Fic: Old Acquaintances
Title: Old Acquaintances
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1300
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: In no way mine, or anything to do with me, I own nothing.
Summary: "No," Sam says into the pillow. "I still don't want to make eggnog with you."
AN: Written for denazia
Sam's phone is going again. It's vibrating enthusiastically across the nightstand with the sort of irritating persistence that he can't help but feel is familiar. He continues to stare at the ceiling and ignore it. He's gotten pretty good at ignoring it. It ambles its way across the wood in excitable judders, immune to Sam's vast reserves of patience. He's prepared to ignore it forever. The same way he's mostly been ignoring the constant and irritating rush of Christmas songs that have been infecting every radio station as December rolls on. Dean has been annoyingly cheerful about the whole thing, so Sam's not going to feel guilty about being glad of the peace.
Dean's currently next door with Castiel. Where they're most likely staring at each other and still refusing to acknowledge their epic, gay love. Their unspoken, epic, gay love is the reason Sam's no longer sharing with him. Because the last five times Castiel had flapped in wearing his 'Dean I have serious things I must discuss with you' face, there had been more long and awkward periods of silence than actual talking about anything.
Sam never thought he'd want Dean to just admit he's in love with a guy and get it over with. But, hey, they're two years past the apocalypse. Sometimes the future surprises you. If Dean wants an angel then, hell, he should have an angel. After all the shit he's been through he deserves one, though not in a creepy lucky dip way, obviously. It's not like Castiel would resist all that hard. He's all 'let me teach you how to sword-fight by plastering myself all over you' and 'let me stand two inches away like we never had any of those conversations about personal space.' Castiel is earnest and terrifying and obvious. Sam had honestly thought Dean was smarter than this, or at least more reckless. More willing to take risks. Willing to take the bull by the horns...so to speak.
Sam smirks at the ceiling.
Either way Dean needs to catch a clue before Sam goes completely mad. The vague, fuzzy knowledge that he spent a year in hell he can deal with. Watching his older brother pine in manly silence - that one might very well do him in.
His phone vibrates once and Sam turns his head on the pillow just far enough to glare at it. He sighs, though there's no one else around to properly appreciate the air of suffering.
Five minutes after he's rolled over and resolutely ignored Gabriel's text, the bed jumps like someone has just thrown themself on the end of it.
"No," Sam says into the pillow. "I still don't want to make eggnog with you."
"Sam," Gabriel says firmly. "You're making my plan to get you drunk and take advantage of you much more complicated than it needs to be."
Sam lifts his head off the pillow just long enough to glare through his hair. Gabriel's sprawled on the end of the bed, shoes thrown over each other, looking for all the world like he belongs there. Sam resists the urge to kick him straight off, and buries his head in the pillow again.
There's a rustle and Gabriel knees him in the back of the leg on his way up the bed.
Then there's the vague waft of peppermint under Sam's nose.
"Candy cane?"
"No."
"Snowman shaped chocolate tree decoration?"
It's jiggled in front of his face.
"No."
"Marzipan giraffe."
"No -" Sam squints. "That's not a giraffe, that's a reindeer."
Gabriel swivels it and frowns at it, then shrugs and bites off its head. Sam gives up on trying to convince himself that Gabriel will go away if he ignores him. He drags himself to a sit and lets his head thud back against the wall.
"Do you really have nothing better to do than harass me?"
"Never," Gabriel says with a grin that should be illegal. "Besides, Christmas is a huge deal to the pagan gods. Now is the time people make sacrifices to the Old Gods of Winter so they don't freeze your people to death. Delicious sacrifices."
Sam sighs. "Human sacrifices? Because I really don't want to have to work during the holidays."
"Not recently, not to me anyway." Gabriel manages to sound like that's probably a good thing.
"It sounds jolly," Sam offers, and he really hopes the sarcasm comes across there, because he used a lot of it.
Gabriel nods. "There was a tragic lack of tinsel in the old days, but they had drinks that made eggnog look like vanilla milkshake."
"You're an angel," Sam says curiously. "Isn't this all a little bit...in bad taste."
Gabriel waves a hand, like bad taste is something he doesn't tend to worry about.
"You really don't find it difficult working two jobs?" Sam presses, because he's always been just a little bit curious.
Gabriel makes a rude noise. "Beneath this awesome exterior I'm all angel when I need to be."
Sam squints at him.
"You actually look more like an elf," he says honestly.
