Fic: Supernatural - What You're Looking For
Title: What You're Looking For (Has Been Here the Whole Time)
Prompt: Sam/Gabriel, Wacky Marriage Proposal!
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Gabriel, Dean, Castiel (implied!Dean/Castiel)
Rating: PG
Warnings: cheesiness
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Kripke's toys to play with in my sandbox for a while.
Word Count: ~2300
Author's Note: DAMMIT x_shorty1013_x , WHY DO YOU ALWAYS COME UP WITH THE MOST AMAZING PROMPTS EVER???
Cas pops into the room just as Dean's tumbling out of bed and Sam's brushing his teeth, eliciting a shocked yelp from Sam and a drowsy but undeniably happy "Hey, Cas" from Dean. Castiel nods curtly at him but doesn't move from his spot, which in itself is weird because he would usually be crowding Dean's personal space (the last time Sam checked, the record for the shortest amount of time it took the newly restored angel to do that was 0.2 seconds) and staring soulfully into his eyes by now. But nope, today Cas has apparently decided he'd much rather shift his intense gaze on Sam instead.
"Um, Cas?" prompts Dean, clearly as confused as Sam is about this new development. Sam could swear there's a thin layer of hurt in his voice and cringes. The last thing he needs is his brother to get into an epic lovers' spat with his angel... and they haven't even begun dating yet, which is what makes this whole thing even more pathetic than it already is.
Cas clears his throat. "Let us go see a movie today," he declares awkwardly, his voice not natural at all. It's like he'd rehearsed this line before but still doesn't know the rest of his cues.
Sam exchanges a look with his brother. Okay, this has officially gone from weird but hey, what else did you expect from an emotionally stunted angel of the Lord to really, really, possibly of the supernatural variety weird. "Er, not that we mind, but why?" asks Dean, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.
Cas shuffles his feet and looks away, a sure sign that he's got something up his sleeve. "Just... because." He leaves it at that, because apparently he's regressed to the age of ten and doesn't want to elaborate.
"Cas, if there's something wrong... "
The angel suddenly whips his head back up and levels them with a look. "Please meet me at the Silver Dollar cinema in an hour." Before either Sam or Dean can say anything, the angel's gone, like he was never there at all.
*
After nearly ten minutes of debating, they decide to acquiesce Cas's arrangement, if for no other reason than to get to the bottom of this mystery. Dean's in a foul mood and for the first time, Sam doesn't tease him for putting Johnny Cash on, which is what he usually does when he's upset about something.
The Silver Dollar is the town's only theater. It's old and debilitating but looks like it still functions so they head in anyway. It looks as if the entire town's shown up for whatever movie just came out, because the lobby's completely crowded with a sea of people. "Oh good, you made it," says Cas from somewhere to Sam's left.
He will retain that he did not jump and scream like the little girl Dean accused him of being until his dying day. "Alright, Cas, we're here, what's going on?" barks Dean, storming up to Cas.
He swallows and pointedly avoids Dean's gaze. "I have your tickets." When Dean's gaze doesn't let up, he swallows again and loosens his tie. "I'm sorry," is all he offers before vanishing again, leaving behind two tickets in Dean's pocket.
Dean mutters something about 'stupid cryptic dicks with wings' under his breath. He glances at the ticket before grunting and heading to the ticket stand. Sam follows behind quietly.
*
When the cinema attendant sees Sam, her eyes glaze over and for a minute, Sam's afraid she's possessed but then she's smiling brightly at him, showing off her snow white teeth, and he doesn't get any 'this girl is evil!' pings, exactly. "My love, there's only you in my life, the only thing that's right," she sings at Sam when he--albeit, hesitantly--hands his ticket to her.
"Um, excuse me?" he asks, eyes wide in disbelief. Meanwhile, Dean is guffawing and being of no help. At all. Jerk.
"Oh yes, you will always be my endless loooooove," she goes on. By the time she's done pretending that she's Lionel Ritchie, she's acquired an audience that consists of everyone else in the fucking cinema that applauds wildly. "Yeah, tell it to him, girl!" one of them shouts and Sam has to fight down a shudder.
The girl's still smiling and it's actually getting kind of creepy now. As if the singing hadn't been enough. "Enjoy the show!" she chirps. Sam gets the fuck away from her as fast as he can and doesn't slow down until he's at Dean's side again. Dean, the jerk, actually has tears in his eyes.
"Oh man, Sammy, that was great. Gotta hand it to your boyfriend, he's got one hell of an imagination alright."
