck snorted and burst out laughing, unable to hold his amusement back. Dean didn't know where Hummel and his Boyfriend were but maybe they were consulting with the Devil, aka Gabriel, because hell if he knew who even invited them. "You and I do share a profound bond," Castiel said agreeably, patting Dean on the shoulder in the universal sign of 'hang in there, soldier'. "But you and Gabriel have a unique relationship. Go to him and resolve your issues."
Refusing to move and do anything of the sort (he left, Gabriel left, not Dean), Dean crossed his arms across his chest defensively and held his spot until the sasquatch standing beside him rolled his eyes heavenwards and simply grabbed him by the arm, hauling him forcibly to some random direction. Dean struggled to get out of the giant's hold, willing to even slip out of his leather jacket just to break free but Puck clicked his tongue ("Oh my God!", Dean thought wildly, "Puck was Missouri in disguise!") and helped Sam drag Dean off to who knew where.
Except when Dean craned his neck and searched the area he was being dragged too, he saw Gabriel sitting at an empty booth just watching them with guarded eyes.
"See?" Dean was quick to blurt out. "He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want this too. You guys forced him here, right? Just let me go and we'll never have to speak about this!"
The two giants (who knew Puck would get so tall, dammit), dropped him in beside Gabriel, ignoring him completely, and Sam huffed girlishly and slapped his hands together. "Right you two, hurry up, kiss and make up so we can leave."
Puck added on a derisive, "Try not to kill each other." But ultimately, the two left, leaving Dean alone with Gabriel, who fiddled awkwardly with his drink.
"So..." Yep, that sounded definitely awkward. Dean stared at Gabriel, deploying one of Cas' freaky un-blinking stares he himself had gotten good over the years imitating (always made him win in eye-staring contests), and kept quiet. "You look good?"
And because Dean was not Castiel, and could never attribute the amount of stony patience Castiel had, Dean threw his arms in the air incredulously. "Don't act friendly with me!" He burst out, pointing a finger at Gabriel, jabbing it forcefully. "Not after ten fucking years, Gabriel!"
Gabriel winced, physically recoiling from Dean at hearing his full first name. Dean only ever called him Gabriel rather than Gabe when he was seriously pissed off or angry. "I'm sorry, Dean. I really fucking am, and I don't know how to make things better."
"You can't." Dean supplied quickly. "You lost that goddamn chance a whole year after disappearing. Not even one word, Gabriel. Not one. Do you know what sort of shit I went through?"
Shaking his head, Gabriel stared down into his drink before answering. "Cas and Balz refused to tell me the details. They wanted me to call you up and find out for myself." Then he paused, swallowing thickly, and Dean watched as Gabriel's fingers tightened around his drink reflexively. "Dean... I... I knew about your Dad." Dean flinched, bodily startling backwards, and Gabriel looked up from his drink with guilty wide eyes as he rambled on. "God, I'm so sorry, Dean. I'm just so sorry."
"Then why didn't you call?" Dean mumbled, forcing himself to relax, hunching in on himself in his seat. His mouth was dry, his throat parched and all he wanted was a couple more shots thrown his way to drown his sorrows and just forget about all of this, about his whole goddamn life.
But Gabriel got his attention by slamming his hands on their table. "Because I was afraid, dammit!" He burst out, the words seemingly escaping from him and refusing to be held back. "I thought you wouldn't want to hear from me. I was a whole week late in finding out about that, and I just figured I'd already lost my chance! And then time just kept going on further and further and further and before I know it it's been four years and I just... gave up. How the hell was I supposed to call you after four years?"
Dean mumbled, "You could have. You should have. You suck."
And Gabriel grinned self-deprecatingly, mumbling back a, "Yeah, I do."
The conversation lulled into a silence, Gabriel with his drink and Dean with nothing but the table top to stare at as they mulled over their thoughts. Dean was still thirsty for a drink - alcohol was a thirst the only cure for was passing out - and was just aching for when the conversation would finish and he could go. A warm body scooted up beside him, Gabriel moving in closer, right up next to Dean, and turned in his seat to face him. Alerted by the movement, Dean tried moving back - the dig about personal space he used to throw at Castiel, sitting on his tongue - but kept his mouth closed when he saw Gabriel looking nervous. If that wasn't a neon sign to get instantly alerted somebody and snapping them from their drunken haze, Dean didn't know what was.
"Just..." Gabriel started, eyes glancing anywhere but at Dean, still scooting in closer until they were pressed up from thigh to shoulder, one long line of warmth. "Punch me or something if you don't want to, okay?"
And then, before Dean could demand what the hell Gabriel was talking about, the older Novak gentle gripped Dean by the chin, turning him until the two of them were facing each other perfectly, and, leaning in close, kissed him.
Immediately, catcalls burst out all around them, a noisy testament to just how nosy people are by nature. Dean could dimly hear Sam's horrified, "I didn't mean it literally!" and Balz yelling, "You owe me a tenner, Cas!" all gleeful, and Dean thought, 'Gabe can really kiss'.
The warm lips detached from his own, Gabriel pulling back from the far too chaste kiss, his golden eyes studied him, taking in Dean's reaction. "... Was that... okay?"
Just that. Nothing else. Just a quiet question to whether or not he was okay with this or not.
Dean had just been cheated upon by his fiancée of three years, he had nothing but bad luck for the past ten years (with money issues, grief, and the bastard that killed his parents being a main point) and Gabriel had been one of the most pinnacle points of his life, the first best friend he ever had during all those travels John used to take them on as soon as their mom died. His first honest to God, most genuine, crush that had ended up with Dean falling head over heels for a guy. But Gabriel left him - Gabriel sucked - but he was also awesome, liked to sing really gay songs, and could kiss better than anybody Dean's ever kissed, and he's kissed a lot of people.
So why the hell not?
"Okay." Dean confirmed, nodding once. He just wanted to get back to the really nice kissing but immediately found Gabriel's blinding grin as a reply really freaking nice too.
. . .
It felt like hours later that Dean struggled to open his eyes, waking up to his mouth tasting like ass and his head pounding to the rhythm of the craziest techno music ever produced. He groaned, wishing he'd never woken up, and sighed in relief when the feeling of the bed beneath him finally registered. And Jesus was the bed incredible. It felt simply divine, and comfortable, and Dean could genuinely sleep on this mattress, under the blankets, for what felt like the rest of his entire life - and not even complain.
Cracking his eyes open further as he snuggled down into the sheets, Dean peered around the room and saw that it was still dark. The cabinet beside him had a digital clock sitting up top, green neon numbers brightly proclaiming it '03:45', which sucked ass too and Dean's head hurt way too much for this, so he should really just go back to sleep. Approving of this course of action, Dean rolled over and groaned again, this time pitifully as his head spiked painfully at the movement, and smacked right into another body.
Another male body.
A short, compact, male body belonging to a golden eyed Gabriel peering at him blearily in amusement.
"Hangover?" Gabriel whispered quietly, handing him a small cup of water. Dean anchored himself up, nodded his head once for lack of anything to say, and swallowed the water down in quick gulps before dropping back onto the sheets.
Watching him with a warm look, Gabriel grinned and cocked an eyebrow. "You passed out in the taxi." He informed Dean. "The moose warned me you'd probably do that."
"Sammy?" Dean slurred, his face still smushed into the absolutely sinful pillow his head was resting on.
