((Supernatural AU)) One More Miracle (Chapter Nine)
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"What's your New Year's resolution?" Gabe asked, and Sam looked up at him lazily, fingers toying with the edge of the blanket that rested at his bare hips. Slowly, he began to smile as he asked, "What?"
Gabe shrugged. "Your New Year's resolution. You gotta have one, kiddo." He pulled the covers up over his chest, lying on his side and propping himself up on one elbow, his cheek resting on his open palm. Sam blinked at him sleepily.
"I dunno," he finally said, drawing the corners of his mouth downward and gently shaking his head. "Never really thought about 'em much before. I don't think I've ever made one."
"Don't you think it's about time you did?" Gabe prompted. He pressed a hand against Sam's shoulder with an excited grin. "Come on, sasquatch. I'll help you."
"I really don't know!" Sam said, chuckling.
"Well it's not that hard. I mean, you obviously don't need to work out more." As he said it, Gabe pulled the sheets up and gazed up and down Sam's body appraisingly, nodding his approval as he fought back a smirk. Sam grabbed the covers and yanked them down again. "Your grades are stellar," Gabe continued thoughtfully. "You get along great with your brother, and you already have an excess of romance in your life." He waggled his eyebrows, and Sam laughed lightly.
"Don't tell my boyfriend, though," he said. "He might get jealous."
"I can keep a secret if you can, sasquatch."
Sam let his head fall back against the mattress, sighing as he did and listening to the soft, distant sound of cars rolling by outside. The light outside had faded, the curtains on the window hiding only the darkness outside. Gabe's bedroom was dimly lit, and full of deep, soothing earth tones and hues of reds and rich browns; it kept him at ease, and feeling warm and secure.
Sam watched upside-down as Gabe maneuvered himself around to sit with his back against the headboard, crossing his legs and draping a pillow over his knees as he gently pulled Sam's head up to rest in his lap. He played with Sam's long hair, muttering something about how Sam needed a haircut as Sam mulled over the question of his goals for the year.
"What is it you want to do this year?" Gabe finally asked him, trying to move the thought process along.
"Graduate for one," Sam offered.
"I don't think that will be an issue."
"Hope not."
"I don't mean in school, though. I mean for you...what d you ant to do?"
"I..." Sam sighed, a strand of hair dancing before his eyes as he did. Gabe brushed it away. He hadn't thought about it at all, really. But the more he mulled it over, the more he began to surprise himself, and he smiled a bit, somewhat wistfully, and said, "I might have an idea...and you'll get a kick out of it, I'm sure."
"Well now I definitely want to know. Lay it on me, kiddo."
"I think...I think I might like to start writing again." Gabe's face did light up at that, just as Sam had expected it to do, if he was being honest. "I mean, I did a lot in high school. It was kind of my own sort of therapy, you know? But after a while I just sort of stopped...Haven't really written much besides essays and homework assignments for the last few years, but I don't know...it might be nice to get back into it."
Gabe planted his hands on either side of Sam's face, staring down at him. "Well when you're a bestselling published author," he said with a grin, "I can sell your work in my shop! That's one of the perks of this relationship, you know. Makes up for the lack of a dental plan, anyway."
"I don't know about bestselling," Sam chuckled. "I don't even know about published."
"Well not if you have that attitude about it!" Gabe chided.
"I guess you never know."
"No, you don't. I bet you got it in you, Sam. You could make the New York Times if you tried. You could be right up there with John Green!" Gabe closed his eyes and let out a breath, looking as if he was concocting some ornate fantasy in his mind. "Oh, Sam..." he breathed. "You know, I'd give my right arm to hear you read poetry."
"What, seriously?" Sam scoffed. "I don't even think I have any of my old poems, not that there were a whole lot. And besides, I doubt they were all that good anyway."
"I'm sure they were fantastic. You know, for the time. I can only imagine the stuff you'd turn out now, though." Gabe's thumb stroked against Sam's jaw, and Sam brought his hand up to hook his fingers around Gabe's thin wrist. "Wouldn't even have to be something you wrote. I'd just love to hear you read something, anything. Just hear it in your voice..." He looked thoughtful for a long moment, and then suddenly broke into a huge grin and pulled away. Sam's head fell back onto the mattress with a soft thump.
