[NaNo] The Storm Will Wash Us Clean
Title: The Storm Will Wash Us Clean
Author: bagheera_101
Rating: R
Character: Gabriel/Dean
Word Count: 1942
Warnings: Unconventional pairing, first time trying it, angsty, Gabriel's identities, unapologetic time-bending
Spoilers: Blanket S5 for safety
Prompt: 27: Shelter
A/N: You know the drill by now. Tired. Getting better but still sick. Feeling like trying out an unusual pairing that I've never written before but makes me curious (I really need to explore totally new pairings while sick like a hole in the head!) Also, I screwed with the timeline without checking if it makes sense. They're temporarily my playtoys, so I'll mold them as I wish. :P
Summary: They're more alike than either of them will admit, and when a storm hits, they'll seek any shelter.
Dean didn't know how that damn angel had done it, but Gabriel had managed to work his way into his life. Not quickly, not boldly and not in a typical, Trickster-style, in-your-face sort of move... but slowly, like the slinking of shadows across the motel parking lot as summer evening turned to night.
He'd just suddenly show up during a hunt and offer a timely piece of advice to save Dean and Sam from getting chopped in half by the latest monster of the week, or he'd saunter into the diner when they were having a frustrating morning and couldn't find a decent hunt, accidentally leaving behind a paper from a nearby state.
Once, the annoyingly self-satisfied dick had even had the nerve to stitch up a wound they would have had to go to a hospital over, then rub in that they owed him a favour and vanish.
So why the hell did he look forward to seeing Gabriel these days?
~*~
Gabriel watched the Winchester boys whenever he could. Their life was practically a TV show, after all, and a lot more interesting than most reruns on TV over the summer. There was horror that almost made him cringe (but not quite), the rare bit of emotional drama that would catch his interest, a near-constant banter and comedic element... oh, yes, he liked watching them.
It meant that he was paying close attention to their responses and the feelings that weren't being spoken about when they discovered that God... just didn't care anymore. Perhaps a small, hidden part of him still cared for his father, just as Dean and Sam still felt for theirs, whether or not either of their dads had been decent at their roles.
Without even really thinking about it, he appeared there in the quiet motel room, gazing back and forth between the humans there and his younger brother, on the run and so very young and lost. Poor Castiel, he couldn't help but think. Idealistic, like most young angels, fervently wanting to believe in his own father and then hearing something like this.
Dean was seated on the bed closest to the TV, legs spread slightly and elbows propped on his denim-clad knees. There was a beer bottle in his hand, but he seemed more preoccupied with staring into it than drinking.
His younger and lankier brother, Sam, sat at the table on the rickety motel chair, gazing at his closed laptop as if he wasn't sure if he should open it or throw it out the window.
Leaning against the wall, his eyes turned upwards to the ceiling as if it would miraculously offer words of comfort, Castiel didn't say anything. His trenchcoat was open and crooked as usual, tie askew and collar badly in need of ironing. The look in his eyes was the worst part.
None of them looked particularly surprised to see him. He got a grunt from Sam, a slight nod from Castiel, and an unreadable look from Dean, who caught his eyes and held them for a second.
Sam broke the silence.
“I'm gonna get something to drink. Cas, you want something?”
There was a long pause.
“Cas?”
The angel dragged his eyes to Sam's face, then seemed to realize that Sam was attempting to give Dean and Gabriel privacy. He nodded once, trailing Sam out the door like a lost puppy who had found some small sense of direction for just a few minutes.
Gabriel knew they'd be outside for a while, because they needed to talk over what they felt as their faith imploded on itself, and because Sam was a good little brother. He headed to the bed, stood in front of Dean and just gazed at him.
~*~
Dean really didn't know why the archangel had shown up, why the others had suddenly left, or even why he wasn't making some smart remark. Enough of them circled once around his brain before settling idly down, as if they didn't have quite enough fuel to go anywhere.