Gabriel's expression became fond, and talented fingers started curling into Dean's hair. "Got home safely." He answered Dean's question. "Don't worry, I made sure of it. Didn't know the brat has a cute girlfriend, though. She's way above his paygrade."
Dean's response was to stuff his face deeper in his pillow and groan pitifully once more.
The weight of a warm hand dropped in between his shoulder blades, Dean suddenly realising he was pretty much naked except for his boxers, and the hand started kneading the muscles there. The pressure wrenched a hearted moan from him that wasn't at all pitiful and Dean could hear Gabriel chuckling above him in amusement.
"Now, I distinctly remember offering to get you laid tonight." Gabriel's voice swept over Dean, low and husky. "Or last night, whatever. I hear sex is good for the soul - and hangovers."
Dean thought about it; he wasn't that easy (actually, yeah, he was), and Gabriel had freakin' abandoned him just like everybody else (he still didn't like to think of the dark years where Sam had run off to Stanford and left Dean thinking he was dead, killed by the people that had killed their parents). Gabe should have known better then that!
But he was here now, he'd apologised and Dean had a freaking hangover and could really use some rebound sex thanks to goddamn Cassie. But he didn't want to just have sex with Gabe and see him gone the next day, he didn't want that, had never wanted it, and because of it, Dean found himself about to completely call it off when Gabe started speaking;
"You know what I did in Norway?"
Fingers pressed down into a particularly knot in between the Winchester's shoulder blades as the older man spoke and Dean groaned out his, "No."
"Mythology and Lore," answered Gabriel, voice still now but now tinged with thoughtfulness. "I learned about the Greek Gods and Norse Pagan, about the people that worshipped them, and about religion and lore. But outside of that, I also taught myself about a few useful skills that would help my... certain field."
Gabriel's hands moved downwards, gliding across Dean's back, and the movement left goosebumps in their wake. "I learned how to pick pockets, how to pick locks, how to see a fake ID from a real one, and the observation of art." Those deft hands poked and prodded at the muscles on the small of his back as Gabriel continued, voice a low rumble that made Dean shudder in his place. "I learned how to forge a Picasso, a Van Gogh, bonds and dollar notes. I learned how to con, smooth talk my way past security, smooth talk my way into security, how to play a whole company out of their whole finance."
Dean muffled an embarrassed moan that escaped him with the pillow, suddenly being reminded that it wasn't his, which meant wherever they were must have been Gabriel's place. He refused to acknowledge the growing stir in his stomach, because there was no way in Hell he was getting aroused by the most bizarre dirty talk he'd ever heard. Gabriel chuckled as if he knew what he was doing anyway, and continued kneading, moving back up the expanse of flesh and to Dean's arms, pressing into the biceps rhythmically, soothingly.
"I went by the name Loki, made friends with others, had a destructive fling with a psycho chick called Kali, and accumulated more money then the Novak family, enough to have me listed as one of the top hundred riches men - if any of my financial gains had been legal, anyway."
Finally, Dean found himself able to scrounge up the necessary amount of energy required to murmur his impromptu masseuse's name. "Gabriel?" Despite himself, he was starting to feel damn curious as to why Gabriel was telling him all this.
Sighing above him, behind him, Gabriel blew out the air from his lungs with something approaching sadness. "I'm gonna get you to call me Gabe again, I swear." he promised. "And I have a job lined up here. Ever heard of Sandover Inc?"
Dean tensed, the ugly thought of 'so that's why he's here, bet he's gonna leave afterwards' gripping him and paralysing his thoughts. Gabriel didn't seem to notice, continuing to knead and press in all the right places until Dean was putty in his hands all over again, despite the growing dread replacing his lust.
"Remember Zachariah?" Gabriel asked, continuing to speak as his fingers drifted to the small of Dean's back. "My cousin with the smarmy, smug face? Can't believe that dick shares the same surname as me. Anyway, he's the acting CEO or something. And I really wanna screw him over. Right now he's off in Japan trying to open a new branch. It'll take him months before he even makes progress, so while he's gone, I want to slip the rug right out of his dumb feet and steal his company from him. Then use the money to parade around the world and maybe go to the Bahamas. You ever been to the Bahamas, Dean? It's beautiful, I hear. Thought maybe I should take you to Norway before there, show you the sights."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean finally sighed, a midge calmer than he normally would have had he not been getting the best massage of his life. "Just get to the point already. If you want a one night stand then freaking say so-"
"-I need a partner though; for the job. Someone I can trust." Gabriel interrupted him, digging into Dean's tail bone with his fingers. "And not just for this but for everything. There aren't many cons out there that are one-man capable and frankly, I know you know all a conman's tricks - hell, you even offered to teach me half the stuff back when we were in school. So how 'bout it, Dean-o? Wanna join me in my illegal but fun life?"
Dean stopped breathing, and wondered to himself if perhaps his hearing was playing tricks on him. "W-what?"
Gabriel, the bastard, snickered above him and brushed at the soft hair on Dean's nape. "No one night stand, bucko. It took me ten years but I always wanted you for longer and this time, I'm not letting you go - at all. So join me in a life of decadence? We can flaunt our criminal ways at your giant of a lawyer brother too. Oh and get Balzathar in on some of the more Ritz cons with his posh accent. Maybe Cas for when we need a cop. He'd be a good cop, all stony face and alien vibes, or maybe a bad one because of it." Gabriel rambled, something he only did when he was nervous, a surprising trait that seemed to have stayed the same despite the number of years.
The knowledge calmed Dean, reminded him that the man still pressed up against his back with his hands still as he nervously babbled was still the friend he remembered him to be. More than that, the knowledge had his heart beating double time to know his friend was still the same person he had a crush on - a crush that apparently grew stronger over the last ten years and hadn't dimmed a single bit.
"Gabriel." Dean interrupted, forcibly turning around and feeling very pleased with himself at the sight of Gabriel straddling his lap. "Where do I sign up?"
Gabriel made an adorable, "Huh?" noise, staring down at Dean with hazel-gold eyes and raised eyebrows. Dean just grinned at the reaction.
"The job." He clarified. "Sandover. Screwing that bastard Zachariah over. What would be my role?"
And Gabriel's face split into a grin. A wide, wide grin, just like the one last night after the kiss, except neither of them were drunk here (technically) and because they both knew Dean was agreeing for far more than just a con at a company. He was agreeing to everything Gabriel couldn't directly say, to everything they had to abandon for whatever reason, to something potentially real, something potentially incredible. The heady feeling that suddenly spread its root in Dean's chest had him grinning even wider, until Gabriel's features suddenly went wicked, and then the grin slipped right off Dean's face like water as Gabriel leaned down until the two of them were almost chest to chest, the older man's face face just inches from Dean's own.
"Your role, Dean-o," Gabriel breathed. "is gonna be Dean Smith, Director of Sales and Marketing, our insider."
Dean barely had enough brain cells still working despite the close contact to cock an eyebrow. "Smith? Generic and bland. Makes sense." He conceded thoughtfully. "And Director huh? Do I get my own swanky office?"
Gabriel's grin was lascivious and pure evil. "Mmhmm," he hummed, their faces so close that Dean could swear he could feel the vibrations from the simple noise travelling to his own lips and making him hunger for more. "I remember how good you were with numbers."
"And you?" Dean found himself asking, voice unconsciously imitating Gabriel's as they came out low and breathy, the darkness and shared quarters of the moment demanding intimacy.
