(no subject)
Title: A Shelter From The Storm 6/6
Author: tracker_lucifer
Rating: Pg13-light R
Genre and/or Pairing: Gabe/Sam
Spoilers: Nope.
Warnings: AU, Dub-con (very light), light slash
Word Count: 6k+
Author's Note Written for the spn_gabriel_sam's fic exchange. This story is for inalasahl's prompt:
1) hooker!Sam
5) Picture Prompt
I'm sorry that this fic is very light on the slash but I do hope it meets to your standard. Many thanks to beta work of eonism and aaeth. Any other mistakes in the fic is my fault.
Enjoy.
Other Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The crumpled headline read “Runaway Professor” in bold print across a three-week old school newspaper. It was all about how Professor Rose Mitchell had fled from Stanford under suspicious circumstances. Colleagues reported that during the meeting she appeared relatively normal until she left. It was then that a janitor saw her hurry into the parking structure and “burn rubber”, nearly nailing a couple pedestrians. Nobody knows why the sudden change in her behavior. Further investigation was still pending.
Taking her place in the classroom, Teaching Assistant Judy would be responsible in continuing the lessons and watching over the students during the finals. She never approached Sam about his supposed plagiarized paper.
Sam tossed the newspaper away before returning to his squeaky cart and continued down the rows. Lightning illuminated aisles as the motion lights kicked in. The low grumble of thunder made his cart rattle but he remained unfazed. He had a duty to fulfill, even if it means to push the chairs into their designated tables or picking up the scattered books. It was still much better than what he did before.
Sam pushed Foucault next to Chomsky and then Nietzsche joined his fellow existentialist Sartre in the next shelf. The book stands shuddered and lightning flashed again. The storm was getting worst which means he’ll be spending another night in the library. He might as well start stashing his pillow and blanket in the main office. He shook his head at his own joke and traced the aged spine of Thus Spoke Zarathustra when he heard it.
Sam’s breath caught in his throat and his head tilted to the sound, the hum. It was faint and yet somehow Sam could hear it in spite of the thunder’s rumble. He drifted out from behind the shelf and into the pathway. Quietly, Sam made his way toward his old table. There was no reason to believe that he would be there just like there was no reason for him to feel that surge of anticipation, and yet Sam knew that he was there and the anticipation grew.
Lightning flashed again and the wind sounded like a howling wolf. Sam stopped next to one of the shelves and looked on, the corners of his lips twitching upward.
Across from him the humming janitor was slumped in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table listening to his headphones. His head bobbed slowly while his feet twitched to the beat of the music. It was endearing and very fitting for someone who was in a world of his own.
Sam took a deep breath and quietly stepped forward, moving around the table to sit himself across the janitor. “Ugly weather we’re having, huh?” He casually asked as he glanced toward his companion. The feigned surprise on the janitor’s face soon melted into the knowing smirk Sam remembered.
“Hm?” The laughing hazel eyes looked at him as he slid off the headphones. “Did you say something, kid?”
“I said get your feet off the table.” Sam pointed at the Janitor’s feet.
“Seriously? It’s near midnight and you’re telling me I’m not allowed to relax a little?” The janitor scoffed.
“It’s a library. If students can’t prop up their feet, neither can staff. Including janitors.”
“Did anything specifically say that?”
“Nope, but it’s implied.”
“I think you’re making it up.”
“I think you just don’t want to put your feet down.”
“What if I don’t put my feet down?”
“Then I’ll have to escort you out of the library.”
“But I have the keys, kiddo.”
“Then I’ll find a way to bar the doors to prevent you from reentering.” Sam replied with confidence, smiling slightly at the janitor.
“You would send me out to that?” The janitor gestured to the storm.
“If you don’t put your feet down then I have no choice.”
“Touché,” The janitor chuckled, sliding his feet off the table. “Since when did librarians become so anal?”
“Since a janitor helped me find a job.” Sam responded and looked toward the janitor who was smirking at him.