When he glanced up at Gabriel again, expecting to see some joke or distraction, or maybe even an offer of help disguised as a casual slip of carelessness, he was surprised just slightly out of his mood. The archangel didn't look at all like he had expected.
It was the look of one who understood, and who hurt too in his own way, deep down. Of course, a moment later, both of them smirked and they started to play their game, one making some smart remark and the other countering it. The facade felt forced, and after just a minute, silence had fallen once more.
“I'm gonna go for a drive.” Dean stood up, uncomfortably close to Gabriel, since the archangel hadn't backed away (even though, surely to God... no, surely to Hell, since that seemed to be the only reliable greater power around... he had more of a concept of personal space than Castiel).
And the archangel just kept staying right where he was, just a scant few inches separating their bodies and... their lips.
Dean's eyes fell to the thin, light pink line and watched it for a few moments for Gabriel to shape words in response. They didn't come.
The lips disappeared soundlessly, along with the rest of him.
Dean cursed.
~*~
When the car door slammed shut, Gabriel was in the front seat on the passenger side, just peering at Dean once more in a manner that was so oddly reminiscent of Castiel.
He knew it wasn't like himself, but he wanted to see what the human would do under pressure. No, Gabriel realized after a moment, that wasn't it. He knew exactly what would happen, because sensation and distraction and hiding the pain with a cocky attitude would lead to one thing.
And Gabriel was okay with that. Wanted it, even. Had wanted it for who knew how long. Somewhere in the time between starting his lesson for Sam and the final Tuesday, he'd grown intrigued, and intrigue led to outright curiosity, which led to investigation, which led to some sort of odd friendship that had burst at the seams with what it was trying to contain.
Maybe it couldn't hold out any longer.
Dean started to drive, heading out onto the highway for a place to go and something to look at without having to focus too hard on any one thing. They were alone, the Impala's headlines cutting through the rain and the metal roof sounding like the floor of a shower that was running permanently.
The windshield wipers could hardly keep up, and Gabriel watched Dean's fingers tighten around the wheel.
Finally, the human slammed on the brakes, pulling to the side of the highway and almost jamming the instruments they used to stop the car as if he could stop something else, like the sensation or the words that were coming.
“What, Gabriel?” he snapped, the darkness surrounding them and only the faint light from outside illuminating the edges of their faces.
“Nothing.”
“Bull. Tell me now, or...”
“Or what?” Gabriel's lip quirked up. “You'll turn the car around?”
Dean had to laugh in spite of himself, a quick huff of air that begrudgingly acknowledged the humor, but he schooled his expression into another frown. “Come on.”
There were a few long moments of silence while Gabriel actually considered being serious. Neither of them were good at it, but they'd already been stripped almost bare of hope and faith, so why not? “I... hoped my Father could help. It's... odd to hear that he won't,” he murmured at last, the driving rain on the roof nearly drowning him out.
“Yeah, me too,” Dean sighed, then added, “Us too.”
Silence fell for a few more moments before Dean looked at Gabriel again, something else in his expression. This, Gabriel could definitely handle.
The archangel turned his body towards Dean's slightly, draped his arm casually over the seat back, and gazed.
Dean slid closer, his mind abruptly settling on a course of action and fixing it in his consciousness so he couldn't back out. It was just a quick, warm brush of lips, something unlike what either of them was used to.
It was enough to break whatever was between them.
Dean was pushing against Gabriel, the archangel was pushing back, and they tried hard to let their desperation be completely physical.
Their coats and shoes were shed without second thought, only the rain witness to their gasps as Gabriel began to draw on his vast experience with physical pleasure and Dean did what he had down to an art. Suitable partners for one another, for just this night, if nothing else.
Gabriel was almost surprised to find the handprint on Dean's arm, not that he could miss the scent of Castiel about Dean's physical body and deeper, and when he got Dean's overshirt off, he slid his hand up the short arm of Dean's t-shirt to lay his fingers over the finger marks of the reddened skin.
