Debriel_Mini Fic: Don't Ever Look Back [Part 3/3]
Don't Ever Look Back, Part Three (PG-13), Dean/Gabriel
Go back to Part Two
On Saturday, he wakes up with a massive hangover.
That’s the first clue that something’s wrong.
He vaguely remembers Thursday, but that was cloaked in a haze of pain thanks to all the Firewhiskey he drank on Valentine’s Day.
Friday was still horrible - Gabriel couldn’t even remember much of Valentine’s Day, but the image of Dean and Castiel was seared into his brain and flashing before his eyes all through Friday. He’s not entirely sure what Crowley made him do. Hell, maybe that’s how he got the massive hangover.
Gabriel stumbles out of bed, almost smashing his forehead into his bedside table (and when did he get into bed?), and the world wavers and spins. He feels sour, acidic bile rush up his throat and into his mouth, and hurriedly swallows it down. The aftertaste is horrible, like beer and fire and underwear, and he thinks he may have to puke because of what he just did.
There’s someone having a party in his brain, and there’s an entire marching band and one of those bands Dean likes playing two songs, and the separate melodies clash in the background, making it just meaningless noise. And obviously the people are made of metal, because they’re pounding on his brain, smashing it to grey goo.
Party… oh shit. Gabriel’s pretty sure Crowley gave him some Muggle thing called Scotch and told him it is the best thing he’ll ever drink. And Gabriel drank it. Crowley is a horrible teacher. Horrible.
Gabriel groans, the taste of bile still lingering in his mouth, his throat burning. He slumps back to his silver and green bed, deciding to screw breakfast. He closes his eyes.
…And opens them to see Balthazar’s smug face floating above him, smirking happily. It’s another clue as to why this day will definitely suck donkey balls. Gabriel hates these clues.
“Gabe-y.” Balthazar laughs, “You up now?”
“What time is it?” Gabriel mumbles, the inside of his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.
“Oh, just noon,” Balthazar says airily, waving an unconcerned hand.
“Oh, if it’s just that,” Gabriel replies sarcastically. He still has a hangover, he notes gloomily.
“And you’ll love this,” Balthazar continues gleefully, apparently oblivious to Gabriel’s previous remark. “Winchester? He wasn’t in the Great Hall for breakfast or lunch. Like you.”
Now that grabs Gabriel’s attention, “Why not?”
The blond boy shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe he went on a bender and stayed home too hung-over to move also.”
Gabriel scowls, “I hope so.”
Balthazar frowns this time, “Okay, really. What did Winchester do to you?”
Gabriel sighs, deciding that his head hurts too much for him to protest. “It was … dysfunctional, okay? He knows everything about me, I know next to nothing about him. It couldn’t work out. Plus,” he adds bitterly, “I saw him on his bed with Milton.”
The other boy raises his eyebrow, “Castiel Milton,” he says, obviously looking for some kind of answer. Gabriel personally thinks it’s pretty obvious it’s Castiel Milton.
“Who else?”
Balthazar nods slowly, “Right. I need to go… get ready and,” he gestures wildly to Gabriel, then his trunk, then at the door. “Yeah.”
He turns and rushes out of the room, leaving Gabriel confused and still with a pounding headache.
Dean isn’t there the entire day, and he’s missing the entire Saturday, then Sunday, then the entire next week. Gabriel even swallows his pride and asks Crowley what’s going on; because the last time Dean went AWOL he landed himself in the hospital.
“I don’t know, and if I did I won’t tell you,” Crowley had said, “Go back to your work.”
Freaking patronising bastard.
On Monday, when Dean still isn’t there, Gabriel decides to swallow even more of his pride and go ask Tessa. So he parks himself in front of the Head Girl’s room, waits until it opens and she comes out.
“What do you want?” she asks coldly. She looks tired, her normally perfectly styled hair messy, robes slightly rumpled. Still, she manages to maintain her usual intimidating sense of power surrounding her.
Gabriel is quite frankly taken aback at her coolness - he’s only exchanged a few words with her, at the beginning of the year and some awkward moments at the morning when sneaking out of Dean’s room. He'd done nothing to piss her off, as far as he knew.
“Where’s Dean?” he asks bluntly, because his brain to mouth filter was never fully functional in the first place.
“He’s out,” Tessa says shortly.
“…Where?”
Tessa looks at him like he’s crazy, “How should I know?” She splutters, “All I know is that Dumbledore told me that Dean had to go somewhere, and then poof! He’s gone. And I get all of his rounds!”
