Shade Of Empty
Title: Shade Of Empty
Author: paracaerouvoar
Rating: Uh, soft R
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Summary: Written for #AllThingsHoly's summer exchange over on deviantART Prompts were Sam/Gabe, alone time after a hunt.
Warning: Umm, minor gore. boykissing.
Team Free Will (as they’d been dubbed by their newest member) limped through the doors to their motel rooms (separate rooms had been Dean’s idea, and Sam welcomed it. He’d lost count of how many times he’d walked in on Dean doing... someone. Man, woman, Dean didn’t seem to discriminate, sticking to Sam’s ‘anything with a pulse’ theory about his brother), clutching arms or heads, wherever the blood was coming from, generally. Well, three of the four limped. One bounced, licking chocolate off his fingers in an altogether indecent way, in Sam’s opinion. He rolled his eyes, instantly regretting it as the cut in his eyebrow opened up again, a trickle of red leaking into his eye. ‘Son of a bitch,’ he growled, rubbing at the cut with the arm not attached to the dislocated shoulder.
Gabriel looked up through thick eyelashes, still licking chocolate off the pad of his thumb. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he mumbled.
‘I’m not,’ Sam protested, well aware his voice took on the petulant tone of his teenage years when faced with the archangel. ‘It hurts.’
Gabriel rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and disappearing. Sam frowned slightly, shifting so his dislocated shoulder didn’t hang so awkwardly before turning round and almost tripping over the small stack of phonebooks and the archangel perched on them, peering at his face now they were on something close to eyelevel. Another snap of his fingers and the sluggish trail of blood slowed and stopped. Sam growled half heartedly. ‘Dude, don’t mojo me,’
Gabriel grinned. ‘Like you could stop me,’ he retorted, snapping his fingers again and slotting Sam’s shoulder back into place with a feeling that wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Not that he was going to make a habit of dislocating his shoulder just to pop it back in painlessly. He eyed it critically, before shifting his gaze back to the angel in front of him, still standing far too close.
‘Uhh, you wanna move back a little?’ he tried, speaking past the lump in his throat that wasn’t there before. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was there.
Gabriel’s lips curled up again, a glint of something in his eyes. ‘Not really,’ he smirked, moving closer still.
Sam licked at his lips with a sandpaper tongue, gnawing the inside of his cheek as he looked into hazel eyes, neither daring to move. Gabriel bites his lip, statue still the way only he can be, until suddenly, he isn’t. Soft lips pressed against Sam’s briefly, before pulling away, and Sam wanted to complain, lower lip falling into a pout as the warmth lifted away. Gabriel looked at him, a calculating glance until Sam grasped at the smaller man’s shirt collar, pulling him close until their noses almost touched, and he could feel Gabriel’s breath hot on his face. Gabriel blinked once, his gaze almost unyielding until Sam moved, crushing their lips together, tracing the angel’s lower one with his tongue and eliciting a shiver that ran down Gabriel’s spine. Sam could feel it through his hands, wrapped firmly around the smaller man’s waist. Gabriel’s lips parted to allow Sam’s tongue access, and his hands came up to fist in Sam’s hair, tugging on the dark tendrils. Sam could feel the heat pouring off Gabriel in waves, his skin burning hot to the touch, almost sizzling when Sam pressed on the pulse point in the angel’s neck with the pad of his thumb, and he drew away mere millimetres, his words tickling Gabriel’s chin ‘You’re hot,’ he barely mouthed the words, sucking on the angel’s jawbone.
He felt his lips curve upwards again more than saw them. ‘Tell me something I don’t know, babe,’
‘No, I mean,’ Sam paused for a second, trying to see past the fog of lust clouding his thoughts for the right words. ‘You’re warm. Literally... almost like, like a fever.’
Gabriel chuckled, the air shifting Sam’s bangs. ‘Yeah, angels run a little hotter and faster than humans.’ He reached down to where Sam’s arms were twined around his waist and lifted one hand up to his heart. ‘We have about 85 beats per minute to a human’s 75, and our normal body temp is about 107.’
Sam frowned, his mouth tilting downwards. ‘Why?’
One side of Gabriel’s smile lifted even more, giving him a lopsided smirk. ‘Beats me, kid. Why do you want to know now?’ he asked, with a pointed look downwards at the denim covered erections they were both sporting.
Sam shrugged, reattaching his lips to Gabriel’s jaw, placing open mouthed kisses along it and down his neck, biting gently at his collarbone and nuzzling under his shirt collar as Gabriel’s moans of pleasure gave way to mewling and panting. Sam drew back again eyes roaming over a debauched looking archangel, pupils blown, lips kiss swollen and red, hair sticking up at angles it hadn’t been before. He was sure he looked just as rumpled. Gabriel licked his lips awkwardly, and puffed his bangs out of his eyes. ‘Damn, Winchester...’