The response was primal and instinctive in Dean, who immediately pressed closer and sank down against Gabriel, but the archangel wouldn't complain. He let Dean strip his own shirt off in response, let Dean run those callused hunters' hands over his chest, let Dean kiss him hot and dirty.
He let Dean slip a hand inside his pants, his Grace almost vibrating at the sensation of rough skin against firm and sensitive. His hips fell into an easy rhythm for a minute while his breathing fell out of rhythm, and he knew his cheeks were flushing with heat now.
Dean let him return the favor, and they were soon mostly-naked in a tangle of clothes around their knees and hard dicks and fast kisses.
Gabriel noticed that Dean didn't ask permission, and the archangel didn't give it, but he was still moaning in a way that didn't befit the right-hand warrior of... no, he wouldn't even think it. He was done thinking about his family, at least, for now. He just wanted to think about Dean. Only Dean.
The human certainly persuaded him to do so, too. The clever finger quested inside him, joined by a second and a third, and the archangel was spread under Dean, one leg propped on the dashboard and the other pressed against the divide between the seat and the back.
Dean was in him, moving and moaning and not caring at all how much the car shook, and Gabriel wholeheartedly agreed with this attitude, fingernails digging in and teeth marking Dean's ear, neck, lips, as his... at least, for now.
It wasn't long at all before Dean was tensing up inside him, crying out Gabriel's name without fully realizing he was doing it, and that breathless, helpless leap over the edge into ecstasy had the archangel following suit.
It was quiet for a little time afterwards, when Dean had half-heartedly mopped them up with a few spare tissues, doing what he could while Gabriel's arm remained firmly around his waist.
At last, Dean spoke up, “Look, it's not that--”
“I know,” Gabriel said simply.
“You know that I--”
“Yes.”
“Are you--”
“No, Dean,” Gabriel murmured simply, keeping his arm where it was and keeping the warm human body against him as he felt the tension subside in it. “Any shelter in a storm, huh?”
After a moment of silence, the piercing hazel eyes that had been dismantling him closed, and the tension disappeared completely. “Yeah.”
Author: bagheera_101
Rating: R
Character: Gabriel/Dean
Word Count: 1942
Warnings: Unconventional pairing, first time trying it, angsty, Gabriel's identities, unapologetic time-bending
Spoilers: Blanket S5 for safety
Prompt: 27: Shelter
A/N: You know the drill by now. Tired. Getting better but still sick. Feeling like trying out an unusual pairing that I've never written before but makes me curious (I really need to explore totally new pairings while sick like a hole in the head!) Also, I screwed with the timeline without checking if it makes sense. They're temporarily my playtoys, so I'll mold them as I wish. :P
Summary: They're more alike than either of them will admit, and when a storm hits, they'll seek any shelter.
Dean didn't know how that damn angel had done it, but Gabriel had managed to work his way into his life. Not quickly, not boldly and not in a typical, Trickster-style, in-your-face sort of move... but slowly, like the slinking of shadows across the motel parking lot as summer evening turned to night.
He'd just suddenly show up during a hunt and offer a timely piece of advice to save Dean and Sam from getting chopped in half by the latest monster of the week, or he'd saunter into the diner when they were having a frustrating morning and couldn't find a decent hunt, accidentally leaving behind a paper from a nearby state.
Once, the annoyingly self-satisfied dick had even had the nerve to stitch up a wound they would have had to go to a hospital over, then rub in that they owed him a favour and vanish.
So why the hell did he look forward to seeing Gabriel these days?
~*~
Gabriel watched the Winchester boys whenever he could. Their life was practically a TV show, after all, and a lot more interesting than most reruns on TV over the summer. There was horror that almost made him cringe (but not quite), the rare bit of emotional drama that would catch his interest, a near-constant banter and comedic element... oh, yes, he liked watching them.
It meant that he was paying close attention to their responses and the feelings that weren't being spoken about when they discovered that God... just didn't care anymore. Perhaps a small, hidden part of him still cared for his father, just as Dean and Sam still felt for theirs, whether or not either of their dads had been decent at their roles.