“Right. Well, thanks anyway.” Gabriel thinks back to his personal experiences on what sleep deprivation mixed with stress does to some people. He doesn’t like what he remembers. “I’ll go.”
He runs out, wondering if Milton is here or with Dean. Nah, Gabriel won’t ask him. He still has his pride.
Turns out it doesn’t really matter, because Milton isn’t there - only Sam. So, of course, Gabriel goes to Sam, because who actually need their pride?
Sam sees Gabriel approaching, sends him a look of pure hatred, and the next thing Gabriel knows, Sam is gone.
Great. Fantastic.
And why are all of Dean’s friends all glaring at him? Tessa he gets, and okay, yeah, there’s the whole friend bias thing, but Dean cheated on Gabriel, and Dean has friends who doesn’t hate Gabriel. Hopefully.
Gabriel sighs, goes back to the Slytherin table. There, Balthazar is waiting for him.
And he’s bringing a friend.
“What are you doing here?” Gabriel spats rudely. The man besides Balthazar glares back at Gabriel, eyes as frosty and cold as the Russian winter.
“Believe me, I don’t want to be here either,” Castiel snorts back. Balthazar rolls his eyes.
“Castiel here would like to clear something up.”
“Dean and I aren’t fornicating,” Castiel announces, and Gabriel blinks because who the hell even says ‘fornicating’?
“Why should I believe you?” Gabriel challenges. Evidence of Dean and Castiel’s fornication seems so very obvious, and every single person in Hogwarts have sworn at least once that Castiel has a humongous crush on Dean, and apparently every single person in Hogwarts had a crush on Dean once, which is completely Dean’s fault for being so attractive. Well, except that Ravenclaw Becky Rosen, who thinks Sam and Dean are having sex and Sam is hotter. It could have grounds if it isn’t for the fact that Sam Winchester is thirteen, for Merlin’s sake.
Gabriel shakes off the rambling thoughts and glowers at Castiel. Who says the word fornicating and invades people’s personal space and Gabriel does not like.
“Because Cassie and I have been going out, and fornicating regularly,” Balthazar grins lecherously, oblivious to Gabriel’s mental ramble.
Wow. So Balthazar wasn’t lying about the dates. And also, ew! Gabriel does not need to know that.
“Really?” Gabriel blurts sceptically. Possible evidence of Dean/Castiel fornication hangs stubbornly in his mind. Balthazar pretends to look wounded.
“Don’t you trust me?”
Castiel cuts in because he has a huge stick straight up his arse and doesn’t know how to have fun. “Now that we have established Balthazar and my nightly activities, you should apologise to Dean for not trusting him.”
Not trusting him? Gabriel’s jaw drops open. “Look,” he tries to be calm, “I may have jumped to conclusions, but I still have a point. Dean didn’t tell me anything -”
“He couldn’t,” Castiel’s voice rises, “His father wouldn’t let him -”
“What, is he his father’s bitch?” Gabriel jeers.
Castiel’s top lip peels back into a snarl, “Don’t you dare call Dean his father’s -”
“Okay!” Balthazar cuts in, “Dean’s back. Gabe, just go and talk to him.” And with that, Castiel seemingly disappears into the crowd.
Gabriel takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, first once, then again, and again.
A click, then the heavy mahogany door opens. Emerald green eyes peek out, and then it’s open completely.
“What do you want?” Dean demands.
Gabriel licks his lips, “I heard you’re back.”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Milton told me you’re not doing him.”
“No, I’m not.”
Gabriel nods. “Can I come in?”
Dean steps back, leaving room for Gabriel to step through. So he does, and the room looks exactly the same. He feels a brief pang of sadness.
“I’m an idiot.” The words spill from his lips without a thought. Dean’s face softens, and the barest hint of a smile appears.
“Sit,” he nods to the bed. Gabriel complies, and Dean follows him.
Dean takes a deep breath, “When I was four, my mom died in a house fire. Only it was more than that - she was killed. Murdered. By a demon.”
Gabriel sucks in a breath. Demons - they are legends in the Wizarding World. Sure, they exist, but no one’s seen any of them.
“My Dad wants to kill the Demon, so he trained us like soldiers. I don’t know why Dumbledore wanted me to go to Hogwarts so bad… but I have a feeling that I will figure out why later.” He bites his bottom lip. “Sammy, my Dad and I… we're hunters.” Dean stops, watching Gabriel warily.