“Well, then I think a reward is in order for said janitor.”
“What kind of reward is he looking for?”
“Hm…” The janitor openly leered at him. “How about a couple sexual favors? A blow job would be nice.”
To his own amazement, Sam didn’t freak out. He didn’t become flustered by the janitor’s blunt words at all. He faced it head on with a smirk and a boldness he thought he’d lost.
“Just give me a time and place.”
The janitor’s face split open in laughter that rang out through the library. “Not bad, kid. Not bad.” He took a yellow package of M&Ms from his pocket and began to snack on them.
Sam looked at the janitor and then at the large bay window behind his old study table. It was just in time to see lightning strike the ground, but amazingly the lights didn’t even flicker. “Ugly weather we’re having,” He repeated.
“Oh this is nothing.”
Sam looked at the janitor’s cocky expression. “It is for here.”
“You’ve seen a worse storm than this?”
“Kansas is full of bad storms-”
“Ones that take you to the Land of Oz?”
Sam couldn’t stop the smile from forming as he shook his head. “You’re almost as bad as my brother but no. None of the Kansas tornados have seemed to be in the mood to take anyone to Oz lately.” He said. “But I’ve seen worse storms than this. They would last all day and make the walls rattle with the lightning alone.”
Sometimes on those nights, he and Dean would sit themselves on the porch and watch as the sky lit up. They never cared if they got wet whenever wind turned the rain horizontal. The only thing that would move them from their spot was when their dad barked at them to get their ass in gear and pack up.
“That’s nothing,” The janitor declared just as the number of lightning strikes increased.
“What have you seen?”
“I’ve seen storms where the lightning lit the sky as if it was morning. The rain didn’t come in drops but in pails with hails of the size golf-no tennis balls. The water would rise so quickly that before you knew it the whole city is underwater.”
“You’re plagiarizing Noah’s Ark or the lost city of Atlantis.”
“Oh I’m not plagiarizing.”
“Then you are lying.”
The janitor turned to him, leaned over the table and pointed at his face. “Is this the face of a liar?”
“I don’t know,” Sam admitted but refused to pull away. “I’ve only seen that face once before.”
“And let me guess, once you saw moi,” He punctuated with a grin. “You could never forget it.” He stretched and leaned back into his chair. “You shouldn’t be ashamed. I know I’m a hot number.” He gloated, “And that your kind have a hard time looking away from me after the first look.”
“My kind?”
“The dying breed of Sasquatch of course. On top of that, I think you got a little bit of Godzilla too.” The Janitor’s face pinched into a thoughtful expression. “Though, I’ve always heard that your kind tended to be on the dumb side and not mild-mannered librarians. Seeing you in a joint like this is quite unusual.”
“Well, I was never one for ordinary,” Sam said and watched as a knowing smirk spread on Janitor’s face.
“No…” He agreed. “You don’t seem to be the type. Which is good because ordinary is boring.” He tossed the empty M&M wrapper aside, stood up and headed out.
“You’re going?” Sam asked and winced at the sound of his own voice. Seeing the janitor’s smirk didn’t help the situation either.
“My shift ended, Kiddo. Time for me to head home,” The janitor replied, sliding on his headphones.
"After dumping your trash in the library? Aren't you the janitor?"
“I'm the janitor who is off the clock. It's your problem now.” The janitor replied and waved him off.
Sam twisted around his seat to look at the janitor’s back. “Will I see you again?”
The Janitor paused, his head tilted to one side as if he was pondering, before looking over his shoulder “Maybe,” He shrugged. “We’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t we?” He gave Sam a wicked grin full of promise then disappeared behind a shelf.
Behind him the storm raged on with the low grumble of thunder and the intense glow of the lightning shower. His eyes remained glued to the empty pathway that the janitor took and swore he could still hear that pleasant hum. He bit back his smile, and returned to work.