Gabriel cuts him a look that obviously isn't sure whether to be insulted or amused
"Nasty creatures elves. They'd carve your heart out with a spoon and eat it rather than say hello." Gabriel pulls another candy cane out of his pocket and offers it over. Sam surprises himself by actually sliding to the edge of the bed and taking it. Though he stares at it dubiously for a second before he actually puts it in his mouth.
He keeps his suspicious face until he's sure it's just a candy cane - probably just a candy cane.
"So what are the both of you doing shut up in a motel on Christmas Eve?" Gabriel asks.
"Trust me, we're lucky if we spend Christmas not getting eaten by something. Absolutely nothing happening at all is good enough for me. It's like a religious experience."
"Would you like to have a religious experience," Gabriel's eyebrows twitch upwards. "I could give you a religious experience if you like."
Sam pulls a face at him over a mouthful of candy cane. "Seriously, how have you not been fired by now?"
Gabriel’s head tips slowly sideways, like he's listening to something Sam can't hear.
Sam chews, swallows. "What?"
Gabriel puts his foot on the floor, stands up, and then without any sort of warning at all he drops into Sam's lap, tugs his head up in warm hands and kisses him.
The door to Sam's room opens with a click.
"Sam -" Castiel's voice is familiar enough and Sam makes a confused, panicked noise that Gabriel smothers quiet. He tastes like candy canes and cinnamon, warm and sticky and he's stronger than Sam knows what to do with.
The door is shut, the door is shut and Castiel is gone and for some mad reason Sam's still holding Gabriel's weight. He still has a hand curled round his shoulder, thumb pressed into the curve of his neck. His mouth is still open and Gabriel is still taking advantage of it, with a shameless ferocity that turns all Sam's intentions to stop this right now upside down.
Until Gabriel pulls away - and Sam has the oddest urge to hang onto his waist, though Gabriel doesn’t try and move off his lap.
"What the hell was that about?" Sam demands.
Gabriel holds up a finger in a perfectly recognisable 'wait for it' gesture.
Exactly ten seconds later there's a 'thud' from next door when something hits the wall.
Sam raises an eyebrow.
Gabriel nods. "Tell your brother I said Merry Christmas."
Which, ok, yes. Sam will admit that it's about time and if Gabriel can do with anvils what Sam has so far been too chicken to do then fine. But Sam's more than a little irritated at being used like that. He wraps his hands round Gabriel's waist and goes to push him off.
Gabriel drops his hands and grabs Sam's wrists.
"Did I say I was done with you?"
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1300
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: In no way mine, or anything to do with me, I own nothing.
Summary: "No," Sam says into the pillow. "I still don't want to make eggnog with you."
AN: Written for denazia
Sam's phone is going again. It's vibrating enthusiastically across the nightstand with the sort of irritating persistence that he can't help but feel is familiar. He continues to stare at the ceiling and ignore it. He's gotten pretty good at ignoring it. It ambles its way across the wood in excitable judders, immune to Sam's vast reserves of patience. He's prepared to ignore it forever. The same way he's mostly been ignoring the constant and irritating rush of Christmas songs that have been infecting every radio station as December rolls on. Dean has been annoyingly cheerful about the whole thing, so Sam's not going to feel guilty about being glad of the peace.
Dean's currently next door with Castiel. Where they're most likely staring at each other and still refusing to acknowledge their epic, gay love. Their unspoken, epic, gay love is the reason Sam's no longer sharing with him. Because the last five times Castiel had flapped in wearing his 'Dean I have serious things I must discuss with you' face, there had been more long and awkward periods of silence than actual talking about anything.
Sam never thought he'd want Dean to just admit he's in love with a guy and get it over with. But, hey, they're two years past the apocalypse. Sometimes the future surprises you. If Dean wants an angel then, hell, he should have an angel. After all the shit he's been through he deserves one, though not in a creepy lucky dip way, obviously. It's not like Castiel would resist all that hard. He's all 'let me teach you how to sword-fight by plastering myself all over you' and 'let me stand two inches away like we never had any of those conversations about personal space.' Castiel is earnest and terrifying and obvious. Sam had honestly thought Dean was smarter than this, or at least more reckless. More willing to take risks. Willing to take the bull by the horns...so to speak.
Sam smirks at the ceiling.
Either way Dean needs to catch a clue before Sam goes completely mad. The vague, fuzzy knowledge that he spent a year in hell he can deal with. Watching his older brother pine in manly silence - that one might very well do him in.
His phone vibrates once and Sam turns his head on the pillow just far enough to glare at it. He sighs, though there's no one else around to properly appreciate the air of suffering.
Five minutes after he's rolled over and resolutely ignored Gabriel's text, the bed jumps like someone has just thrown themself on the end of it.
