fic: A Moment of Quiet
Title: A Moment of Quiet
Author: wolfish_willow
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They belong to Kripke and co. I'm just playing with them for fun, not profit.
Word Count: 1,002
Warnings/Spoilers: Mpreg (though I find this to be an enticement). If you know who Gabriel is, you should be good.
Summary: Sam comes home from holiday shopping to a warm house, some hot chocolate, and an overprotective Archangel. He wouldn't have it any other way.
Notes: Written for sailorstarshine's fandom_stocking, originally posted here.
Notes 2: Beta'd by confetticas. Thanks so much, you rock! Any remaining mistakes are all my own. Hee
The wind whips past him in cold blasts that have already numbed his cheeks and his nose feels frozen. It all reminds him of a movie he saw once when he was little, the puppies bemoaning how their toes and noses and tails were cold and he smiles beneath the striped, fuzzy fleece scarf that's the only thing keeping them from possibly turning blue on the walk from his - his - driveway to their porch. He's pretty sure the novelty will never wear, having a house that's his, theirs.
The keys slip in his gloved hand when he pulls them from his belt loop, shifting all of the bags onto his other arm. He should have known better than to think he'd actually need to use them, though, when the door opens before he's even started trying to pick out the house key from the rest.
Gabriel pulls him in by the arm, but Sam can barely feel it through the sleeves of his puffy coat. The skin of his cheeks tingle and his nose twitches at the sudden change in temperature. There's a fire crackling in the living room, something else he'd always wanted that the angel refused to let them go without, and the smell of burning wood and festive apple cinnamon and what might even be the aroma of freshly made hot chocolate wafting from the kitchen fill his senses, make his belly flip and his chest swell. He's grinning before he even realizes it.
"Hey," he breathes, cut off from saying anything more when Gabriel snaps the bags from his hands and onto the loveseat by the over-extravagantly decorated Christmas tree Sam tried to insist didn't need to be perfect but had fun setting up anyway. Gabriel's forehead is creased a little and Sam feels those amber eyes looking him up and down even as the angel pushes Sam's jacket off his shoulders and unwraps the scarf.
His grin morphs to a soft, half smile and he valiantly resists the urge to roll his eyes at what's become a familiar routine since they found out. He knows by now to let Gabriel look his fill until he realizes Sam is just fine, more than capable of going to the store for groceries - that he refuses to let Gabriel just snap into existence because it's still a nice experience, going to the grocery store and filling his cart with food that isn't all non-perishable, travel-friendly, microwavable food - or shopping for presents as he'd been doing today. In his bags are some oil for Dean's baby - always a must for his brother and one of the few traditions they had before they finally got a chance to live their own lives outside of hunting - and the latest AC/DC album on CD because he's still a little brother and it's fun to rile Dean up a bit. He's got the cassette tape, too, something he plans on holding onto until after everything's been opened and Dean's sufficiently bitched about how it's an atrocity, trying to make him bring the Impala (and himself) into the 21st century. He picked up a pound of caramel chocolates from one of the shops at the mall for Gabriel even though he knows the angel can just bring some into existence because he knows there's something about man-made candy that his angel likes. Sam thinks it's the same feeling of novelty he gets about going shopping, something he doesn't - didn't - get to do often for a long time.
"Satisfied?" Sam asks, unable to mask his amusement.
Gabriel's eyes snap up to meet his and they're softer now that he knows Sam is just as healthy now as he was when he left. But then the angel waggles his eyebrows, eyes flashing playfully. "Never," he teases, wrapping his fingers around Sam's neck and dragging him down for a long, wet kiss that leaves Sam panting when he pulls away.
"Hey, back."
Sam smiles wide again, knows his dimples are out in full force and his eyes have to be shining. He can't help it when he sees Gabriel's gaze move lower until he's looking straight at Sam's stomach and the just-noticeable bump visible beneath his clothes now that his coat is out of the way.
"You being good to your Daddy, Bartholomew?"
"I already told you, even if it is a boy, we're not naming him Bartholomew." He wrinkles his nose at the name, eyes crossing when Gabriel chuckles and presses a peck of a kiss there.
"But -"
"No, you are not naming him Bartholomew just so you can nickname him Mew and dress him up as a floating pink pokemon."
Gabriel rolls his eyes, bottom lip jutting out in an adorable pout that Sam doesn't hesitate to kiss away. "You can still give him the nickname," he concedes, because he knows not all nicknames have anything to do with a person's actual name and he's not as fun-sucking as Dean likes to pretend he is.
"Fine." Gabriel heaves a put upon sigh but then he's grinning and leaning up on his toes to kiss Sam one more time before leading him to the couch. The fire pops, flames flickering behind the mesh grate and Sam relaxes into the cushions, leaning into Gabriel's side and wrapping an arm over the angel's shoulders. Gabriel's skin is soft against his lips when he presses a lingering kiss to the side of his angel's head, over the temple.
Gabriel shifts a little beside him until he's leaning more on his side, slipping a warm hand under Sam's shirt to rest over his stomach. Sam smiles into Gabriel's feather-soft hair and closes his eyes, lets himself breathe in his lover's scent and enjoy this moment of quiet with him. Their hot chocolate is still in the kitchen and he's got presents he needs to wrap but all of that can wait a little longer. Right now, he's content to just sit in front of the fire with his angel.