"I'm going to be your scandal. Think you can handle me? Oh and, a few dozen paparazzi?"
Dean chuckled as realisation suddenly hit him. He knew exactly which con Gabriel was planning to pull off. He grinned, approving the idea, and even opened his mouth to say so when Gabriel's eyes suddenly flashed golden. Lips were on him before Dean could string two and two together, and Gabriel's fingers trailed a hot path up Dean's sides, making him gasp in surprise at the sensation. Gabriel didn't waste time as he took the opportunity and plunged right into the moist cavern, delving deeper and meshing their lips together like a dying man's last chance for air, drinking in the noise of surprise Dean let loose.
Dean's hands flew up to Gabriel's hip, clutching tightly on the warm skin there as the Novak's tongue reduced his brain to nothing but primal urges. The kiss was dirty, filthy in the way their tongues slid together, messy in how they barely let up to breathe before diving in for more. Gabriel's hands were all over him, massaging and stroking, thumbs sneakily moulding over the peaks of his nipple before catching them with index fingers and pinching. Retaliation was in order, so Dean let his hands move from the anchor that was Gabriel's hip and make a beeline for the older man's ass, digging his fingers into the flesh and yanking it down closer towards his own as he jerked upwards.
The move startled Gabriel into breaking off, lips bruised and swollen, glistening with saliva as Dean rutted up again, grinning smugly as Gabriel groaned in delight. The next was stronger, more purposeful as both participants pushed into it, thrusting together, boxers the only barrier between them. Dean was quickly hardening. He could feel Gabriel long and thick above him, pleasure growing with the second as ten years worth of sexual frustration exploded between them and turned into apprehension. God, he could remember the first time he'd masturbated to the thought of Gabriel, those lips and that tongue wrapping on his dick rather than whatever lollipop the frustrating teen had been eating.
Gabriel chuckled breathlessly above him, hands moving away from Dean's pectorals to his hips, stilling him with a strength belying his small frame. Dean felt himself responding immediately, opening his mouth to argue at the fact that they'd stopped but the glint in Gabriel's eyes had him realising something.
He'd spoken out loud.
And Gabriel looked victorious.
A kiss landed on his chest, a tongue flicked out over a nipple, making Dean's breath hitch and boxer briefs grow painfully tight. Gabriel just moved lower, vaguely sauntering down his chest, peppering bites and kisses, little nips on special places like the jut of Dean's hipbone, until his hot breath was fanning over the elastic of Dean's boxers. Dean knew his face was burning bright red, embarrassment at losing his brain to mouth filter warring with everything that was happening in his chest from the look on Gabriel's face; the wickedly pleased quirk to his lips, the dangerous glint to his eyes, the possessive but gentle hands gripping the elastic band and slowly dragging it down Dean's hip to expose his arousal.
Hot air blew over his cock, alighting the nerves there and forcing Dean to keep his eyes open. Gabriel glanced at him, grinned cockily, then licked his lips slow and wet before letting them rest on the tip. Two warm hands palmed his inner thighs, spreading them further apart so Gabriel could comfortably slot himself between them, making a home for himself there, but not once did he let up on the pressure of his lips right there, taunting, teasing, daring.
Dean let the seconds tick by, one, two, three, then gave a very tentative thrust of his hip.
Gabriel's lips moved further up, covering the drop of precome just barely beading up, but made no further move.
Confused but starting to maybe get a hint, Dean struggled with himself for a second before deciding to follow through, and rocked his hips again, careful not to push Gabriel off him. He chocked on air when his cock surprisingly pushed through Gabriel's suddenly slack lips, the head of his dick disappearing into a moist heat before resurfacing back again as Dean settled back, and suddenly he knew what Gabriel wanted. Surprise exchanging for a low simmering heat, Dean pushed up again, more power in his hips, and swallowed thickly as his dick went further into Gabriel's mouth, the sensation of a tongue licking over him punching a gasp out of him. Somehow, his fingers locked into the lush brown hair, weaving into it to hold on as Dean let himself enjoy Gabriel's mouth, full out moaning when Gabriel's pleased hum vibrated along his manhood.
The moist heat had him distracted enough to not hear the sound of something popping open but it couldn't distract him from feeling the finger covered in cold liquid suddenly at his entrance. Flinching at the cold, Dean cursed, quieting down as Gabriel used his free hand to rub soothingly at his hip in apology, and fully relaxed fully Gabriel finally moved his hand and dropped down onto his cock, deep throating him as a lubed finger nudged in and entered him.
Gabriel kept at it, humming at random moments as his finger curled inside Dean, then eased it out only to replace it with two. The ache barely registered to Dean, too busy panting as Gabriel found his prostrate and rubbed against it while vibrating around his cock. Before Dean knew it, three fingers were in him and stretching him apart. His thighs were pushed further apart, knees bent so his feet planted firmly on the sheets. Gabriel continued fingering him, making sure he was loose and ready, continually assaulting Dean's prostrate until he finally dragged them out, rising off Dean's dick with a dirty pop.
"Okay?"
Stretching himself out on the bed, Dean nodded down once at Gabriel, and purred when the smaller man slithered up his body and deftly licked into his mouth. The warm body blanketing his own felt amazing, so amazing in fact he made a sound of protest when Gabriel climbed off him and stretched to dig around in his jeans. It became obvious what he was searching for when Gabriel cheered and held up a condom, fitting himself against Dean's back again with an odd chuckle at Dean's frustrated huff. Gabriel lined himself up and nudged in, kept kissing him through it, letting himself in inch by inch until he bottomed, hip pressing up snugly against Dean's ass. Cursing, Dean let his head drop back down onto the pillow, letting himself adjust to the intrusion as he stared up at the ceiling. Gabriel let him have a few moments, carefully working a hickey on Dean's neck until Dean rolled his hips and let loose an explosive, "Move."
Despite his personality, Gabriel moved slowly, drawing out then pushing in, repeating the movements carefully and precisely. He didn't speed up an inch, changing the angle with each thrust until Dean seized up and moaned, keeping at it until Dean was nothing but a writhing mess beneath him.
"I hated my life," Gabriel groaned, dropping his head to rest on Dean's shoulder, whispering into his ear, "and I hated that school."
Dean responded with a frank, "Fuck you," sinking his teeth into the expanse of shoulder in front of him, worrying the skin as Gabriel jolted and thrusted hard into him. "You weren't the only one with a- fuck- a- a shitty life."
One of them moaned but Gabriel couldn't tell as he dropped a hand between them to grip Dean's erection, stroking in time with his thrusts. "No," he breathed, rising up to look down at the image Dean made, spread out on his bed as he was. "I wasn't. But I hated everything, everything except you. And I was so sure I couldn't have you."
"I kissed you," Dean whined, head thrown back at a particularly brutal thrust. "I kissed you and you- you left."
Gabriel felt himself at the edge, teetering so close to danger, and quickened his stroking. "I thought it was a mistake. I thought you were straight."
Dean laughed breathlessly, urging Gabriel on as he felt himself about to come. Gabriel leaned down, tightening his hand around him, and groaned his name. Dean felt himself tightening up, muscles straining as he arched off the bed as he came, and somewhere in the haze of his orgasm he could hear Gabriel moaning above him. The rush of pleasure crested and fell, letting Dean drop back down onto the bed and catch his breath. Gabriel rolled off him to the side, snuggling in almost immediately and curling around Dean's spent body.