Author: tracker_lucifer
Rating: Pg13-light R
Genre and/or Pairing: Gabe/Sam
Spoilers: Nope.
Warnings: AU, Dub-con (very light), light slash
Word Count: 6k+
Author's Note Written for the spn_gabriel_sam's fic exchange. This story is for inalasahl's prompt:
1) hooker!Sam
5) Picture Prompt
I'm sorry that this fic is very light on the slash but I do hope it meets to your standard. Many thanks to beta work of eonism and aaeth. Any other mistakes in the fic is my fault.
Enjoy.
Other Chapters:
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
The crumpled headline read “Runaway Professor” in bold print across a three-week old school newspaper. It was all about how Professor Rose Mitchell had fled from Stanford under suspicious circumstances. Colleagues reported that during the meeting she appeared relatively normal until she left. It was then that a janitor saw her hurry into the parking structure and “burn rubber”, nearly nailing a couple pedestrians. Nobody knows why the sudden change in her behavior. Further investigation was still pending.
Taking her place in the classroom, Teaching Assistant Judy would be responsible in continuing the lessons and watching over the students during the finals. She never approached Sam about his supposed plagiarized paper.
Sam tossed the newspaper away before returning to his squeaky cart and continued down the rows. Lightning illuminated aisles as the motion lights kicked in. The low grumble of thunder made his cart rattle but he remained unfazed. He had a duty to fulfill, even if it means to push the chairs into their designated tables or picking up the scattered books. It was still much better than what he did before.
Sam pushed Foucault next to Chomsky and then Nietzsche joined his fellow existentialist Sartre in the next shelf. The book stands shuddered and lightning flashed again. The storm was getting worst which means he’ll be spending another night in the library. He might as well start stashing his pillow and blanket in the main office. He shook his head at his own joke and traced the aged spine of Thus Spoke Zarathustra when he heard it.
Sam’s breath caught in his throat and his head tilted to the sound, the hum. It was faint and yet somehow Sam could hear it in spite of the thunder’s rumble. He drifted out from behind the shelf and into the pathway. Quietly, Sam made his way toward his old table. There was no reason to believe that he would be there just like there was no reason for him to feel that surge of anticipation, and yet Sam knew that he was there and the anticipation grew.
Lightning flashed again and the wind sounded like a howling wolf. Sam stopped next to one of the shelves and looked on, the corners of his lips twitching upward.
Across from him the humming janitor was slumped in one of the chairs, his feet propped up on the table listening to his headphones. His head bobbed slowly while his feet twitched to the beat of the music. It was endearing and very fitting for someone who was in a world of his own.
Sam took a deep breath and quietly stepped forward, moving around the table to sit himself across the janitor. “Ugly weather we’re having, huh?” He casually asked as he glanced toward his companion. The feigned surprise on the janitor’s face soon melted into the knowing smirk Sam remembered.
“Hm?” The laughing hazel eyes looked at him as he slid off the headphones. “Did you say something, kid?”
“I said get your feet off the table.” Sam pointed at the Janitor’s feet.
“Seriously? It’s near midnight and you’re telling me I’m not allowed to relax a little?” The janitor scoffed.
“It’s a library. If students can’t prop up their feet, neither can staff. Including janitors.”
“Did anything specifically say that?”
“Nope, but it’s implied.”
“I think you’re making it up.”
“I think you just don’t want to put your feet down.”
“What if I don’t put my feet down?”
“Then I’ll have to escort you out of the library.”
“But I have the keys, kiddo.”
“Then I’ll find a way to bar the doors to prevent you from reentering.” Sam replied with confidence, smiling slightly at the janitor.
“You would send me out to that?” The janitor gestured to the storm.
“If you don’t put your feet down then I have no choice.”
“Touché,” The janitor chuckled, sliding his feet off the table. “Since when did librarians become so anal?”
“Since a janitor helped me find a job.” Sam responded and looked toward the janitor who was smirking at him.