Without even really thinking about it, he appeared there in the quiet motel room, gazing back and forth between the humans there and his younger brother, on the run and so very young and lost. Poor Castiel, he couldn't help but think. Idealistic, like most young angels, fervently wanting to believe in his own father and then hearing something like this.
Dean was seated on the bed closest to the TV, legs spread slightly and elbows propped on his denim-clad knees. There was a beer bottle in his hand, but he seemed more preoccupied with staring into it than drinking.
His younger and lankier brother, Sam, sat at the table on the rickety motel chair, gazing at his closed laptop as if he wasn't sure if he should open it or throw it out the window.
Leaning against the wall, his eyes turned upwards to the ceiling as if it would miraculously offer words of comfort, Castiel didn't say anything. His trenchcoat was open and crooked as usual, tie askew and collar badly in need of ironing. The look in his eyes was the worst part.
None of them looked particularly surprised to see him. He got a grunt from Sam, a slight nod from Castiel, and an unreadable look from Dean, who caught his eyes and held them for a second.
Sam broke the silence.
“I'm gonna get something to drink. Cas, you want something?”
There was a long pause.
“Cas?”
The angel dragged his eyes to Sam's face, then seemed to realize that Sam was attempting to give Dean and Gabriel privacy. He nodded once, trailing Sam out the door like a lost puppy who had found some small sense of direction for just a few minutes.
Gabriel knew they'd be outside for a while, because they needed to talk over what they felt as their faith imploded on itself, and because Sam was a good little brother. He headed to the bed, stood in front of Dean and just gazed at him.
~*~
Dean really didn't know why the archangel had shown up, why the others had suddenly left, or even why he wasn't making some smart remark. Enough of them circled once around his brain before settling idly down, as if they didn't have quite enough fuel to go anywhere.
When he glanced up at Gabriel again, expecting to see some joke or distraction, or maybe even an offer of help disguised as a casual slip of carelessness, he was surprised just slightly out of his mood. The archangel didn't look at all like he had expected.
It was the look of one who understood, and who hurt too in his own way, deep down. Of course, a moment later, both of them smirked and they started to play their game, one making some smart remark and the other countering it. The facade felt forced, and after just a minute, silence had fallen once more.
“I'm gonna go for a drive.” Dean stood up, uncomfortably close to Gabriel, since the archangel hadn't backed away (even though, surely to God... no, surely to Hell, since that seemed to be the only reliable greater power around... he had more of a concept of personal space than Castiel).
And the archangel just kept staying right where he was, just a scant few inches separating their bodies and... their lips.
Dean's eyes fell to the thin, light pink line and watched it for a few moments for Gabriel to shape words in response. They didn't come.
The lips disappeared soundlessly, along with the rest of him.
Dean cursed.
~*~
When the car door slammed shut, Gabriel was in the front seat on the passenger side, just peering at Dean once more in a manner that was so oddly reminiscent of Castiel.
He knew it wasn't like himself, but he wanted to see what the human would do under pressure. No, Gabriel realized after a moment, that wasn't it. He knew exactly what would happen, because sensation and distraction and hiding the pain with a cocky attitude would lead to one thing.
And Gabriel was okay with that. Wanted it, even. Had wanted it for who knew how long. Somewhere in the time between starting his lesson for Sam and the final Tuesday, he'd grown intrigued, and intrigue led to outright curiosity, which led to investigation, which led to some sort of odd friendship that had burst at the seams with what it was trying to contain.
Maybe it couldn't hold out any longer.
Dean started to drive, heading out onto the highway for a place to go and something to look at without having to focus too hard on any one thing. They were alone, the Impala's headlines cutting through the rain and the metal roof sounding like the floor of a shower that was running permanently.
The windshield wipers could hardly keep up, and Gabriel watched Dean's fingers tighten around the wheel.
