Stupid Fucking DVD, 1/2
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Word Count: 2803
Rating: E
Summary: After Dean goes to sleep, Sam watches the rest of Casa Erotica, and... well, he should really learn to stop being surprised when Gabriel surprises him.
Written for Sabriel Week 2012.
Also posted on AO3 here.
Did they miss something?
Sam can’t stop thinking about it. The question stays with him all day - clings as they get back in the car, holds on tenaciously through the drive across state lines, bounces after him into their latest wood-paneled motel room and flops down next to him as he tries to sleep. He’s exhausted, so he tells himself that Gabriel knew what he was doing, that he planned that stunt down to the dumb voiceovers, that he wouldn’t risk the whole world on how much porn the Winchesters are willing to watch. Gabe told them everything they needed at the beginning. Of course he did.
But what if he didn’t? It’s like the world’s most pessimistic toddler is trying to convince him to watch Aladdin again. What if we turned it off before the real end? What if the parrot tells everyone that Jasmine’s really a man? What if they get divorced after the credits? What if the fucking Devil shows up and splatters Genie all over the palace walls? It’s that last image that finally forces Sam out of bed. After imagining all those scraps of blue skin slapping onto the marble floor, he’s not going to be sleeping anyway. Might as well watch it all the way through.
Dean’s already shut off the lights with a “Wake me when there’s food that doesn’t have eyeballs in it,” so Sam shifts quietly out of the far side of his bed and pads silently over to their duffles. This might be important, but he still doesn’t want Dean to wake up and catch him watching angel sex. All of Sam’s porn-based leverage over his hentai-watching brother would be lost.
Sam knows the DVD is still in his laptop, so he grabs it and lies back down, pulling the polyester comforter all the way over his head so Dean won’t see the glow. He has a momentary flashback to doing this when he was a kid, reading big geeky novels under the covers with a flashlight. Sometimes he’d be sharing a bed with Dean while Dad took the other, and more often than not Dean would end up crawling under the blanket too and reading Dune with Sam until their eyes couldn’t stay open.
Tonight the whole “secret reading under the covers” set-up has kind of lost its appeal. For one thing, Sam doesn’t really read fiction much anymore. Also, he’s made this particular blanket fort because the Devil wants to get in his ass like he’s a prison bitch. The nostalgia factor here isn’t especially strong.
It’s already 3am, so Sam plugs in his headphones, boots up the computer, and presses play.
The wah-wah porno music sounds even worse the second time around, and Sam has to admire Gabriel’s commitment to his chosen genre. Sure, the girl is a little prettier and in better lighting than most porn Sam’s ever seen, but “Hung-arian” is maybe the worst thing he’s ever heard spoken aloud so it all evens out. The stupid mustache gets a smile out of him. He thinks he’d start laughing out loud if he wasn’t so worried about waking Dean.
“Sam, Dean.”
It’s still weird to hear Gabe say their names like that, like he might respect them now even if he still likes fucking with them. There’s even a bit of fondness there. Maybe. Then comes the part where Gabriel admits that Dean was right, and Sam thinks Gabe would hate if anything he had a hand in were called “bittersweet,” but that’s what it is. Gabe did the right thing, which is still amazing and kind of unfathomable, but he’s also one more angel who just got fucked over by the Winchesters. By the time he hears, “This is me, lying down,” Sam isn’t smiling at all. A last will and testament, even with dick jokes, still isn’t very funny. Onscreen, Gabe smirks and turns back to the girl.
For a little while it’s the same thing, that weirdly unsexy porn groping where it’s obvious that no one’s actually having a good time or even really trying to touch each other. Gabe is, of course, a born performer. He growls and angles his head for the camera and grinds his hips against her so she has a reason to make breathy porn noises. The whole thing is just weird to watch.
Then it changes. It’s like Gabriel forgets there’s a camera or maybe decides the Winchesters must have stopped watching after that last ass-wiggling thing so he doesn’t need to work at freaking them out any more. His whole body relaxes. He moves his hands from the girl’s ass to her face, gently shifts himself back an inch from her lips. Sam can’t really hear what Gabe asks her, but she smiles and nods and leans forward against his mouth again. It’s soft now, how she kisses him. It’s like - Jesus, it’s exactly like how Jess used to kiss him after he’d had a long day and she wasn’t sure if he was thinking about sleep or sex, but she wanted to offer anyway. It’s so suddenly intimate and human that Sam almost shuts the laptop down in shock. Gabe nods again against her lips, murmurs something that makes her laugh and roll her eyes and say “shut up, Jack” and open her mouth to his tongue.
There’s a wash of affection over the whole proceedings now, a comfort level, and Sam’s stomach sort of hollows for a second as the girl giggles. That wasn’t a “sexy” laugh - that was... playful. Gabriel might not have told her his real name, and he definitely mojo-ed her so she didn’t hear all the stuff about Lucifer, but it’s become very clear that Gabe asked a real woman to do this with him. He hired someone, or found a girl who liked being taped... what matters is that he didn’t just conjure a manifestation. Sam has watched Gabriel spin his pleasures of the flesh out of thin air, and with anyone but the Winchesters he seemed to prefer intermediaries or hallucinations to personal interaction with humans. Plus, those girls he tried to offer Dean in Springfield were straight out of a Playboy spread - as if Gabe wasn’t really sure what a woman looked like without airbrushing. So this doesn’t make sense. Sam watches him take the girl’s bra off by hand instead of making it disappear. He’s kind of terrible at it, actually, and after a minute she pushes him away with an “ok, this is silly” and unsnaps it herself.
It’s real now, not porn - the angles are awkward and as they fall to the bed their bodies are too close together for a viewer to really see what’s happening. Gabe is kissing her, light touches that move across her lips and eyes and cheeks before he growls in the stupidest way and moves his hand between their bodies. Sam hears the girl’s next giggle turn into a hum of surprised pleasure. Gabe smiles at her expression, and Sam starts to feel like he shouldn’t be watching this, like maybe Gabe wouldn’t want him to see these moments of uncertainty and touches, humor without malice. But suddenly, there’s the image in Sam’s head of Gabe’s hand where he can’t see it- the palm pressed firm against her, fingertips teasing inside to come back wet. Pinpoints of heat flicker across Sam’s skin. He forgets to stop the video.