Hunters, like demons, are legends. Only not any more, it seems. Just like demons, they don’t exactly have a good reputation - they are the monster under the wizarding kid’s beds, the person who will kill you if you don’t do something right, or if you break the Statue of Secrecy. They are the ones that murder innocent five year olds who made just a tiny burst of magic. Hunters are feared and hated. To be a hunter will either result in shock, anger, fear, ridicule, or something worse … like death. After all, hunters are Muggles, and most wizards don’t take Muggles slaying wizards well.
“Okay,” Gabriel says steadily, surprising even himself.
“You’re okay with that?” Dean is incredulous.
“I don’t care as long as you don’t kill me,” Gabriel shrugs.
Dean snorts. “Like hell.”
He regards Gabriel with eyes years older than the rest of him, and makes a decision. “My father’s name is John. John Winchester. He’s a hero.”
Gabriel nods.
“So,” Dean’s lips quirk up, “We okay?”
“Why doesn’t Sam and Cas like me?” Gabriel asks.
“Your pranks, Gabe,” Dean rolls his eyes, “to them, it’s stupid and insensitive. Plus, remember that week where you jinxed me so I’d have nightmares about my death every day? That was traumatising. They still haven’t gotten over it, even though I have. Also, your family’s reputation.”
Okay, so that prank was a little out of hand. Still, it was funny. Or at least Gabriel thinks it’s funny. There’s still something, though.
“What the hell were you and Castiel doing?” It’s the one thing that’s been bugging Gabriel the most.
“My dad … it was the day that my mother died. And then he sent me this drunk message. It wasn’t very much, but … he was drunk, you know? But it hurt.”
“You don’t look like the kind who needs help. And why on the bed?”
“Cas is a pushy bastard,” Dean mumbles, “He pushed me down and started very firmly explaining why one doesn't listen to drunk people."
Gabriel gaps. Great, now he really feels like an idiot.
“I thought he was holding you down for a completely different reason.”
“I know,” Dean replies drily. “And when I was gone - Dad got hurt in a hunt. Wendigo - I went to see him. Before, that was Castiel telling me it’s fine to leave Sammy alone.” Gabriel lov -really likes Dean, really, but Dean and Sam are so freakishly, unhealthily co-dependent it makes a bit of Gabriel worry and most of him gag.
Dean’s silent. It’s Gabriel’s turn now.
“Look, I’m an idiot with trust issues. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything. But Dad said that I shouldn’t, and I know from experience that anyone who tries ends up in a padded cell, and the attitude here about hunters is horrible.” Dean says defensively. Then a look crosses his face, and it says that he can’t believe he just said that.
“I’m not. And I’m sorry about that one new death each day prank,” Gabriel replies. It doesn’t really bother him - he knows if Dean is just a Muggle, and Gabriel is in his position, he would say the exact thing. Except he hopefully would be substituting ‘hunter’ to ‘wizard’. Like oh hey boyfriend I’m a wizard and that’s why I’m such a secretive bastard. Okay maybe not like that.
Dean shrugs, “that’s fine. I’m sorry for being a stupid, secretive bastard. I really, really am.” He looks imploringly into Gabriel’s eyes.
The Slytherin nods, accepting. He takes a deep breath. “So, can we try again?”
Dean stops, a contemplating look on his face. He stays still for an agonisingly long time, before his face breaks into a wide, shining grin.
“Okay.”
Gabriel breathes out a sigh of relief, and now he realises just how much he missed Dean in those weeks without him. It had felt like a vital part of him was missing, like an arm or a leg, and now that Dean’s back, it feels as if he is whole again, as cheesy as that might sound.
Plus now he would get laid regularly again, he would have Dean back, he would be calm again, and he won’t have detention now.
Gabriel leans forward, touching his lips to Dean’s. And everything in the room simultaneously explodes into colourful little pixels. Heat rushes up and down his spine, his fingers tingle and his toes curl. Dean’s lips are soft and full and warm against him, his breath sweet with the faint taste of pie. He smells like gunpowder and leather and soap, his robes chafe against Gabriel’s. Gabriel pushes against Dean, absorbing Dean’s heat into him. His wandering fingers explore Dean’s chiselled chest, his firm biceps, down to his sharp hips.
It feels wonderful, like heaven and meeting Merlin and winning the Quidditch cup and all of the sweets in Honeydukes combined. Maybe even more than that.
It’s more than amazing, more than awesome.
There isn’t a word to describe it, except a feeling of completeness that was never there before.
Urg, that is disgustingly sappy. Gabriel didn’t even eat the Every Flavour Beans.