"How was I supposed to know you had the hots for me?" Gabriel whined, planting his face in the crook between Dean's neck and shoulder. "Not fair."
Breathing in deep and letting it out on an exhale, Dean stared up at the ceiling and asked the one question that had been bugging him. "Why today? Why come today, of all days? Because of Cassie?"
A hum answered him, hot breath fanning onto his already heated skin. "Nope. Didn't know 'bout her until I'd arrived. I just... heard that song you sang at McKingley High's Glee Club, and... it reminded me of you. I never stopped..." he trailed off, a hot palm sliding over Dean's chest to rest on his heart, and Dean sighed, relaxing fully into the bed and Gabriel.
"Yeah," he heard himself say anyway, deciding a few more hours of sleep were in order. "Okay."
THE END
Author: OPERATIONHADES
Beta: EGO_CENTRISME
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Debriel (Gabriel/Dean)
Word Count: 7K~ (this chapter), 19K~ (all)
Summary: Gabriel hates his life. Being one of the older siblings of a long line of Novak's going to Darlton Academy for Boys is boring, back home it's hell, and the only good thing in his life is being friends with the troubled, possibly tone-deaf, Dean Winchester of McKinley High.
AN: Last instalment of this. Now I can cross off 'debriel' from my list of 'things to do'. ;D
PART TWO
PART THREE
Ten years later
Forty-five minutes ago, Sam had dragged Dean here to this crowded, dark bar with the intent to cheer him up. Three hours ago, Dean had found out his fiancée had eloped with another man, leaving nothing but a piece of paper with 'I'm sorry' scrawled in Cassie's loopy handwriting. And Sam's method of cheering someone up were growing increasingly suspicious.
For one, Sam smiled too much. The sort of smile he gave when Dean had told him he was getting married. Nobody should smile that much when their brother got dumped, right? Right. Second, Cas was here. And Balz. And Puck. And, well, um, Hummel too. With his boyfriend, the Blaine one. Whatever his name was. Castiel and Balthazar weren't all too uncommon because Castiel was the drinking champion and thus the designated driver (guy never got drunk, for some reason), and Balzathar knew all the places to be for the best drinks and service no matter what time of day it was, so of course he'd be dragged along. That wasn't even where the weirdness stemmed from, it came from the fact that Castiel was quietly pretending nothing was going on while Balzathar smiled a bit too much too, just like Sam, so yeah, Dean was definitely putting another tick in the suspicious box.
Sure, Dean could understand Noah also being here. They had actually become seriously good friends, despite Dean dropping out of McKinley High as soon as he turned eighteen in their senior year. Dean had all but forced Noah to add him in the pool business, which Dean turned into an actual business, and made enough to keep Sam with him and have Bobby as their technical guardian so the Law wouldn't be pissed. But Peacock and his boyfriend? Dean didn't think he'd ever actually spoken to either of them in his life. They were more... Gabriel's friends... than his.
And thirdly, all of them had been plying Dean with drinks after drinks. Not that he refused any of them, he needed to get smashed like yesterday, but normally, Sam and Castiel would have been telling him drowning his sorrows in alcohol wasn't the way to go instead encouraging him. Only Balzathar and Puck really understood the appeal of oblivion alcohol presented - even if the former personally preferred those prissy drinks with the umbrella's and French names, and the latter preferred women to drinks.
So something was going on. They had something planned. And Dean didn't know if he had the energy to worry about it or to just ignore them and order another drink.
Sam lumbered up besides him, all twenty four years of him, taller then a lumberjack and girlier than Barbie, bumping into Dean's shoulder as he slid in to the dark booth where Dean had enclosed himself. A wide grin with dimples was aimed his way - too fake to be genuine - and Sam wrapped a huge arm around him and squeezed a bit too tight. "Hey, Dean!" He yelled, trying to get his voice heard over the noise of the bar. "How you doing?"
Sighing to himself, Dean rubbed at his face and wondered not for the first time why he let them drag him here. He loved his little brother, there was no denying it, and he loved Castiel and Balthazar (yes, Balz too) like they were family, because as far as he was concerned they were. Puck was the best friend he never thought he'd ever have who was normal, by all intents and purposes. But sometimes, a man needed to just go out on his own and drink his way to an early grave. Bobby understood it, Bobby had told him to drive up to South Dakota when he had the chance and he knew he'd get put up with enough work he wouldn't have time to think about any of this. Bobby had promised to keep a bottle of the good stuff for him, ready for any time Dean passed by, and that was the best sort of condolences Dean could wish for. Pastor Jim, on the other hand, had promised to pray for Dean "in this trying time" and, whereas any other time Dean would've scoffed and completely ignored it, this was coming from Pastor Jim and Dean strongly believed that if anybody could get God up there to pay attention for one goddamn second and not screw up someone's life, it would be Pastor Jim. Mr. Schuester had called too, not uncommon since the now History teacher kept a close eye on Dean after John died, and had quickly become one of those people up there with Bobby and Pastor Jim. Yet, Dean still felt uncomfortable with how positive Mr. Schuester was, telling him that everything would be okay, to just hold on, and if Dean needed anything, not to hesitate at all but call him.
Awkward conversations aside, thankfully the news hadn't travelled too far yet - the last thing Dean needed was to get a call from Missouri - but three hours was enough to have him sitting here pondering on the pros and cons of ditching his brother and friends (except maybe Balzathar), and hitching a ride to another bar. One that was significantly more... Well, less then this. He wanted a dirty, smoky, bar filled with big burly men with no sign of women, except those that liked it from what they called 'real men' and bartenders that couldn't give a shit about customer service. He wanted to maybe pick a fight with one of those aforementioned big burly men, have them comment on his 'pretty boy' features, on his cocksucking lips too, if he got lucky, and he wanted to get lost in the heat and passion of a much healthier pastime than drinking. Healthier because at least then Dean wasn't slowly killing his liver nor would he have a killer headache the next day from an equally killer hangover.
No, he'd probably just have a black eye and maybe a busted lip to boot.
Sam suddenly went rigid besides him, eyes flicking to the stage where the lights had dimmed, grabbing everybody's attention, and Dean sighed forlornly into his drink and finished off the last of it, knowing for a fact he was probably beyond drunk. Then the lights came on up on the stage, people started clapping as someone presumably got up on it and got ready to woo people but Dean kept his head down and eyes focused on his empty glass, mourning the lack of alcohol to drink, wishing it to suddenly refill itself by magic. Even if he'd be too suspicious of a magically refilling glass of beer to drink from it. It was the principle that mattered, here.
"¡Hola, amigos!" A cocky voice spoke through a mic, sounding strangely familiar but not enough to warrant Dean's attention. "So I'm your entertainment tonight. Lucky you, eh?" The crowd went wild a bit, some whooping good naturedly at the humour but quickly quietened down. "Alright, alright, settle down people. This isn't the usual fare for this bar, as the regulars 'round here know, but I'm not your usual guy either." Again, laughter and catcalls went out from the crowd and Dean dimly figured whoever was speaking - why was the voice so familiar? - must've winked or something to get across an innuendo. "But more than just entertaining you lovely folks, I'm here to fix a mistake I did a long time ago, one that I can't apologise enough for. So instead, I'm going to sing it, if that's alright with the rest of ya'll."