Sam grinned awkwardly, a flush spreading across his neck. Gabriel leaned forward, a predatory look in his eye. ‘I didn’t say stop,’ he growled, claiming Sam’s lips with his own, licking his way into the younger man’s mouth and tasting every corner of him. Sam clawed at the angel’s hips, blunt nails digging into supple skin, running his hands under Gabriel’s shirt and up his spine, his back all supple skin and whipcord muscle. Gabriel shuddered into the touch, whine vibrating through Sam’s kiss to the back of his throat, and he hummed in pleasure. Gabriel’s knees buckled, sending the pair careening backwards, landing on the bed as his teeth tugged on Sam’s lower lip, the landing softened by his angel mojo. He pulled away slightly, pressing kisses all over Sam’s jaw and neck, muttering between kisses. ‘Need you Sam, need you like breathing,’ he whimpered, pawing at the buttons on the hunter’s shirt.
Sam keened, arching his neck as Gabriel ran slender fingers over the pulse points there, hands dancing across over sensitised bare skin, the moans coming from deep in the taller man’s chest making the angel’s breath hitch slightly.
Sam had never been more annoyed to hear his cell phone ring. ‘Ignore it,’ Gabriel growled, latching his lips onto Sam’s again.
‘I can’t,’ Sam murmured. ‘It could be Dean, or Bobby. They might need me.’ With an expression that looked perilously close to a pout, he extricated himself from Gabriel’s tangling embrace, dodging a hand that tried to curl around his bicep as he reached the still ringing phone, Dean flashing up on the call ID.
After a short conversation that was still too long and that Sam only half listened to, he hung up, clicking the phone shut and turned back to the angel lounging on his bed, only to find rumpled sheets and unshelled pillows littering the comforter, and no Gabriel, the only sign he’d been there the state of the bed, the flush covering Sam’s cheeks and neck, and the discarded phonebooks sitting in the middle of the room. As Sam stood, watching the empty room, his flush dulled and the phonebooks slowly faded, until the only thing left was an empty, unmade bed, and an aura of being unwanted.
He thought eventually he’d have to get used to that feeling. Not tonight though.
Author: paracaerouvoar
Rating: Uh, soft R
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Summary: Written for #AllThingsHoly's summer exchange over on deviantART Prompts were Sam/Gabe, alone time after a hunt.
Warning: Umm, minor gore. boykissing.
Team Free Will (as they’d been dubbed by their newest member) limped through the doors to their motel rooms (separate rooms had been Dean’s idea, and Sam welcomed it. He’d lost count of how many times he’d walked in on Dean doing... someone. Man, woman, Dean didn’t seem to discriminate, sticking to Sam’s ‘anything with a pulse’ theory about his brother), clutching arms or heads, wherever the blood was coming from, generally. Well, three of the four limped. One bounced, licking chocolate off his fingers in an altogether indecent way, in Sam’s opinion. He rolled his eyes, instantly regretting it as the cut in his eyebrow opened up again, a trickle of red leaking into his eye. ‘Son of a bitch,’ he growled, rubbing at the cut with the arm not attached to the dislocated shoulder.
Gabriel looked up through thick eyelashes, still licking chocolate off the pad of his thumb. ‘Don’t be such a baby,’ he mumbled.
‘I’m not,’ Sam protested, well aware his voice took on the petulant tone of his teenage years when faced with the archangel. ‘It hurts.’
Gabriel rolled his eyes, snapping his fingers and disappearing. Sam frowned slightly, shifting so his dislocated shoulder didn’t hang so awkwardly before turning round and almost tripping over the small stack of phonebooks and the archangel perched on them, peering at his face now they were on something close to eyelevel. Another snap of his fingers and the sluggish trail of blood slowed and stopped. Sam growled half heartedly. ‘Dude, don’t mojo me,’
Gabriel grinned. ‘Like you could stop me,’ he retorted, snapping his fingers again and slotting Sam’s shoulder back into place with a feeling that wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Not that he was going to make a habit of dislocating his shoulder just to pop it back in painlessly. He eyed it critically, before shifting his gaze back to the angel in front of him, still standing far too close.
‘Uhh, you wanna move back a little?’ he tried, speaking past the lump in his throat that wasn’t there before. He wasn’t entirely sure why it was there.
Gabriel’s lips curled up again, a glint of something in his eyes. ‘Not really,’ he smirked, moving closer still.