Notes and Thanks Go to Masterpost
Go back to Part Two
On Saturday, he wakes up with a massive hangover.
That’s the first clue that something’s wrong.
He vaguely remembers Thursday, but that was cloaked in a haze of pain thanks to all the Firewhiskey he drank on Valentine’s Day.
Friday was still horrible - Gabriel couldn’t even remember much of Valentine’s Day, but the image of Dean and Castiel was seared into his brain and flashing before his eyes all through Friday. He’s not entirely sure what Crowley made him do. Hell, maybe that’s how he got the massive hangover.
Gabriel stumbles out of bed, almost smashing his forehead into his bedside table (and when did he get into bed?), and the world wavers and spins. He feels sour, acidic bile rush up his throat and into his mouth, and hurriedly swallows it down. The aftertaste is horrible, like beer and fire and underwear, and he thinks he may have to puke because of what he just did.
There’s someone having a party in his brain, and there’s an entire marching band and one of those bands Dean likes playing two songs, and the separate melodies clash in the background, making it just meaningless noise. And obviously the people are made of metal, because they’re pounding on his brain, smashing it to grey goo.
Party… oh shit. Gabriel’s pretty sure Crowley gave him some Muggle thing called Scotch and told him it is the best thing he’ll ever drink. And Gabriel drank it. Crowley is a horrible teacher. Horrible.
Gabriel groans, the taste of bile still lingering in his mouth, his throat burning. He slumps back to his silver and green bed, deciding to screw breakfast. He closes his eyes.
…And opens them to see Balthazar’s smug face floating above him, smirking happily. It’s another clue as to why this day will definitely suck donkey balls. Gabriel hates these clues.
“Gabe-y.” Balthazar laughs, “You up now?”
“What time is it?” Gabriel mumbles, the inside of his mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton.
“Oh, just noon,” Balthazar says airily, waving an unconcerned hand.
“Oh, if it’s just that,” Gabriel replies sarcastically. He still has a hangover, he notes gloomily.
“And you’ll love this,” Balthazar continues gleefully, apparently oblivious to Gabriel’s previous remark. “Winchester? He wasn’t in the Great Hall for breakfast or lunch. Like you.”
Now that grabs Gabriel’s attention, “Why not?”
The blond boy shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe he went on a bender and stayed home too hung-over to move also.”
Gabriel scowls, “I hope so.”
Balthazar frowns this time, “Okay, really. What did Winchester do to you?”
Gabriel sighs, deciding that his head hurts too much for him to protest. “It was … dysfunctional, okay? He knows everything about me, I know next to nothing about him. It couldn’t work out. Plus,” he adds bitterly, “I saw him on his bed with Milton.”
The other boy raises his eyebrow, “Castiel Milton,” he says, obviously looking for some kind of answer. Gabriel personally thinks it’s pretty obvious it’s Castiel Milton.
“Who else?”
Balthazar nods slowly, “Right. I need to go… get ready and,” he gestures wildly to Gabriel, then his trunk, then at the door. “Yeah.”
He turns and rushes out of the room, leaving Gabriel confused and still with a pounding headache.
Dean isn’t there the entire day, and he’s missing the entire Saturday, then Sunday, then the entire next week. Gabriel even swallows his pride and asks Crowley what’s going on; because the last time Dean went AWOL he landed himself in the hospital.
“I don’t know, and if I did I won’t tell you,” Crowley had said, “Go back to your work.”
Freaking patronising bastard.
On Monday, when Dean still isn’t there, Gabriel decides to swallow even more of his pride and go ask Tessa. So he parks himself in front of the Head Girl’s room, waits until it opens and she comes out.
“What do you want?” she asks coldly. She looks tired, her normally perfectly styled hair messy, robes slightly rumpled. Still, she manages to maintain her usual intimidating sense of power surrounding her.
Gabriel is quite frankly taken aback at her coolness - he’s only exchanged a few words with her, at the beginning of the year and some awkward moments at the morning when sneaking out of Dean’s room. He'd done nothing to piss her off, as far as he knew.
“Where’s Dean?” he asks bluntly, because his brain to mouth filter was never fully functional in the first place.
“He’s out,” Tessa says shortly.
“…Where?”
Tessa looks at him like he’s crazy, “How should I know?” She splutters, “All I know is that Dumbledore told me that Dean had to go somewhere, and then poof! He’s gone. And I get all of his rounds!”