END
Author: wolfish_willow
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. They belong to Kripke and co. I'm just playing with them for fun, not profit.
Word Count: 1,002
Warnings/Spoilers: Mpreg (though I find this to be an enticement). If you know who Gabriel is, you should be good.
Summary: Sam comes home from holiday shopping to a warm house, some hot chocolate, and an overprotective Archangel. He wouldn't have it any other way.
Notes: Written for sailorstarshine's fandom_stocking, originally posted here.
Notes 2: Beta'd by confetticas. Thanks so much, you rock! Any remaining mistakes are all my own. Hee
The wind whips past him in cold blasts that have already numbed his cheeks and his nose feels frozen. It all reminds him of a movie he saw once when he was little, the puppies bemoaning how their toes and noses and tails were cold and he smiles beneath the striped, fuzzy fleece scarf that's the only thing keeping them from possibly turning blue on the walk from his - his - driveway to their porch. He's pretty sure the novelty will never wear, having a house that's his, theirs.
The keys slip in his gloved hand when he pulls them from his belt loop, shifting all of the bags onto his other arm. He should have known better than to think he'd actually need to use them, though, when the door opens before he's even started trying to pick out the house key from the rest.
Gabriel pulls him in by the arm, but Sam can barely feel it through the sleeves of his puffy coat. The skin of his cheeks tingle and his nose twitches at the sudden change in temperature. There's a fire crackling in the living room, something else he'd always wanted that the angel refused to let them go without, and the smell of burning wood and festive apple cinnamon and what might even be the aroma of freshly made hot chocolate wafting from the kitchen fill his senses, make his belly flip and his chest swell. He's grinning before he even realizes it.
"Hey," he breathes, cut off from saying anything more when Gabriel snaps the bags from his hands and onto the loveseat by the over-extravagantly decorated Christmas tree Sam tried to insist didn't need to be perfect but had fun setting up anyway. Gabriel's forehead is creased a little and Sam feels those amber eyes looking him up and down even as the angel pushes Sam's jacket off his shoulders and unwraps the scarf.
His grin morphs to a soft, half smile and he valiantly resists the urge to roll his eyes at what's become a familiar routine since they found out. He knows by now to let Gabriel look his fill until he realizes Sam is just fine, more than capable of going to the store for groceries - that he refuses to let Gabriel just snap into existence because it's still a nice experience, going to the grocery store and filling his cart with food that isn't all non-perishable, travel-friendly, microwavable food - or shopping for presents as he'd been doing today. In his bags are some oil for Dean's baby - always a must for his brother and one of the few traditions they had before they finally got a chance to live their own lives outside of hunting - and the latest AC/DC album on CD because he's still a little brother and it's fun to rile Dean up a bit. He's got the cassette tape, too, something he plans on holding onto until after everything's been opened and Dean's sufficiently bitched about how it's an atrocity, trying to make him bring the Impala (and himself) into the 21st century. He picked up a pound of caramel chocolates from one of the shops at the mall for Gabriel even though he knows the angel can just bring some into existence because he knows there's something about man-made candy that his angel likes. Sam thinks it's the same feeling of novelty he gets about going shopping, something he doesn't - didn't - get to do often for a long time.
"Satisfied?" Sam asks, unable to mask his amusement.
Gabriel's eyes snap up to meet his and they're softer now that he knows Sam is just as healthy now as he was when he left. But then the angel waggles his eyebrows, eyes flashing playfully. "Never," he teases, wrapping his fingers around Sam's neck and dragging him down for a long, wet kiss that leaves Sam panting when he pulls away.
"Hey, back."
Sam smiles wide again, knows his dimples are out in full force and his eyes have to be shining. He can't help it when he sees Gabriel's gaze move lower until he's looking straight at Sam's stomach and the just-noticeable bump visible beneath his clothes now that his coat is out of the way.
"You being good to your Daddy, Bartholomew?"
"I already told you, even if it is a boy, we're not naming him Bartholomew." He wrinkles his nose at the name, eyes crossing when Gabriel chuckles and presses a peck of a kiss there.
"But -"
"No, you are not naming him Bartholomew just so you can nickname him Mew and dress him up as a floating pink pokemon."
Gabriel rolls his eyes, bottom lip jutting out in an adorable pout that Sam doesn't hesitate to kiss away. "You can still give him the nickname," he concedes, because he knows not all nicknames have anything to do with a person's actual name and he's not as fun-sucking as Dean likes to pretend he is.
"Fine." Gabriel heaves a put upon sigh but then he's grinning and leaning up on his toes to kiss Sam one more time before leading him to the couch. The fire pops, flames flickering behind the mesh grate and Sam relaxes into the cushions, leaning into Gabriel's side and wrapping an arm over the angel's shoulders. Gabriel's skin is soft against his lips when he presses a lingering kiss to the side of his angel's head, over the temple.
Gabriel shifts a little beside him until he's leaning more on his side, slipping a warm hand under Sam's shirt to rest over his stomach. Sam smiles into Gabriel's feather-soft hair and closes his eyes, lets himself breathe in his lover's scent and enjoy this moment of quiet with him. Their hot chocolate is still in the kitchen and he's got presents he needs to wrap but all of that can wait a little longer. Right now, he's content to just sit in front of the fire with his angel.
END