"No," Sam says into the pillow. "I still don't want to make eggnog with you."
"Sam," Gabriel says firmly. "You're making my plan to get you drunk and take advantage of you much more complicated than it needs to be."
Sam lifts his head off the pillow just long enough to glare through his hair. Gabriel's sprawled on the end of the bed, shoes thrown over each other, looking for all the world like he belongs there. Sam resists the urge to kick him straight off, and buries his head in the pillow again.
There's a rustle and Gabriel knees him in the back of the leg on his way up the bed.
Then there's the vague waft of peppermint under Sam's nose.
"Candy cane?"
"No."
"Snowman shaped chocolate tree decoration?"
It's jiggled in front of his face.
"No."
"Marzipan giraffe."
"No -" Sam squints. "That's not a giraffe, that's a reindeer."
Gabriel swivels it and frowns at it, then shrugs and bites off its head. Sam gives up on trying to convince himself that Gabriel will go away if he ignores him. He drags himself to a sit and lets his head thud back against the wall.
"Do you really have nothing better to do than harass me?"
"Never," Gabriel says with a grin that should be illegal. "Besides, Christmas is a huge deal to the pagan gods. Now is the time people make sacrifices to the Old Gods of Winter so they don't freeze your people to death. Delicious sacrifices."
Sam sighs. "Human sacrifices? Because I really don't want to have to work during the holidays."
"Not recently, not to me anyway." Gabriel manages to sound like that's probably a good thing.
"It sounds jolly," Sam offers, and he really hopes the sarcasm comes across there, because he used a lot of it.
Gabriel nods. "There was a tragic lack of tinsel in the old days, but they had drinks that made eggnog look like vanilla milkshake."
"You're an angel," Sam says curiously. "Isn't this all a little bit...in bad taste."
Gabriel waves a hand, like bad taste is something he doesn't tend to worry about.
"You really don't find it difficult working two jobs?" Sam presses, because he's always been just a little bit curious.
Gabriel makes a rude noise. "Beneath this awesome exterior I'm all angel when I need to be."
Sam squints at him.
"You actually look more like an elf," he says honestly.
Gabriel cuts him a look that obviously isn't sure whether to be insulted or amused
"Nasty creatures elves. They'd carve your heart out with a spoon and eat it rather than say hello." Gabriel pulls another candy cane out of his pocket and offers it over. Sam surprises himself by actually sliding to the edge of the bed and taking it. Though he stares at it dubiously for a second before he actually puts it in his mouth.
He keeps his suspicious face until he's sure it's just a candy cane - probably just a candy cane.
"So what are the both of you doing shut up in a motel on Christmas Eve?" Gabriel asks.
"Trust me, we're lucky if we spend Christmas not getting eaten by something. Absolutely nothing happening at all is good enough for me. It's like a religious experience."
"Would you like to have a religious experience," Gabriel's eyebrows twitch upwards. "I could give you a religious experience if you like."
Sam pulls a face at him over a mouthful of candy cane. "Seriously, how have you not been fired by now?"
Gabriel’s head tips slowly sideways, like he's listening to something Sam can't hear.
Sam chews, swallows. "What?"
Gabriel puts his foot on the floor, stands up, and then without any sort of warning at all he drops into Sam's lap, tugs his head up in warm hands and kisses him.
The door to Sam's room opens with a click.
"Sam -" Castiel's voice is familiar enough and Sam makes a confused, panicked noise that Gabriel smothers quiet. He tastes like candy canes and cinnamon, warm and sticky and he's stronger than Sam knows what to do with.
The door is shut, the door is shut and Castiel is gone and for some mad reason Sam's still holding Gabriel's weight. He still has a hand curled round his shoulder, thumb pressed into the curve of his neck. His mouth is still open and Gabriel is still taking advantage of it, with a shameless ferocity that turns all Sam's intentions to stop this right now upside down.
Until Gabriel pulls away - and Sam has the oddest urge to hang onto his waist, though Gabriel doesn’t try and move off his lap.
"What the hell was that about?" Sam demands.
Gabriel holds up a finger in a perfectly recognisable 'wait for it' gesture.
Exactly ten seconds later there's a 'thud' from next door when something hits the wall.
Sam raises an eyebrow.
Gabriel nods. "Tell your brother I said Merry Christmas."
Which, ok, yes. Sam will admit that it's about time and if Gabriel can do with anvils what Sam has so far been too chicken to do then fine. But Sam's more than a little irritated at being used like that. He wraps his hands round Gabriel's waist and goes to push him off.
Gabriel drops his hands and grabs Sam's wrists.
"Did I say I was done with you?"