“Well, then I think a reward is in order for said janitor.”
“What kind of reward is he looking for?”
“Hm…” The janitor openly leered at him. “How about a couple sexual favors? A blow job would be nice.”
To his own amazement, Sam didn’t freak out. He didn’t become flustered by the janitor’s blunt words at all. He faced it head on with a smirk and a boldness he thought he’d lost.
“Just give me a time and place.”
The janitor’s face split open in laughter that rang out through the library. “Not bad, kid. Not bad.” He took a yellow package of M&Ms from his pocket and began to snack on them.
Sam looked at the janitor and then at the large bay window behind his old study table. It was just in time to see lightning strike the ground, but amazingly the lights didn’t even flicker. “Ugly weather we’re having,” He repeated.
“Oh this is nothing.”
Sam looked at the janitor’s cocky expression. “It is for here.”
“You’ve seen a worse storm than this?”
“Kansas is full of bad storms-”
“Ones that take you to the Land of Oz?”
Sam couldn’t stop the smile from forming as he shook his head. “You’re almost as bad as my brother but no. None of the Kansas tornados have seemed to be in the mood to take anyone to Oz lately.” He said. “But I’ve seen worse storms than this. They would last all day and make the walls rattle with the lightning alone.”
Sometimes on those nights, he and Dean would sit themselves on the porch and watch as the sky lit up. They never cared if they got wet whenever wind turned the rain horizontal. The only thing that would move them from their spot was when their dad barked at them to get their ass in gear and pack up.
“That’s nothing,” The janitor declared just as the number of lightning strikes increased.
“What have you seen?”
“I’ve seen storms where the lightning lit the sky as if it was morning. The rain didn’t come in drops but in pails with hails of the size golf-no tennis balls. The water would rise so quickly that before you knew it the whole city is underwater.”
“You’re plagiarizing Noah’s Ark or the lost city of Atlantis.”
“Oh I’m not plagiarizing.”
“Then you are lying.”
The janitor turned to him, leaned over the table and pointed at his face. “Is this the face of a liar?”
“I don’t know,” Sam admitted but refused to pull away. “I’ve only seen that face once before.”
“And let me guess, once you saw moi,” He punctuated with a grin. “You could never forget it.” He stretched and leaned back into his chair. “You shouldn’t be ashamed. I know I’m a hot number.” He gloated, “And that your kind have a hard time looking away from me after the first look.”
“My kind?”
“The dying breed of Sasquatch of course. On top of that, I think you got a little bit of Godzilla too.” The Janitor’s face pinched into a thoughtful expression. “Though, I’ve always heard that your kind tended to be on the dumb side and not mild-mannered librarians. Seeing you in a joint like this is quite unusual.”
“Well, I was never one for ordinary,” Sam said and watched as a knowing smirk spread on Janitor’s face.
“No…” He agreed. “You don’t seem to be the type. Which is good because ordinary is boring.” He tossed the empty M&M wrapper aside, stood up and headed out.
“You’re going?” Sam asked and winced at the sound of his own voice. Seeing the janitor’s smirk didn’t help the situation either.
“My shift ended, Kiddo. Time for me to head home,” The janitor replied, sliding on his headphones.
"After dumping your trash in the library? Aren't you the janitor?"
“I'm the janitor who is off the clock. It's your problem now.” The janitor replied and waved him off.
Sam twisted around his seat to look at the janitor’s back. “Will I see you again?”
The Janitor paused, his head tilted to one side as if he was pondering, before looking over his shoulder “Maybe,” He shrugged. “We’ll just have to wait and see, now won’t we?” He gave Sam a wicked grin full of promise then disappeared behind a shelf.
Behind him the storm raged on with the low grumble of thunder and the intense glow of the lightning shower. His eyes remained glued to the empty pathway that the janitor took and swore he could still hear that pleasant hum. He bit back his smile, and returned to work.