"Hey!" Gabe ignored him, leaning over the edge of the bed to dig through his bedside drawer. Finally, he drew out an old battered book that Sam mistook at first for a Bible. Its cover was a deep green color, and its pages were worn and folded and marked in places. He could tell just at a glance that it was well loved.
Gabe shoved the book into Sam's hands and sat back against the headboard, bouncing like an excited child as Sam hauled himself up and stared down at the book. "Seriously?" he asked.
Gabe shrugged. "Humor me," he said. Sam sat back beside him and Gabe ran a lazy hand up Sam's side. "Seriously, Sam, I told you already that I'm a hopeless romantic. If you read poetry to me, I probably won't be able to keep my hands off you." He grinned, and Sam glanced down at his hand, which was still wandering unhurried up and down his torso.
He cocked an eyebrow. "You usually can't anyway." Gabe just gestured at the book, and Sam relented and opened it. "Anything in particular you want to hear?" he asked.
"Just surprise me."
"Frost?" Sam offered, and Gabe grimaced. "No Frost."
"Surprise me with something other than Frost. I never did like the guy." Sam frowned at him. "Ooh...did I touch a nerve?"
"It's fine," Sam assured him. He turned the page and found one he liked, clearing his throat dramatically as Gabe fidgeted beside him. Finally, be began to read:
When first we met she seemed so white
I feared her;
As one might near a spirit bright
I neared her;
An angel pure from heaven above
I dreamed her,
And far too good for human love
I deemed her.
A spirit free from mortal taint
I thought her,
And incense as unto a saint
I brought her.
Well, incense burning did not seem
To please her,
And insolence I feared she’d deem
To squeeze her;
Nor did I dare for that same why
To kiss her,
Lest, shocked, she’d cause my eager eye
To miss her.
I sickened thinking of some way
To win her,
When lo! she asked me, one fine day,
To dinner!
He smiled a bit at that, as did Gabe, warmly, and Gabe's fingers trailed up and down Sam's chest still, lazy and soft, as if they were moving of their own accord now instead of Gabe's; in fact, Gabe seemed to have forgotten them.
Twas thus that made of common flesh
I found her,
And in a mortal lover’s mesh
I wound her.
Embraces, kisses, loving looks
I gave her,
And buying bon-bons, flowers and books,
I save her;
For her few honest, human taints
I love her,
Nor would I change for all the saints
Above her
Those eyes, that little face, that so
Endear her,
And all the human joy I know
When near her;
And I am glad, when to my breast
I press her,
She’s just a woman, like the rest,
God bless her!
"Sam, you sentimental idiot," Gabe breathed, and Sam swore that he sounded near tears. When he glanced down at him Gabe's eyes were shimmering in the low light as Gabe pressed his nose to Sam's collarbone.
"It seemed...fitting," Sam said as he wrapped an arm around him. Gabe pressed a kiss to Sam's chest.
"I'd love to hear what you come up with yourself."
"We'll see," Sam promised. Gabe folded his arms beneath him, resting them atop Sam's chest as he settled his chin on them. He said nothing, but smirked up at Sam, eyes half-lidded, and Sam found himself speaking again: "Gabe?"
"Mm-hmm?" Gabe hummed. Sam's chest tightened, the words sticking there, heavy, demanding to be said, but also refusing to budge; they stubbornly insisted that he come and get them instead, by force. "Are you gonna say something cheesy?" Gabe asked, one eyebrow quirked, and Sam figured that yes, he probably was.
"I just..."
The chiming of his phone interrupted them, and the words settled down below his lungs, burning there. He sighed, muttered an apology instead and reached over for his phone on the bedside table. It was Dean, just as he'd presumed and he answered: "Yeah?"
"Would it kill you to answer a text, dude?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, sorry, I ah..." He glanced back at Gabe, who was fighting back a laugh. "I didn't have my phone on me. I know it's kinda late..."
"Look whatever, Sam. You don't exactly have a curfew, you know? I figured you'd be at Gabe's again. I'm not uh...I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"
Gabe snorted.
