Six Years Later
Title: Six Years Later
Author: confetticas
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: This is a sequel to The Morning After (During?). Crack, of course. And as you know: Sam/Gabriel/Thor/Michael. (IDEK, STILL, lol)
Spoilers: I’m not entirely sure but I’m pretty sure that nothing after season 5 is spoiled at all.
Warnings: Language mostly, some insinuations. Crack. Lots of crack.
Word Count: 1,065
Summary: Six years after one VERY crazy night out, Sam’s ‘boyfriends’ are sick of being his dirty little secret, and take matters into their own hands. Or, Dean finds out.
Author’s Note(s): So, yeah. There was originally not going to be a sequel. At all. The thought didn’t even cross my mind to begin with, but then… I don’t know what happened, but THIS popped into my head and demanded to be written. So here it is. Also, very important, I have to give a very HUGE thank you to nileflood, without whom this fic would probably not ever have been finished, because as demanding as it was to be written, it was also very confused on how it should end, lol. My folder of never-to-be-finished-fics is very appreciative that it wasn’t added to (again). Huge thanks, seriously!!!
Sam disconnectedly notes Dean pulling his gun, stepping warily towards the man - god - sitting on Sam’s bed with a scowl, but mostly he’s too busy freaking the fuck out because ohgodDean’sgoingtofindout to care. It isn’t like Dean can actually hurt Thor, although it might be mildly amusing to watch him try.
Thor clears his throat, paying absolutely no attention to Dean or his gun, his eyes on Sam, and says plainly, “I need your assistance, Sam.”
The last time Thor said that phrase, he wanted a blowjob. Sam is totally entitled to think that Thor is just fucking around. Again. He really is. Except that Thor looks serious and Sam can tell just by looking at him that something is very, very wrong.
Fuck. How is this Sam’s life?
“Who the hell are you?!” Dean demands, going a bit high-pitched, which no one will ever, ever tell him. “Sam, who the hell is he?”
It’s nice to know that six years later, their trust issues are still alive and well, Sam muses wryly, rolling his eyes. “Dean, meet Thor. Thor, my big brother Dean.”
Thor gives Dean a once over. “This is Dean?” there’s a faint note of disbelief in his voice.
“Never mind that,” Sam says hastily, because he can really see that conversation ending very, very badly. “What did you need? This had better not be like last time,” he attempts to joke.
Thor grins, amused and smug and not minding at all that he’ll never live that down. “Well, I wouldn’t turn down a blowjob, but no, I’m serious. Loki’s in trouble.”
“Loki? Fucking Gabriel? What the fuck, Sam?!” Dean bellows, gesturing wildly with his gun in a way that makes Sam decidedly uncomfortable.
Sam pinches the bridge of his nose and thinks, rather stupidly (after almost six years, he should totally know better), ohgod, I need help. Before he can even open his mouth to attempt to defend his ‘questionable taste in friends’, Michael appears on the other side of the room, looking alarmed and ready to kick ass. Frankly, Sam muses with mostly insincere misery, it’s a flat out miracle that Michael has never shown up in front of Dean thinking that he needs to save Sam’s ass before now. Sam has a tendency to think stupid things whilst forgetting that archangels like to listen in on his thoughts because they have no respect for anyone’s privacy. Ahem.
“Another false alarm?” Michael sighs, giving Sam a mildly annoyed look, because Sam totally asked Michael to show up every time Sam thinks anything remotely close to the idea that he needs help.
“It’s good that you’re here,” Thor interrupts seriously.
Michael takes one long look at Thor’s face and groans. “What did he do this time?”
Thor rolls his eyes. “It isn’t Gabriel’s fault that your family is dysfunctional and emotionally retarded,” he points out reasonably. Which is entirely comical and someday when he doesn’t have a bunch of angels and gods peeking in on his thoughts, Sam is going to laugh his ass off at the sheer hypocrisy of this statement.
“WE didn’t make his choices for him,” Michael corrects, and yes, Sam thinks exasperatedly, they are STILL having this fight. They’ve been speaking again for seven years and screwing for almost six, but they are, in fact, STILL HAVING THIS FIGHT. Fuck, Sam wants to smack them both upside the head, except that he sort of doesn’t want to break every bone in his hand. “What did he do?” Michael repeats tiredly.
“Oh ye of little faith,” Gabriel’s terminally chipper voice quips from directly behind Dean. Dean jumps, yelps like a little girl, and then glares at Gabriel murderously as he steps away. “I didn’t do anything but… be really, spectacularly awesome!” he punches his fist in the air, smug and triumphant, “Take that, Sammy-Sam-Sam! You’ll tell him when you’re dying, my ass.”
Sam’s jaw drops in utter disbelief and outrage. “You - you didn’t - all of you?” he asks, seeming decidedly wounded.
Michael shrugs and leans gracefully against the wall, not at all ashamed. “I told you I don’t approve of lying.”
“It was funny,” Thor admits with a grin. “Plus, we don’t have to sneak around anymore. And you totally no longer have an excuse - I’m taking you home to meet my father.”
Sam whimpers, and he isn’t ashamed to admit it, because fuck no. “Just, no. I’m not speaking to any of you,” he insists, totally not pouting. Because he doesn’t pout, Dean. Gabriel, you aren’t funny. Sam glares some more, because they all deserve it. “At all.”
Dean takes a second to look at all four of them like they’re aliens and he can’t even comprehend that they exist, let alone that they’re in his motel room. “Sam,” he says, slowly.
Sam cringes a little. “Yeah, Dean?”
Dean opens his mouth, then closes it, and bursts into laughter.
Sam crosses his arms and glowers. “What?” he seethes bitterly.
“This? Is Karma,” Dean expresses through his laughter. “You lie to me and your three boyfriends - really, three, Sam? You needed three? - set you up to have to tell the truth. I mean, one boyfriend gets me in enough shit, you really thought three was a good idea? Where have you even been, have you seen the crap Cas and I get into? I wish you the best of luck, little bro. You’re going to need it,” Dean finishes solemnly, his lips twitching violently as he tries not to burst into laughter again.
Michael’s eyes are sparkling with humor as he says, very calmly, “Turn around, Dean.”
Dean twists his head slightly to see behind him, and grins weakly in greeting, “Hey, Cas.”
“Hello, Dean,” Castiel looks very, very amused. “I see Sam finally told you about -”
Dean’s eyes widen and then narrow in fury and he turns around all the way to face Castiel, angrier than he’s been with Cas in years. “You fucking knew?” he demands angrily, hands balled into fists at his sides.
Sam slowly backs into Thor, absolutely not sticking around for more fighting and bitching courtesy of his brother and his brother’s angel, “Time to go,” he murmurs softly, eyeing his brother and Cas with extreme caution and no small amount of worry. “Hell, at this point, I’m totally up for that awkward family dinner, just get me out of here. Now.”