Sam licked at his lips with a sandpaper tongue, gnawing the inside of his cheek as he looked into hazel eyes, neither daring to move. Gabriel bites his lip, statue still the way only he can be, until suddenly, he isn’t. Soft lips pressed against Sam’s briefly, before pulling away, and Sam wanted to complain, lower lip falling into a pout as the warmth lifted away. Gabriel looked at him, a calculating glance until Sam grasped at the smaller man’s shirt collar, pulling him close until their noses almost touched, and he could feel Gabriel’s breath hot on his face. Gabriel blinked once, his gaze almost unyielding until Sam moved, crushing their lips together, tracing the angel’s lower one with his tongue and eliciting a shiver that ran down Gabriel’s spine. Sam could feel it through his hands, wrapped firmly around the smaller man’s waist. Gabriel’s lips parted to allow Sam’s tongue access, and his hands came up to fist in Sam’s hair, tugging on the dark tendrils. Sam could feel the heat pouring off Gabriel in waves, his skin burning hot to the touch, almost sizzling when Sam pressed on the pulse point in the angel’s neck with the pad of his thumb, and he drew away mere millimetres, his words tickling Gabriel’s chin ‘You’re hot,’ he barely mouthed the words, sucking on the angel’s jawbone.
He felt his lips curve upwards again more than saw them. ‘Tell me something I don’t know, babe,’
‘No, I mean,’ Sam paused for a second, trying to see past the fog of lust clouding his thoughts for the right words. ‘You’re warm. Literally... almost like, like a fever.’
Gabriel chuckled, the air shifting Sam’s bangs. ‘Yeah, angels run a little hotter and faster than humans.’ He reached down to where Sam’s arms were twined around his waist and lifted one hand up to his heart. ‘We have about 85 beats per minute to a human’s 75, and our normal body temp is about 107.’
Sam frowned, his mouth tilting downwards. ‘Why?’
One side of Gabriel’s smile lifted even more, giving him a lopsided smirk. ‘Beats me, kid. Why do you want to know now?’ he asked, with a pointed look downwards at the denim covered erections they were both sporting.
Sam shrugged, reattaching his lips to Gabriel’s jaw, placing open mouthed kisses along it and down his neck, biting gently at his collarbone and nuzzling under his shirt collar as Gabriel’s moans of pleasure gave way to mewling and panting. Sam drew back again eyes roaming over a debauched looking archangel, pupils blown, lips kiss swollen and red, hair sticking up at angles it hadn’t been before. He was sure he looked just as rumpled. Gabriel licked his lips awkwardly, and puffed his bangs out of his eyes. ‘Damn, Winchester...’
Sam grinned awkwardly, a flush spreading across his neck. Gabriel leaned forward, a predatory look in his eye. ‘I didn’t say stop,’ he growled, claiming Sam’s lips with his own, licking his way into the younger man’s mouth and tasting every corner of him. Sam clawed at the angel’s hips, blunt nails digging into supple skin, running his hands under Gabriel’s shirt and up his spine, his back all supple skin and whipcord muscle. Gabriel shuddered into the touch, whine vibrating through Sam’s kiss to the back of his throat, and he hummed in pleasure. Gabriel’s knees buckled, sending the pair careening backwards, landing on the bed as his teeth tugged on Sam’s lower lip, the landing softened by his angel mojo. He pulled away slightly, pressing kisses all over Sam’s jaw and neck, muttering between kisses. ‘Need you Sam, need you like breathing,’ he whimpered, pawing at the buttons on the hunter’s shirt.
Sam keened, arching his neck as Gabriel ran slender fingers over the pulse points there, hands dancing across over sensitised bare skin, the moans coming from deep in the taller man’s chest making the angel’s breath hitch slightly.
Sam had never been more annoyed to hear his cell phone ring. ‘Ignore it,’ Gabriel growled, latching his lips onto Sam’s again.
‘I can’t,’ Sam murmured. ‘It could be Dean, or Bobby. They might need me.’ With an expression that looked perilously close to a pout, he extricated himself from Gabriel’s tangling embrace, dodging a hand that tried to curl around his bicep as he reached the still ringing phone, Dean flashing up on the call ID.
After a short conversation that was still too long and that Sam only half listened to, he hung up, clicking the phone shut and turned back to the angel lounging on his bed, only to find rumpled sheets and unshelled pillows littering the comforter, and no Gabriel, the only sign he’d been there the state of the bed, the flush covering Sam’s cheeks and neck, and the discarded phonebooks sitting in the middle of the room. As Sam stood, watching the empty room, his flush dulled and the phonebooks slowly faded, until the only thing left was an empty, unmade bed, and an aura of being unwanted.
He thought eventually he’d have to get used to that feeling. Not tonight though.