Sam narrows his eyes. "Gabriel? Where the hell did you get the idea from?" He doesn't deny, as he usually does, that Gabriel's his boyfriend. It sounds too childish for his liking but he knows he'll never be able to convince Dean otherwise.
Dean smirks and pulls out his ticket. There's a distinct chocolate stain on it. "It didn't click until after that chick started serenading you."
Sam groans. "Gabriel," he hisses, "what the hell are you playing at?"
When they don't get a response, Dean simply shrugs and suggests they play along. "So far, this is turning out to be a pretty fun day," he points out, still smirking like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. Sam glares at him but says nothing. He follows Dean to the concession stands to get popcorn.
He should've realized Gabriel wasn't quite done with them when they reach the counter and the guy behind it, a short pimpled teenager with wild red hair, gasps when he sees them. "Wait one moment, please," he says before they can make their order, much less say anything, then dashes into what Sam previously assumed was the storage closet. He reappears not a few seconds later with a fucking champagne bottle in hand. He carefully presents it to Sam, like it's the Nobel Prize or something. "Don't open it yet," he cautions. Then, just like the girl at the ticket stand, he's all smiles. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
"Yeah," says Dean, fighting hard to keep from laughing again, "just a large popcorn and a Coke."
*
Somehow, they make it into their theater without anyone else stopping them--Sam, really--and serenading him or giving him anymore booze. He's not sure whether he should be relieved or frightened. Knowing Gabriel, he knows he should probably be afraid. Very afraid. Even after they started dating just a little over a year ago.
Once they settle down in their seats, at the very top at the far right, Sam turns to Dean and asks, "Today isn't Valentine's Day, right?"
Dean shakes his head. "Nah, that was two months ago, remember?" He shudders. "I remember this specifically because you kicked me out of the room for the whole day and when I came back, you still hadn't gotten all the whip cream off your hair. Sam, as much as I love you, you have to realize there's only so much about your sex life that I actually want to know about. And by that, I mean none of it at all."
Sam blushes but all he can say to that is, "Right back at you."
Dean, on the other hand, looks smug, obviously remembering all the times Sam accidentally walked in on him and his conquest of the night. "Well, it's not your anniversary either, because that was five months ago, when you--"
"Okay, okay, I get it," says Sam, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment.
They're spared from talking about Sam's love life any longer when the theater lights dim and the screen flashes on.
Except, instead of the pre-show commercials, there's Gabriel's face right there on the big screen. Sam would give anything for someone to kill him now and spare him the inevitable torture. Dean, though, has started munching on his popcorn, his eyes riveted on the screen. "Hel-loooo, Sammy! How're you today?"
"Just swell, thanks," he mutters under his breath.
"That's great to hear!" Gabriel-on-the-screen replies. "But you know what'll be even better?"
"You not getting any for a month... at least."
Gabriel's lips twitch at that but he continues anyway, undeterred. "I'm talking about a show! Hit it, guys and gals!" He snaps his fingers and suddenly, to Sam's complete and utter horror, everyone in the theater--including Dean, who stops laughing and looks drastically more miffed about this whole thing than he was earlier--stands up and marches to the empty area in front of the screen, which had suddenly morphed into a wooden stage.
Sam sinks as low as he can in his seat and prays to God--any god, actually--to kill him now.
"A one... a two... and a one, two, three!" Music begins to flow from the speakers, accompanied by Gabriel's voice, while the performers begin to dance. They all look as if they're having a grand time. Except for Dean. He just looks like he's ready to either shoot himself or Gabriel.
My darling, I can't get enough of your love babe
Girl, I don't know, I don't know why
Can't get enough of your love babe
Oh, some things I can't get used to
No matter how I try
Just like the more you give, the more I want
And baby, that's no lie
Oh no, babe
Well, at least Sam can safely say that if there's one thing Gabriel isn't, it's Barry White. But he has to give him credit, he's not too horrible a singer, though he suspects it's mostly to do with his archangel powers.
The torture lasts for a grand total of four minutes and thirty-five seconds before the screen turns black and the performers line up in a straight line, beginning the trek up the stairs straight towards where Sam's sitting. One by one, they present him a flower each (where they got them is anyone's guess). Red and white carnations, chrysanthemums--also red and white, hyacinths of all colors, daisies, and to top it all off with a rather distressed looking Dean, a single red rose.
"Dean, what's going on?" Sam whispers after Dean tosses the flower in the giant bouquet in his arms. It takes a lot of effort just to see over the flowers, and that's saying something considering Sam's size.