Dean snorted bitterly into his drink, thinking how much Mr. Schuester would approve of singing your apology to someone rather than just telling them outright. Gabriel liked to do that, he mused drunkenly to himself, rolling the glass between his hands in fascination. He liked to sing out his feelings for the world to know - the more ridiculous, the more he liked it. But maybe he was different now, ten years was a long time for someone to stay the same. Maybe ten years from now another person Dean cared about would leave him, and he'd be drinking beer and thinking about Cassie like he was thinking about Gabriel.
He thought about that as the opening of some song began, but with liquid courage blazing through his veins, he was able to honestly admit to himself he was still hung up more about Gabriel leaving than Cassie. At least with Cassie he had some inkling of why she might have left but Gabriel's had been abrupt. And too brutal to make sense.
The crowd whistled, recognising the song that only sounded dimly familiar to Dean, something that reminded him of days in Lima, Ohio spent hiding behind bleachers pretending not to watch Gabriel dance and twirl to some obnoxious song ("Hey there! I like your hair! Who does your hair? I wanna go there! Psh, yah!"). Soon enough, it was time for whoever was at the stage to start singing, his cue was coming up in one, two, and there.
"You think I'm pretty without any make-up on,
You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong.
I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down."
The glass slipped from his fingers, Sam was suddenly missing. The little bitch probably ran away and Dean realised with a start this was why the fucker (Sam, Puck, Cas, Balz, Peacock and his Boyfriend, choose your pick) had dragged him here. Dread filling his stomach and stealing his breath, Dean glanced up towards the stage, taking a moment for his eyesight to get used to the lighting and not staring at his own table for so long, and groaned to himself when he recognised none other than Gabriel Novak singing a Katy Perry song into the goddamn mic and staring. Straight. At. Dean.
"Before you met me I was alright,
But things were kinda heavy, you brought me to life,
Now every February, you'll be my Valentine. Valentine."
Laughter spread across the crowd as Gabriel did a little twirl, never breaking eye contact with Dean, who gaped speechlessly as the still-short male took control of the stage and owned it. He must have blanked out for a while because of his shock, and looking around, saw no sign of the dicks that had dragged him here. By the time he focused back on Gabriel, the elder Novak was well on the chorus, adding every bit of passion and feeling into his words as if he meant every single one of them. Which couldn't be right, because this was a song about some chick wanting to finally let her boyfriend get some, right? Sam always said Dean was bad at understanding the meaning with song lyrics.
"My heart stops when you look at me.
Just one touch, now baby I believe.
This is real, so take a chance and-
-Don't ever look back, don't ever look back.
I'm-a get your heart racing, in my skin-tight jeans,
be your teenage dream tonight.
Let you put your hands on me, in my skin-tight jeans,
be your teenage dream tonight."
The last word echoed as the song came to a close, the crowd going wild, clapping and whistling in gusto as Gabriel bowed flamboyantly and pushed back his still floppy hair the same way Sam did. Of course he did, because Sam had learnt that really irritating move from Gabriel himself. Dean hunkered in on himself in his booth, wishing like hell the floor would just open up and swallow him, because he did not need this. He'd just been dumped by his girlfriend of three years, rudely dumped, and now his first love was here? Acting the exact same way that Dean had embarrassingly fallen in love with? Jesus, this was the worst day ever. Only thing that could top this off was Missouri calling up out of the blue and threaten him with her spoon if he didn't stop moping about right-this-second-young-man-and-get-your-shit-together.
"So, heh," Gabriel's voice spoke up again. "That's probably not what you expected as an I'm sorry song," Dean winced, remembering the letter he'd found tacked on to his apartment door with the same two words. "But considering who I'm singing it for, a big boy of the name Dean who's somewhere in this crowd probably wishing to be dead, it pretty much says everything I needed to say." Gabriel took a deep breath, as if fortifying himself for something, and Dean found himself unwillingly looking up to confirm the movement for himself. Gabriel never needed to prepare himself for something - if you told him to sing a solo right then and there he'd start belching it out with nothing but a grin - but Dean found himself staring as Gabriel smoothed down his shirt, fussed with his hair and looked at anywhere but Dean.
Gabriel was nervous.
"I'm sorry as fuck for leaving you, Dean." Oh God, Dean could not behearing this. "I'm sorry for leaving you at the worst possible time - if I'd known, I would've dropped everything and come as soon as I could've, I swear. And despite what Blaine and my stupid bro's keep yapping on about, I know you can't forgive me. That'd be too damn easy, right? So instead, let me buy you a drink? And get you laid? I know just the right place." The jackass actually winked at Dean and waved a hand down at himself, causing the crowd to teeter hysterically at his innuendo. "I'll even let you make Viking cracks at me all you want. Forever."
Dean glared, seething on the inside as he slammed his glass down on the table and got up, finally done with this. He spotted Sam as soon as his butt was off his seat and glared at his little brother too. Turning around to get out, he slammed straight into Puck and, wobbled backwards before Castiel grabbed his arm to settle him down. Before he could order them to move the hell out of his way, Balzathar slithered up beside them, smile wide and charming, his eyes glinting dangerously as he smoothed down his V-neck shirt. "Oh, Dean." He enthused happily, practically beaming at the elder Winchester. "All the bouncers and staff have been informed not to let your depressive ass out of here until you're drunker than a Sammy dating Ruby-"
"-Hey!-"
"-and barely coherent. Oh, and insanely happy too. Now go speak to Gabriel before he sings another god forsaken song. He promised not to sing that terrible Celine Dion one but you know how Gabriel is with promises."
"Shut up, dude." Puck hissed, elbowing Balzathar in the stomach as Dean's expression went hard - because yeah, yeah he totally knew how Gabriel was with promises, the lying son of a bitch. Gabriel had promised that he would tell him when he got accepted and where he was going (it was always a toss up between Norway, some other European country or Japan), and that they'd hang out and get Gabriel ready for it when the acceptance letter came. But Gabriel had broken that promise and just disappeared.
Gabriel had broken that promise and just left.
Ignoring the others, Dean rounded on Castiel and glared at him heatedly, wondering how someone who 'gripped him tight and saved him from depression' ten years ago (or some crap like that) could just throw him to the sharks. "You planned this?" He hissed, waving a hand to encompass the whole bar, Gabriel, everything. "How could you?!"
Castiel cocked his head to the side, looking completely unaffected by Dean's accusations, and calmly said, "You miss your best friend."
Dean, beyond drunk by now thanks to the adrenaline helping the beer rushed along through his blood, dropped his head to stare at his shoes and scuffed them against the floor. "You're my best friend."
Castiel inclined his head in calm agreement, as businesslike as he'd always been while Balz and Sammy went gooey eyed somewhere behind them and Puck snorted and burst out laughing, unable to hold his amusement back. Dean didn't know where Hummel and his Boyfriend were but maybe they were consulting with the Devil, aka Gabriel, because hell if he knew who even invited them. "You and I do share a profound bond," Castiel said agreeably, patting Dean on the shoulder in the universal sign of 'hang in there, soldier'. "But you and Gabriel have a unique relationship. Go to him and resolve your issues."
Refusing to move and do anything of the sort (he left, Gabriel left, not Dean), Dean crossed his arms across his chest defensively and held his spot until the sasquatch standing beside him rolled his eyes heavenwards and simply grabbed him by the arm, hauling him forcibly to some random direction. Dean struggled to get out of the giant's hold, willing to even slip out of his leather jacket just to break free but Puck clicked his tongue ("Oh my God!", Dean thought wildly, "Puck was Missouri in disguise!") and helped Sam drag Dean off to who knew where.