“Right. Well, thanks anyway.” Gabriel thinks back to his personal experiences on what sleep deprivation mixed with stress does to some people. He doesn’t like what he remembers. “I’ll go.”
He runs out, wondering if Milton is here or with Dean. Nah, Gabriel won’t ask him. He still has his pride.
Turns out it doesn’t really matter, because Milton isn’t there - only Sam. So, of course, Gabriel goes to Sam, because who actually need their pride?
Sam sees Gabriel approaching, sends him a look of pure hatred, and the next thing Gabriel knows, Sam is gone.
Great. Fantastic.
And why are all of Dean’s friends all glaring at him? Tessa he gets, and okay, yeah, there’s the whole friend bias thing, but Dean cheated on Gabriel, and Dean has friends who doesn’t hate Gabriel. Hopefully.
Gabriel sighs, goes back to the Slytherin table. There, Balthazar is waiting for him.
And he’s bringing a friend.
“What are you doing here?” Gabriel spats rudely. The man besides Balthazar glares back at Gabriel, eyes as frosty and cold as the Russian winter.
“Believe me, I don’t want to be here either,” Castiel snorts back. Balthazar rolls his eyes.
“Castiel here would like to clear something up.”
“Dean and I aren’t fornicating,” Castiel announces, and Gabriel blinks because who the hell even says ‘fornicating’?
“Why should I believe you?” Gabriel challenges. Evidence of Dean and Castiel’s fornication seems so very obvious, and every single person in Hogwarts have sworn at least once that Castiel has a humongous crush on Dean, and apparently every single person in Hogwarts had a crush on Dean once, which is completely Dean’s fault for being so attractive. Well, except that Ravenclaw Becky Rosen, who thinks Sam and Dean are having sex and Sam is hotter. It could have grounds if it isn’t for the fact that Sam Winchester is thirteen, for Merlin’s sake.
Gabriel shakes off the rambling thoughts and glowers at Castiel. Who says the word fornicating and invades people’s personal space and Gabriel does not like.
“Because Cassie and I have been going out, and fornicating regularly,” Balthazar grins lecherously, oblivious to Gabriel’s mental ramble.
Wow. So Balthazar wasn’t lying about the dates. And also, ew! Gabriel does not need to know that.
“Really?” Gabriel blurts sceptically. Possible evidence of Dean/Castiel fornication hangs stubbornly in his mind. Balthazar pretends to look wounded.
“Don’t you trust me?”
Castiel cuts in because he has a huge stick straight up his arse and doesn’t know how to have fun. “Now that we have established Balthazar and my nightly activities, you should apologise to Dean for not trusting him.”
Not trusting him? Gabriel’s jaw drops open. “Look,” he tries to be calm, “I may have jumped to conclusions, but I still have a point. Dean didn’t tell me anything -”
“He couldn’t,” Castiel’s voice rises, “His father wouldn’t let him -”
“What, is he his father’s bitch?” Gabriel jeers.
Castiel’s top lip peels back into a snarl, “Don’t you dare call Dean his father’s -”
“Okay!” Balthazar cuts in, “Dean’s back. Gabe, just go and talk to him.” And with that, Castiel seemingly disappears into the crowd.
Gabriel takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, first once, then again, and again.
A click, then the heavy mahogany door opens. Emerald green eyes peek out, and then it’s open completely.
“What do you want?” Dean demands.
Gabriel licks his lips, “I heard you’re back.”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Milton told me you’re not doing him.”
“No, I’m not.”
Gabriel nods. “Can I come in?”
Dean steps back, leaving room for Gabriel to step through. So he does, and the room looks exactly the same. He feels a brief pang of sadness.
“I’m an idiot.” The words spill from his lips without a thought. Dean’s face softens, and the barest hint of a smile appears.
“Sit,” he nods to the bed. Gabriel complies, and Dean follows him.
Dean takes a deep breath, “When I was four, my mom died in a house fire. Only it was more than that - she was killed. Murdered. By a demon.”
Gabriel sucks in a breath. Demons - they are legends in the Wizarding World. Sure, they exist, but no one’s seen any of them.
“My Dad wants to kill the Demon, so he trained us like soldiers. I don’t know why Dumbledore wanted me to go to Hogwarts so bad… but I have a feeling that I will figure out why later.” He bites his bottom lip. “Sammy, my Dad and I… we're hunters.” Dean stops, watching Gabriel warily.