Dean grunts, "How the hell should I know? Ask your boyfriend."
As if on cue--it probably is, Sam decides--Gabriel's face pops back up on the screen, smirking evilly. "So, Sam! How do you like the flowers?"
Sam goes quiet and actually has to think about it. He doesn't know much about the language of flowers--the fact that he knows anything about it is kind of embarrassing in and that of itself, but that's only because his last girlfriend before Jess was crazy about it--but it wasn't until Dean's rose that it all clicked into place.
All the flowers symbolize love in some way except for the hyacinths, which represents playfulness. "They're... " Sam's truly dumbstruck now. After all, how do you respond to something like this?
"Sam," says Gabriel, all serious now, drawing his attention back to the big screen. "in case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of crazy about you."
Sam laughs even as he feels his cheeks heat up. "Yeah, I know," he says fondly.
Dean makes a gagging sound and Sam ignores him when he mutters, "God, I'm gonna throw up."
"So," continues Gabriel, also ignoring Dean, "I wanted to do something about that." Sam raises a brow but says nothing, allowing Gabriel to go on. "Now without further adieu, I have an important question to ask." He snaps his fingers and suddenly the screen goes completely white and Gabriel's face is replaced by the sparkly pink words:
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
The entire theater goes dead quiet and Sam can feel fifty pairs of eyes on him. Even Dean looks completely baffled. Sam just stares, then takes a deep shuddering breath before whispering, his voice echoing deafeningly in the theater, "Yes, you big lump, yes."
The theater explodes with applause and whistles. Dean gapes at him like a goldfish, unaware of Cas popping into existence at his side until he places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps with a yelp until he realizes who it is, then he relaxes, but only slightly.
Gabriel pops up right in front of Sam, grinning like he'd just won the universal lottery. He actually gets down on one knee and holds up a small, velvet black box, opening it to reveal a simple but gorgeous ring inside. "Thought I'd do this the traditional way," he says, slipping the ring in Sam's ring finger and taking the champagne bottle (Sam had honestly forgotten it was in his hand the whole time) and popping it open.
Sam laughs and leans down to kiss him. "Gabriel, nothing about this has been traditional."
But in all honesty, he doesn't really mind.
Prompt: Sam/Gabriel, Wacky Marriage Proposal!
Characters/Pairing: Sam/Gabriel, Dean, Castiel (implied!Dean/Castiel)
Rating: PG
Warnings: cheesiness
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Kripke's toys to play with in my sandbox for a while.
Word Count: ~2300
Author's Note: DAMMIT x_shorty1013_x , WHY DO YOU ALWAYS COME UP WITH THE MOST AMAZING PROMPTS EVER???
Cas pops into the room just as Dean's tumbling out of bed and Sam's brushing his teeth, eliciting a shocked yelp from Sam and a drowsy but undeniably happy "Hey, Cas" from Dean. Castiel nods curtly at him but doesn't move from his spot, which in itself is weird because he would usually be crowding Dean's personal space (the last time Sam checked, the record for the shortest amount of time it took the newly restored angel to do that was 0.2 seconds) and staring soulfully into his eyes by now. But nope, today Cas has apparently decided he'd much rather shift his intense gaze on Sam instead.
"Um, Cas?" prompts Dean, clearly as confused as Sam is about this new development. Sam could swear there's a thin layer of hurt in his voice and cringes. The last thing he needs is his brother to get into an epic lovers' spat with his angel... and they haven't even begun dating yet, which is what makes this whole thing even more pathetic than it already is.
Cas clears his throat. "Let us go see a movie today," he declares awkwardly, his voice not natural at all. It's like he'd rehearsed this line before but still doesn't know the rest of his cues.
Sam exchanges a look with his brother. Okay, this has officially gone from weird but hey, what else did you expect from an emotionally stunted angel of the Lord to really, really, possibly of the supernatural variety weird. "Er, not that we mind, but why?" asks Dean, eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion.
Cas shuffles his feet and looks away, a sure sign that he's got something up his sleeve. "Just... because." He leaves it at that, because apparently he's regressed to the age of ten and doesn't want to elaborate.
"Cas, if there's something wrong... "
The angel suddenly whips his head back up and levels them with a look. "Please meet me at the Silver Dollar cinema in an hour." Before either Sam or Dean can say anything, the angel's gone, like he was never there at all.
*
After nearly ten minutes of debating, they decide to acquiesce Cas's arrangement, if for no other reason than to get to the bottom of this mystery. Dean's in a foul mood and for the first time, Sam doesn't tease him for putting Johnny Cash on, which is what he usually does when he's upset about something.