Except when Dean craned his neck and searched the area he was being dragged too, he saw Gabriel sitting at an empty booth just watching them with guarded eyes.
"See?" Dean was quick to blurt out. "He doesn't want to be here. He doesn't want this too. You guys forced him here, right? Just let me go and we'll never have to speak about this!"
The two giants (who knew Puck would get so tall, dammit), dropped him in beside Gabriel, ignoring him completely, and Sam huffed girlishly and slapped his hands together. "Right you two, hurry up, kiss and make up so we can leave."
Puck added on a derisive, "Try not to kill each other." But ultimately, the two left, leaving Dean alone with Gabriel, who fiddled awkwardly with his drink.
"So..." Yep, that sounded definitely awkward. Dean stared at Gabriel, deploying one of Cas' freaky un-blinking stares he himself had gotten good over the years imitating (always made him win in eye-staring contests), and kept quiet. "You look good?"
And because Dean was not Castiel, and could never attribute the amount of stony patience Castiel had, Dean threw his arms in the air incredulously. "Don't act friendly with me!" He burst out, pointing a finger at Gabriel, jabbing it forcefully. "Not after ten fucking years, Gabriel!"
Gabriel winced, physically recoiling from Dean at hearing his full first name. Dean only ever called him Gabriel rather than Gabe when he was seriously pissed off or angry. "I'm sorry, Dean. I really fucking am, and I don't know how to make things better."
"You can't." Dean supplied quickly. "You lost that goddamn chance a whole year after disappearing. Not even one word, Gabriel. Not one. Do you know what sort of shit I went through?"
Shaking his head, Gabriel stared down into his drink before answering. "Cas and Balz refused to tell me the details. They wanted me to call you up and find out for myself." Then he paused, swallowing thickly, and Dean watched as Gabriel's fingers tightened around his drink reflexively. "Dean... I... I knew about your Dad." Dean flinched, bodily startling backwards, and Gabriel looked up from his drink with guilty wide eyes as he rambled on. "God, I'm so sorry, Dean. I'm just so sorry."
"Then why didn't you call?" Dean mumbled, forcing himself to relax, hunching in on himself in his seat. His mouth was dry, his throat parched and all he wanted was a couple more shots thrown his way to drown his sorrows and just forget about all of this, about his whole goddamn life.
But Gabriel got his attention by slamming his hands on their table. "Because I was afraid, dammit!" He burst out, the words seemingly escaping from him and refusing to be held back. "I thought you wouldn't want to hear from me. I was a whole week late in finding out about that, and I just figured I'd already lost my chance! And then time just kept going on further and further and further and before I know it it's been four years and I just... gave up. How the hell was I supposed to call you after four years?"
Dean mumbled, "You could have. You should have. You suck."
And Gabriel grinned self-deprecatingly, mumbling back a, "Yeah, I do."
The conversation lulled into a silence, Gabriel with his drink and Dean with nothing but the table top to stare at as they mulled over their thoughts. Dean was still thirsty for a drink - alcohol was a thirst the only cure for was passing out - and was just aching for when the conversation would finish and he could go. A warm body scooted up beside him, Gabriel moving in closer, right up next to Dean, and turned in his seat to face him. Alerted by the movement, Dean tried moving back - the dig about personal space he used to throw at Castiel, sitting on his tongue - but kept his mouth closed when he saw Gabriel looking nervous. If that wasn't a neon sign to get instantly alerted somebody and snapping them from their drunken haze, Dean didn't know what was.
"Just..." Gabriel started, eyes glancing anywhere but at Dean, still scooting in closer until they were pressed up from thigh to shoulder, one long line of warmth. "Punch me or something if you don't want to, okay?"
And then, before Dean could demand what the hell Gabriel was talking about, the older Novak gentle gripped Dean by the chin, turning him until the two of them were facing each other perfectly, and, leaning in close, kissed him.
Immediately, catcalls burst out all around them, a noisy testament to just how nosy people are by nature. Dean could dimly hear Sam's horrified, "I didn't mean it literally!" and Balz yelling, "You owe me a tenner, Cas!" all gleeful, and Dean thought, 'Gabe can really kiss'.
The warm lips detached from his own, Gabriel pulling back from the far too chaste kiss, his golden eyes studied him, taking in Dean's reaction. "... Was that... okay?"
Just that. Nothing else. Just a quiet question to whether or not he was okay with this or not.
Dean had just been cheated upon by his fiancée of three years, he had nothing but bad luck for the past ten years (with money issues, grief, and the bastard that killed his parents being a main point) and Gabriel had been one of the most pinnacle points of his life, the first best friend he ever had during all those travels John used to take them on as soon as their mom died. His first honest to God, most genuine, crush that had ended up with Dean falling head over heels for a guy. But Gabriel left him - Gabriel sucked - but he was also awesome, liked to sing really gay songs, and could kiss better than anybody Dean's ever kissed, and he's kissed a lot of people.
So why the hell not?
"Okay." Dean confirmed, nodding once. He just wanted to get back to the really nice kissing but immediately found Gabriel's blinding grin as a reply really freaking nice too.
. . .
It felt like hours later that Dean struggled to open his eyes, waking up to his mouth tasting like ass and his head pounding to the rhythm of the craziest techno music ever produced. He groaned, wishing he'd never woken up, and sighed in relief when the feeling of the bed beneath him finally registered. And Jesus was the bed incredible. It felt simply divine, and comfortable, and Dean could genuinely sleep on this mattress, under the blankets, for what felt like the rest of his entire life - and not even complain.
Cracking his eyes open further as he snuggled down into the sheets, Dean peered around the room and saw that it was still dark. The cabinet beside him had a digital clock sitting up top, green neon numbers brightly proclaiming it '03:45', which sucked ass too and Dean's head hurt way too much for this, so he should really just go back to sleep. Approving of this course of action, Dean rolled over and groaned again, this time pitifully as his head spiked painfully at the movement, and smacked right into another body.
Another male body.
A short, compact, male body belonging to a golden eyed Gabriel peering at him blearily in amusement.
"Hangover?" Gabriel whispered quietly, handing him a small cup of water. Dean anchored himself up, nodded his head once for lack of anything to say, and swallowed the water down in quick gulps before dropping back onto the sheets.
Watching him with a warm look, Gabriel grinned and cocked an eyebrow. "You passed out in the taxi." He informed Dean. "The moose warned me you'd probably do that."
"Sammy?" Dean slurred, his face still smushed into the absolutely sinful pillow his head was resting on.
Gabriel's expression became fond, and talented fingers started curling into Dean's hair. "Got home safely." He answered Dean's question. "Don't worry, I made sure of it. Didn't know the brat has a cute girlfriend, though. She's way above his paygrade."
Dean's response was to stuff his face deeper in his pillow and groan pitifully once more.
The weight of a warm hand dropped in between his shoulder blades, Dean suddenly realising he was pretty much naked except for his boxers, and the hand started kneading the muscles there. The pressure wrenched a hearted moan from him that wasn't at all pitiful and Dean could hear Gabriel chuckling above him in amusement.
"Now, I distinctly remember offering to get you laid tonight." Gabriel's voice swept over Dean, low and husky. "Or last night, whatever. I hear sex is good for the soul - and hangovers."