Finally, the human slammed on the brakes, pulling to the side of the highway and almost jamming the instruments they used to stop the car as if he could stop something else, like the sensation or the words that were coming.
“What, Gabriel?” he snapped, the darkness surrounding them and only the faint light from outside illuminating the edges of their faces.
“Nothing.”
“Bull. Tell me now, or...”
“Or what?” Gabriel's lip quirked up. “You'll turn the car around?”
Dean had to laugh in spite of himself, a quick huff of air that begrudgingly acknowledged the humor, but he schooled his expression into another frown. “Come on.”
There were a few long moments of silence while Gabriel actually considered being serious. Neither of them were good at it, but they'd already been stripped almost bare of hope and faith, so why not? “I... hoped my Father could help. It's... odd to hear that he won't,” he murmured at last, the driving rain on the roof nearly drowning him out.
“Yeah, me too,” Dean sighed, then added, “Us too.”
Silence fell for a few more moments before Dean looked at Gabriel again, something else in his expression. This, Gabriel could definitely handle.
The archangel turned his body towards Dean's slightly, draped his arm casually over the seat back, and gazed.
Dean slid closer, his mind abruptly settling on a course of action and fixing it in his consciousness so he couldn't back out. It was just a quick, warm brush of lips, something unlike what either of them was used to.
It was enough to break whatever was between them.
Dean was pushing against Gabriel, the archangel was pushing back, and they tried hard to let their desperation be completely physical.
Their coats and shoes were shed without second thought, only the rain witness to their gasps as Gabriel began to draw on his vast experience with physical pleasure and Dean did what he had down to an art. Suitable partners for one another, for just this night, if nothing else.
Gabriel was almost surprised to find the handprint on Dean's arm, not that he could miss the scent of Castiel about Dean's physical body and deeper, and when he got Dean's overshirt off, he slid his hand up the short arm of Dean's t-shirt to lay his fingers over the finger marks of the reddened skin.
The response was primal and instinctive in Dean, who immediately pressed closer and sank down against Gabriel, but the archangel wouldn't complain. He let Dean strip his own shirt off in response, let Dean run those callused hunters' hands over his chest, let Dean kiss him hot and dirty.
He let Dean slip a hand inside his pants, his Grace almost vibrating at the sensation of rough skin against firm and sensitive. His hips fell into an easy rhythm for a minute while his breathing fell out of rhythm, and he knew his cheeks were flushing with heat now.
Dean let him return the favor, and they were soon mostly-naked in a tangle of clothes around their knees and hard dicks and fast kisses.
Gabriel noticed that Dean didn't ask permission, and the archangel didn't give it, but he was still moaning in a way that didn't befit the right-hand warrior of... no, he wouldn't even think it. He was done thinking about his family, at least, for now. He just wanted to think about Dean. Only Dean.
The human certainly persuaded him to do so, too. The clever finger quested inside him, joined by a second and a third, and the archangel was spread under Dean, one leg propped on the dashboard and the other pressed against the divide between the seat and the back.
Dean was in him, moving and moaning and not caring at all how much the car shook, and Gabriel wholeheartedly agreed with this attitude, fingernails digging in and teeth marking Dean's ear, neck, lips, as his... at least, for now.
It wasn't long at all before Dean was tensing up inside him, crying out Gabriel's name without fully realizing he was doing it, and that breathless, helpless leap over the edge into ecstasy had the archangel following suit.
It was quiet for a little time afterwards, when Dean had half-heartedly mopped them up with a few spare tissues, doing what he could while Gabriel's arm remained firmly around his waist.
At last, Dean spoke up, “Look, it's not that--”
“I know,” Gabriel said simply.
“You know that I--”
“Yes.”
“Are you--”
“No, Dean,” Gabriel murmured simply, keeping his arm where it was and keeping the warm human body against him as he felt the tension subside in it. “Any shelter in a storm, huh?”
After a moment of silence, the piercing hazel eyes that had been dismantling him closed, and the tension disappeared completely. “Yeah.”