The Silver Dollar is the town's only theater. It's old and debilitating but looks like it still functions so they head in anyway. It looks as if the entire town's shown up for whatever movie just came out, because the lobby's completely crowded with a sea of people. "Oh good, you made it," says Cas from somewhere to Sam's left.
He will retain that he did not jump and scream like the little girl Dean accused him of being until his dying day. "Alright, Cas, we're here, what's going on?" barks Dean, storming up to Cas.
He swallows and pointedly avoids Dean's gaze. "I have your tickets." When Dean's gaze doesn't let up, he swallows again and loosens his tie. "I'm sorry," is all he offers before vanishing again, leaving behind two tickets in Dean's pocket.
Dean mutters something about 'stupid cryptic dicks with wings' under his breath. He glances at the ticket before grunting and heading to the ticket stand. Sam follows behind quietly.
*
When the cinema attendant sees Sam, her eyes glaze over and for a minute, Sam's afraid she's possessed but then she's smiling brightly at him, showing off her snow white teeth, and he doesn't get any 'this girl is evil!' pings, exactly. "My love, there's only you in my life, the only thing that's right," she sings at Sam when he--albeit, hesitantly--hands his ticket to her.
"Um, excuse me?" he asks, eyes wide in disbelief. Meanwhile, Dean is guffawing and being of no help. At all. Jerk.
"Oh yes, you will always be my endless loooooove," she goes on. By the time she's done pretending that she's Lionel Ritchie, she's acquired an audience that consists of everyone else in the fucking cinema that applauds wildly. "Yeah, tell it to him, girl!" one of them shouts and Sam has to fight down a shudder.
The girl's still smiling and it's actually getting kind of creepy now. As if the singing hadn't been enough. "Enjoy the show!" she chirps. Sam gets the fuck away from her as fast as he can and doesn't slow down until he's at Dean's side again. Dean, the jerk, actually has tears in his eyes.
"Oh man, Sammy, that was great. Gotta hand it to your boyfriend, he's got one hell of an imagination alright."
Sam narrows his eyes. "Gabriel? Where the hell did you get the idea from?" He doesn't deny, as he usually does, that Gabriel's his boyfriend. It sounds too childish for his liking but he knows he'll never be able to convince Dean otherwise.
Dean smirks and pulls out his ticket. There's a distinct chocolate stain on it. "It didn't click until after that chick started serenading you."
Sam groans. "Gabriel," he hisses, "what the hell are you playing at?"
When they don't get a response, Dean simply shrugs and suggests they play along. "So far, this is turning out to be a pretty fun day," he points out, still smirking like the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland. Sam glares at him but says nothing. He follows Dean to the concession stands to get popcorn.
He should've realized Gabriel wasn't quite done with them when they reach the counter and the guy behind it, a short pimpled teenager with wild red hair, gasps when he sees them. "Wait one moment, please," he says before they can make their order, much less say anything, then dashes into what Sam previously assumed was the storage closet. He reappears not a few seconds later with a fucking champagne bottle in hand. He carefully presents it to Sam, like it's the Nobel Prize or something. "Don't open it yet," he cautions. Then, just like the girl at the ticket stand, he's all smiles. "Is there anything else I can get you?"
"Yeah," says Dean, fighting hard to keep from laughing again, "just a large popcorn and a Coke."
*
Somehow, they make it into their theater without anyone else stopping them--Sam, really--and serenading him or giving him anymore booze. He's not sure whether he should be relieved or frightened. Knowing Gabriel, he knows he should probably be afraid. Very afraid. Even after they started dating just a little over a year ago.
Once they settle down in their seats, at the very top at the far right, Sam turns to Dean and asks, "Today isn't Valentine's Day, right?"
Dean shakes his head. "Nah, that was two months ago, remember?" He shudders. "I remember this specifically because you kicked me out of the room for the whole day and when I came back, you still hadn't gotten all the whip cream off your hair. Sam, as much as I love you, you have to realize there's only so much about your sex life that I actually want to know about. And by that, I mean none of it at all."
Sam blushes but all he can say to that is, "Right back at you."
Dean, on the other hand, looks smug, obviously remembering all the times Sam accidentally walked in on him and his conquest of the night. "Well, it's not your anniversary either, because that was five months ago, when you--"
"Okay, okay, I get it," says Sam, burying his face in his hands in embarrassment.