Dean thought about it; he wasn't that easy (actually, yeah, he was), and Gabriel had freakin' abandoned him just like everybody else (he still didn't like to think of the dark years where Sam had run off to Stanford and left Dean thinking he was dead, killed by the people that had killed their parents). Gabe should have known better then that!
But he was here now, he'd apologised and Dean had a freaking hangover and could really use some rebound sex thanks to goddamn Cassie. But he didn't want to just have sex with Gabe and see him gone the next day, he didn't want that, had never wanted it, and because of it, Dean found himself about to completely call it off when Gabe started speaking;
"You know what I did in Norway?"
Fingers pressed down into a particularly knot in between the Winchester's shoulder blades as the older man spoke and Dean groaned out his, "No."
"Mythology and Lore," answered Gabriel, voice still now but now tinged with thoughtfulness. "I learned about the Greek Gods and Norse Pagan, about the people that worshipped them, and about religion and lore. But outside of that, I also taught myself about a few useful skills that would help my... certain field."
Gabriel's hands moved downwards, gliding across Dean's back, and the movement left goosebumps in their wake. "I learned how to pick pockets, how to pick locks, how to see a fake ID from a real one, and the observation of art." Those deft hands poked and prodded at the muscles on the small of his back as Gabriel continued, voice a low rumble that made Dean shudder in his place. "I learned how to forge a Picasso, a Van Gogh, bonds and dollar notes. I learned how to con, smooth talk my way past security, smooth talk my way into security, how to play a whole company out of their whole finance."
Dean muffled an embarrassed moan that escaped him with the pillow, suddenly being reminded that it wasn't his, which meant wherever they were must have been Gabriel's place. He refused to acknowledge the growing stir in his stomach, because there was no way in Hell he was getting aroused by the most bizarre dirty talk he'd ever heard. Gabriel chuckled as if he knew what he was doing anyway, and continued kneading, moving back up the expanse of flesh and to Dean's arms, pressing into the biceps rhythmically, soothingly.
"I went by the name Loki, made friends with others, had a destructive fling with a psycho chick called Kali, and accumulated more money then the Novak family, enough to have me listed as one of the top hundred riches men - if any of my financial gains had been legal, anyway."
Finally, Dean found himself able to scrounge up the necessary amount of energy required to murmur his impromptu masseuse's name. "Gabriel?" Despite himself, he was starting to feel damn curious as to why Gabriel was telling him all this.
Sighing above him, behind him, Gabriel blew out the air from his lungs with something approaching sadness. "I'm gonna get you to call me Gabe again, I swear." he promised. "And I have a job lined up here. Ever heard of Sandover Inc?"
Dean tensed, the ugly thought of 'so that's why he's here, bet he's gonna leave afterwards' gripping him and paralysing his thoughts. Gabriel didn't seem to notice, continuing to knead and press in all the right places until Dean was putty in his hands all over again, despite the growing dread replacing his lust.
"Remember Zachariah?" Gabriel asked, continuing to speak as his fingers drifted to the small of Dean's back. "My cousin with the smarmy, smug face? Can't believe that dick shares the same surname as me. Anyway, he's the acting CEO or something. And I really wanna screw him over. Right now he's off in Japan trying to open a new branch. It'll take him months before he even makes progress, so while he's gone, I want to slip the rug right out of his dumb feet and steal his company from him. Then use the money to parade around the world and maybe go to the Bahamas. You ever been to the Bahamas, Dean? It's beautiful, I hear. Thought maybe I should take you to Norway before there, show you the sights."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean finally sighed, a midge calmer than he normally would have had he not been getting the best massage of his life. "Just get to the point already. If you want a one night stand then freaking say so-"
"-I need a partner though; for the job. Someone I can trust." Gabriel interrupted him, digging into Dean's tail bone with his fingers. "And not just for this but for everything. There aren't many cons out there that are one-man capable and frankly, I know you know all a conman's tricks - hell, you even offered to teach me half the stuff back when we were in school. So how 'bout it, Dean-o? Wanna join me in my illegal but fun life?"
Dean stopped breathing, and wondered to himself if perhaps his hearing was playing tricks on him. "W-what?"
Gabriel, the bastard, snickered above him and brushed at the soft hair on Dean's nape. "No one night stand, bucko. It took me ten years but I always wanted you for longer and this time, I'm not letting you go - at all. So join me in a life of decadence? We can flaunt our criminal ways at your giant of a lawyer brother too. Oh and get Balzathar in on some of the more Ritz cons with his posh accent. Maybe Cas for when we need a cop. He'd be a good cop, all stony face and alien vibes, or maybe a bad one because of it." Gabriel rambled, something he only did when he was nervous, a surprising trait that seemed to have stayed the same despite the number of years.
The knowledge calmed Dean, reminded him that the man still pressed up against his back with his hands still as he nervously babbled was still the friend he remembered him to be. More than that, the knowledge had his heart beating double time to know his friend was still the same person he had a crush on - a crush that apparently grew stronger over the last ten years and hadn't dimmed a single bit.
"Gabriel." Dean interrupted, forcibly turning around and feeling very pleased with himself at the sight of Gabriel straddling his lap. "Where do I sign up?"
Gabriel made an adorable, "Huh?" noise, staring down at Dean with hazel-gold eyes and raised eyebrows. Dean just grinned at the reaction.
"The job." He clarified. "Sandover. Screwing that bastard Zachariah over. What would be my role?"
And Gabriel's face split into a grin. A wide, wide grin, just like the one last night after the kiss, except neither of them were drunk here (technically) and because they both knew Dean was agreeing for far more than just a con at a company. He was agreeing to everything Gabriel couldn't directly say, to everything they had to abandon for whatever reason, to something potentially real, something potentially incredible. The heady feeling that suddenly spread its root in Dean's chest had him grinning even wider, until Gabriel's features suddenly went wicked, and then the grin slipped right off Dean's face like water as Gabriel leaned down until the two of them were almost chest to chest, the older man's face face just inches from Dean's own.
"Your role, Dean-o," Gabriel breathed. "is gonna be Dean Smith, Director of Sales and Marketing, our insider."
Dean barely had enough brain cells still working despite the close contact to cock an eyebrow. "Smith? Generic and bland. Makes sense." He conceded thoughtfully. "And Director huh? Do I get my own swanky office?"
Gabriel's grin was lascivious and pure evil. "Mmhmm," he hummed, their faces so close that Dean could swear he could feel the vibrations from the simple noise travelling to his own lips and making him hunger for more. "I remember how good you were with numbers."
"And you?" Dean found himself asking, voice unconsciously imitating Gabriel's as they came out low and breathy, the darkness and shared quarters of the moment demanding intimacy.
"I'm going to be your scandal. Think you can handle me? Oh and, a few dozen paparazzi?"
Dean chuckled as realisation suddenly hit him. He knew exactly which con Gabriel was planning to pull off. He grinned, approving the idea, and even opened his mouth to say so when Gabriel's eyes suddenly flashed golden. Lips were on him before Dean could string two and two together, and Gabriel's fingers trailed a hot path up Dean's sides, making him gasp in surprise at the sensation. Gabriel didn't waste time as he took the opportunity and plunged right into the moist cavern, delving deeper and meshing their lips together like a dying man's last chance for air, drinking in the noise of surprise Dean let loose.