Hunters, like demons, are legends. Only not any more, it seems. Just like demons, they don’t exactly have a good reputation - they are the monster under the wizarding kid’s beds, the person who will kill you if you don’t do something right, or if you break the Statue of Secrecy. They are the ones that murder innocent five year olds who made just a tiny burst of magic. Hunters are feared and hated. To be a hunter will either result in shock, anger, fear, ridicule, or something worse … like death. After all, hunters are Muggles, and most wizards don’t take Muggles slaying wizards well.
“Okay,” Gabriel says steadily, surprising even himself.
“You’re okay with that?” Dean is incredulous.
“I don’t care as long as you don’t kill me,” Gabriel shrugs.
Dean snorts. “Like hell.”
He regards Gabriel with eyes years older than the rest of him, and makes a decision. “My father’s name is John. John Winchester. He’s a hero.”
Gabriel nods.
“So,” Dean’s lips quirk up, “We okay?”
“Why doesn’t Sam and Cas like me?” Gabriel asks.
“Your pranks, Gabe,” Dean rolls his eyes, “to them, it’s stupid and insensitive. Plus, remember that week where you jinxed me so I’d have nightmares about my death every day? That was traumatising. They still haven’t gotten over it, even though I have. Also, your family’s reputation.”
Okay, so that prank was a little out of hand. Still, it was funny. Or at least Gabriel thinks it’s funny. There’s still something, though.
“What the hell were you and Castiel doing?” It’s the one thing that’s been bugging Gabriel the most.
“My dad … it was the day that my mother died. And then he sent me this drunk message. It wasn’t very much, but … he was drunk, you know? But it hurt.”
“You don’t look like the kind who needs help. And why on the bed?”
“Cas is a pushy bastard,” Dean mumbles, “He pushed me down and started very firmly explaining why one doesn't listen to drunk people."
Gabriel gaps. Great, now he really feels like an idiot.
“I thought he was holding you down for a completely different reason.”
“I know,” Dean replies drily. “And when I was gone - Dad got hurt in a hunt. Wendigo - I went to see him. Before, that was Castiel telling me it’s fine to leave Sammy alone.” Gabriel lov -really likes Dean, really, but Dean and Sam are so freakishly, unhealthily co-dependent it makes a bit of Gabriel worry and most of him gag.
Dean’s silent. It’s Gabriel’s turn now.
“Look, I’m an idiot with trust issues. I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“It’s not your fault. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything. But Dad said that I shouldn’t, and I know from experience that anyone who tries ends up in a padded cell, and the attitude here about hunters is horrible.” Dean says defensively. Then a look crosses his face, and it says that he can’t believe he just said that.
“I’m not. And I’m sorry about that one new death each day prank,” Gabriel replies. It doesn’t really bother him - he knows if Dean is just a Muggle, and Gabriel is in his position, he would say the exact thing. Except he hopefully would be substituting ‘hunter’ to ‘wizard’. Like oh hey boyfriend I’m a wizard and that’s why I’m such a secretive bastard. Okay maybe not like that.
Dean shrugs, “that’s fine. I’m sorry for being a stupid, secretive bastard. I really, really am.” He looks imploringly into Gabriel’s eyes.
The Slytherin nods, accepting. He takes a deep breath. “So, can we try again?”
Dean stops, a contemplating look on his face. He stays still for an agonisingly long time, before his face breaks into a wide, shining grin.
“Okay.”
Gabriel breathes out a sigh of relief, and now he realises just how much he missed Dean in those weeks without him. It had felt like a vital part of him was missing, like an arm or a leg, and now that Dean’s back, it feels as if he is whole again, as cheesy as that might sound.
Plus now he would get laid regularly again, he would have Dean back, he would be calm again, and he won’t have detention now.
Gabriel leans forward, touching his lips to Dean’s. And everything in the room simultaneously explodes into colourful little pixels. Heat rushes up and down his spine, his fingers tingle and his toes curl. Dean’s lips are soft and full and warm against him, his breath sweet with the faint taste of pie. He smells like gunpowder and leather and soap, his robes chafe against Gabriel’s. Gabriel pushes against Dean, absorbing Dean’s heat into him. His wandering fingers explore Dean’s chiselled chest, his firm biceps, down to his sharp hips.
It feels wonderful, like heaven and meeting Merlin and winning the Quidditch cup and all of the sweets in Honeydukes combined. Maybe even more than that.
It’s more than amazing, more than awesome.
There isn’t a word to describe it, except a feeling of completeness that was never there before.
Urg, that is disgustingly sappy. Gabriel didn’t even eat the Every Flavour Beans.
Notes and Thanks Go to Masterpost