"No! No, you're not." As he spoke, Gabe pressed another kiss to his chest, just above his left nipple, and then another, a little lower. Sam squirmed at the touch, trying half-heartedly to push Gabe away, but Gabe ignored him and merely continued his trek downward. "Look, I'll be better about the texts, okay. I'll be back in a bit."
"Alright, good. Cause I got something I want to talk to you about when you get here."
Gabe had reached his hips and was dragging his mouth over Sam's hipbones. His voice shook a bit when he asked, "About what?"
"Nothing bad, if that's what you're thinking. Nobody's dead."
Gabe's head dipped lower, and suddenly his lips were places Sa really idn't want to have lips when he was talking to his brother. He lurched, biting back a groan and holding the receiver away from his mouth so that Dean -- hopefully -- wouldn't be able to hear his heavy breathing.
"Fine," he clipped out. "I'll be back in a f-" He bit his lip, hard, for several moments before he was composed enough to say, "...few."
"Dude."
"What?"
"Are you...oh God, am nterrupting something, aren't I?"
"No, you're-"
"Look I'll talk to you later, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," Sam forced out, but Dean had already hung up. He tossed the phone back onto the bedside table with one shaking hand before glaring down at Gabe, who had backed off and was grinning up at him, looking far too proud of himself. "You're an ass, you know that?"
"What? I like messing with your brother, and with you. It's how I show affection." He batted his eyelashes up at Sam before smirking and trailing a finger across Sam's hip. "'Sides, you blush so adorable when my lips are around your-"
"Cockiness will get you nowhere, you know," Sam said, and Gabe grinned wide before crawling up the expanse of Sam's torso to press their mouths together.
He slithered his way downward again, and Sam propped himself up on his elbows to watch him go. "I beg to differ," Gabe said.
"Yeah, well I Ah..." Destination reached. Sam closed his eyes, let himself lean back against the pillows with a sigh. "Okay. Okay..."
It was nearly ten by the time Sam got back to the apartment, and Dean sat up from the couch the moment he closed the door behind him. Dean had the phone pressed up against his ear and seemed to be in mid-conversation.
"Yeah he just walked in the door now," he said into the receiver, glancing over at Sam. "Yeah I know, he's completely whipped."
Sam pouted. Dean winked at him.
"Okay yeah, I'll talk to him about it. Call you tomorrow. Sure. Talk to you then, Bobby. Night." He ended the call, and Sam arched his eyebrows in surprise.
"Bobby?" he asked. "Bobby Singer?"
Dean smiled, wide and genuine. "Yeah, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
"What, Bobby? We haven't seen him in what?" He shrugged. "A few years? Not since I started school, anyway."
"Yeah, which is why I figured we could get out to see him in the spring."
"Seriously?"
"Yeah!" Dean seemed as excited as a child on Christmas day, standing up and planting his hands on his hips. "I mean I said I'd talk to you about it too, you know? But we've been talking and we were thinking we could get out to Sioux Falls when you get off for Spring Break. He says he's got some big graduation gift to give you or something. And I got some vacation time saved up, so why the hell not?"
He walked over to Sam and patted him on the arm. "I mean it's been way too long since we went on an honest-to-goodness road trip, just the two of us, don't you think? You, me, the highway, some good old fashioned junk food...What do you say?"
Sam smiled. "Sounds fantastic," he said.
"Thought you'd say that." Dean moved past him, filled a glass with water and downed it, licking his lips. "Anyway, how was your date, mister 'I-didn't-have-my-phone-on-me'?"
"It wasn't a date. We were just...talking."
"Sounded like you were doing a little bit more than talking," Dean teased.
"Yeah, so what if we were?" challenged Sam, raising an eyebrow.
"Hey, I'm not judging," Dean assured him. He passed him again, giving him another strong pat on the shoulder as he went. "Might help you get the stick out of your ass anyway."
"I don't have a stick in my ass." After a moment, as Dean rounded the corner, Sam called, "And I'm not whipped by the way!"
Dean didn't reply; he just laughed loudly.
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