Dean's hands flew up to Gabriel's hip, clutching tightly on the warm skin there as the Novak's tongue reduced his brain to nothing but primal urges. The kiss was dirty, filthy in the way their tongues slid together, messy in how they barely let up to breathe before diving in for more. Gabriel's hands were all over him, massaging and stroking, thumbs sneakily moulding over the peaks of his nipple before catching them with index fingers and pinching. Retaliation was in order, so Dean let his hands move from the anchor that was Gabriel's hip and make a beeline for the older man's ass, digging his fingers into the flesh and yanking it down closer towards his own as he jerked upwards.
The move startled Gabriel into breaking off, lips bruised and swollen, glistening with saliva as Dean rutted up again, grinning smugly as Gabriel groaned in delight. The next was stronger, more purposeful as both participants pushed into it, thrusting together, boxers the only barrier between them. Dean was quickly hardening. He could feel Gabriel long and thick above him, pleasure growing with the second as ten years worth of sexual frustration exploded between them and turned into apprehension. God, he could remember the first time he'd masturbated to the thought of Gabriel, those lips and that tongue wrapping on his dick rather than whatever lollipop the frustrating teen had been eating.
Gabriel chuckled breathlessly above him, hands moving away from Dean's pectorals to his hips, stilling him with a strength belying his small frame. Dean felt himself responding immediately, opening his mouth to argue at the fact that they'd stopped but the glint in Gabriel's eyes had him realising something.
He'd spoken out loud.
And Gabriel looked victorious.
A kiss landed on his chest, a tongue flicked out over a nipple, making Dean's breath hitch and boxer briefs grow painfully tight. Gabriel just moved lower, vaguely sauntering down his chest, peppering bites and kisses, little nips on special places like the jut of Dean's hipbone, until his hot breath was fanning over the elastic of Dean's boxers. Dean knew his face was burning bright red, embarrassment at losing his brain to mouth filter warring with everything that was happening in his chest from the look on Gabriel's face; the wickedly pleased quirk to his lips, the dangerous glint to his eyes, the possessive but gentle hands gripping the elastic band and slowly dragging it down Dean's hip to expose his arousal.
Hot air blew over his cock, alighting the nerves there and forcing Dean to keep his eyes open. Gabriel glanced at him, grinned cockily, then licked his lips slow and wet before letting them rest on the tip. Two warm hands palmed his inner thighs, spreading them further apart so Gabriel could comfortably slot himself between them, making a home for himself there, but not once did he let up on the pressure of his lips right there, taunting, teasing, daring.
Dean let the seconds tick by, one, two, three, then gave a very tentative thrust of his hip.
Gabriel's lips moved further up, covering the drop of precome just barely beading up, but made no further move.
Confused but starting to maybe get a hint, Dean struggled with himself for a second before deciding to follow through, and rocked his hips again, careful not to push Gabriel off him. He chocked on air when his cock surprisingly pushed through Gabriel's suddenly slack lips, the head of his dick disappearing into a moist heat before resurfacing back again as Dean settled back, and suddenly he knew what Gabriel wanted. Surprise exchanging for a low simmering heat, Dean pushed up again, more power in his hips, and swallowed thickly as his dick went further into Gabriel's mouth, the sensation of a tongue licking over him punching a gasp out of him. Somehow, his fingers locked into the lush brown hair, weaving into it to hold on as Dean let himself enjoy Gabriel's mouth, full out moaning when Gabriel's pleased hum vibrated along his manhood.
The moist heat had him distracted enough to not hear the sound of something popping open but it couldn't distract him from feeling the finger covered in cold liquid suddenly at his entrance. Flinching at the cold, Dean cursed, quieting down as Gabriel used his free hand to rub soothingly at his hip in apology, and fully relaxed fully Gabriel finally moved his hand and dropped down onto his cock, deep throating him as a lubed finger nudged in and entered him.
Gabriel kept at it, humming at random moments as his finger curled inside Dean, then eased it out only to replace it with two. The ache barely registered to Dean, too busy panting as Gabriel found his prostrate and rubbed against it while vibrating around his cock. Before Dean knew it, three fingers were in him and stretching him apart. His thighs were pushed further apart, knees bent so his feet planted firmly on the sheets. Gabriel continued fingering him, making sure he was loose and ready, continually assaulting Dean's prostrate until he finally dragged them out, rising off Dean's dick with a dirty pop.
"Okay?"
Stretching himself out on the bed, Dean nodded down once at Gabriel, and purred when the smaller man slithered up his body and deftly licked into his mouth. The warm body blanketing his own felt amazing, so amazing in fact he made a sound of protest when Gabriel climbed off him and stretched to dig around in his jeans. It became obvious what he was searching for when Gabriel cheered and held up a condom, fitting himself against Dean's back again with an odd chuckle at Dean's frustrated huff. Gabriel lined himself up and nudged in, kept kissing him through it, letting himself in inch by inch until he bottomed, hip pressing up snugly against Dean's ass. Cursing, Dean let his head drop back down onto the pillow, letting himself adjust to the intrusion as he stared up at the ceiling. Gabriel let him have a few moments, carefully working a hickey on Dean's neck until Dean rolled his hips and let loose an explosive, "Move."
Despite his personality, Gabriel moved slowly, drawing out then pushing in, repeating the movements carefully and precisely. He didn't speed up an inch, changing the angle with each thrust until Dean seized up and moaned, keeping at it until Dean was nothing but a writhing mess beneath him.
"I hated my life," Gabriel groaned, dropping his head to rest on Dean's shoulder, whispering into his ear, "and I hated that school."
Dean responded with a frank, "Fuck you," sinking his teeth into the expanse of shoulder in front of him, worrying the skin as Gabriel jolted and thrusted hard into him. "You weren't the only one with a- fuck- a- a shitty life."
One of them moaned but Gabriel couldn't tell as he dropped a hand between them to grip Dean's erection, stroking in time with his thrusts. "No," he breathed, rising up to look down at the image Dean made, spread out on his bed as he was. "I wasn't. But I hated everything, everything except you. And I was so sure I couldn't have you."
"I kissed you," Dean whined, head thrown back at a particularly brutal thrust. "I kissed you and you- you left."
Gabriel felt himself at the edge, teetering so close to danger, and quickened his stroking. "I thought it was a mistake. I thought you were straight."
Dean laughed breathlessly, urging Gabriel on as he felt himself about to come. Gabriel leaned down, tightening his hand around him, and groaned his name. Dean felt himself tightening up, muscles straining as he arched off the bed as he came, and somewhere in the haze of his orgasm he could hear Gabriel moaning above him. The rush of pleasure crested and fell, letting Dean drop back down onto the bed and catch his breath. Gabriel rolled off him to the side, snuggling in almost immediately and curling around Dean's spent body.
"How was I supposed to know you had the hots for me?" Gabriel whined, planting his face in the crook between Dean's neck and shoulder. "Not fair."
Breathing in deep and letting it out on an exhale, Dean stared up at the ceiling and asked the one question that had been bugging him. "Why today? Why come today, of all days? Because of Cassie?"
A hum answered him, hot breath fanning onto his already heated skin. "Nope. Didn't know 'bout her until I'd arrived. I just... heard that song you sang at McKingley High's Glee Club, and... it reminded me of you. I never stopped..." he trailed off, a hot palm sliding over Dean's chest to rest on his heart, and Dean sighed, relaxing fully into the bed and Gabriel.
"Yeah," he heard himself say anyway, deciding a few more hours of sleep were in order. "Okay."
THE END