They're spared from talking about Sam's love life any longer when the theater lights dim and the screen flashes on.
Except, instead of the pre-show commercials, there's Gabriel's face right there on the big screen. Sam would give anything for someone to kill him now and spare him the inevitable torture. Dean, though, has started munching on his popcorn, his eyes riveted on the screen. "Hel-loooo, Sammy! How're you today?"
"Just swell, thanks," he mutters under his breath.
"That's great to hear!" Gabriel-on-the-screen replies. "But you know what'll be even better?"
"You not getting any for a month... at least."
Gabriel's lips twitch at that but he continues anyway, undeterred. "I'm talking about a show! Hit it, guys and gals!" He snaps his fingers and suddenly, to Sam's complete and utter horror, everyone in the theater--including Dean, who stops laughing and looks drastically more miffed about this whole thing than he was earlier--stands up and marches to the empty area in front of the screen, which had suddenly morphed into a wooden stage.
Sam sinks as low as he can in his seat and prays to God--any god, actually--to kill him now.
"A one... a two... and a one, two, three!" Music begins to flow from the speakers, accompanied by Gabriel's voice, while the performers begin to dance. They all look as if they're having a grand time. Except for Dean. He just looks like he's ready to either shoot himself or Gabriel.
My darling, I can't get enough of your love babe
Girl, I don't know, I don't know why
Can't get enough of your love babe
Oh, some things I can't get used to
No matter how I try
Just like the more you give, the more I want
And baby, that's no lie
Oh no, babe
Well, at least Sam can safely say that if there's one thing Gabriel isn't, it's Barry White. But he has to give him credit, he's not too horrible a singer, though he suspects it's mostly to do with his archangel powers.
The torture lasts for a grand total of four minutes and thirty-five seconds before the screen turns black and the performers line up in a straight line, beginning the trek up the stairs straight towards where Sam's sitting. One by one, they present him a flower each (where they got them is anyone's guess). Red and white carnations, chrysanthemums--also red and white, hyacinths of all colors, daisies, and to top it all off with a rather distressed looking Dean, a single red rose.
"Dean, what's going on?" Sam whispers after Dean tosses the flower in the giant bouquet in his arms. It takes a lot of effort just to see over the flowers, and that's saying something considering Sam's size.
Dean grunts, "How the hell should I know? Ask your boyfriend."
As if on cue--it probably is, Sam decides--Gabriel's face pops back up on the screen, smirking evilly. "So, Sam! How do you like the flowers?"
Sam goes quiet and actually has to think about it. He doesn't know much about the language of flowers--the fact that he knows anything about it is kind of embarrassing in and that of itself, but that's only because his last girlfriend before Jess was crazy about it--but it wasn't until Dean's rose that it all clicked into place.
All the flowers symbolize love in some way except for the hyacinths, which represents playfulness. "They're... " Sam's truly dumbstruck now. After all, how do you respond to something like this?
"Sam," says Gabriel, all serious now, drawing his attention back to the big screen. "in case you haven't noticed, I'm kind of crazy about you."
Sam laughs even as he feels his cheeks heat up. "Yeah, I know," he says fondly.
Dean makes a gagging sound and Sam ignores him when he mutters, "God, I'm gonna throw up."
"So," continues Gabriel, also ignoring Dean, "I wanted to do something about that." Sam raises a brow but says nothing, allowing Gabriel to go on. "Now without further adieu, I have an important question to ask." He snaps his fingers and suddenly the screen goes completely white and Gabriel's face is replaced by the sparkly pink words:
WILL YOU MARRY ME?
The entire theater goes dead quiet and Sam can feel fifty pairs of eyes on him. Even Dean looks completely baffled. Sam just stares, then takes a deep shuddering breath before whispering, his voice echoing deafeningly in the theater, "Yes, you big lump, yes."
The theater explodes with applause and whistles. Dean gapes at him like a goldfish, unaware of Cas popping into existence at his side until he places a hand on his shoulder. He jumps with a yelp until he realizes who it is, then he relaxes, but only slightly.
Gabriel pops up right in front of Sam, grinning like he'd just won the universal lottery. He actually gets down on one knee and holds up a small, velvet black box, opening it to reveal a simple but gorgeous ring inside. "Thought I'd do this the traditional way," he says, slipping the ring in Sam's ring finger and taking the champagne bottle (Sam had honestly forgotten it was in his hand the whole time) and popping it open.
Sam laughs and leans down to kiss him. "Gabriel, nothing about this has been traditional."
But in all honesty, he doesn't really mind.