Title: Bedtime Stories
Word Count: 1200
Rating: G
Spoilers: None, so long as you know who Gabriel is
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Summary: After a hunt, Sam can't sleep.
It was times such as these that Sam wondered just how much his body could take: times when he and Dean barely managed a successful hunt, staggered back to whatever seedy motel they were calling home for the moment and passed out. On a good day, they managed to shower off the grime - be it blood or mud or ectoplasm - before wordlessly collapsing, exhausted on sore.
Today was not one of those good days. Sam had been able to stagger out of his shirt and pants, curling up under the covers in his underwear whereas Dean had practically thrown himself onto the opposite mattress and promptly fallen unconscious. He was snoring as loud as a tractor engine at the moment, but Sam, as tired as he was, just couldn’t manage to drift off to sleep; maybe it was the deep ache in his muscles or the ache of the large bruise he knew was forming on his left calf, or maybe it was Dean’s incessant snoring. He couldn’t say, but all he knew was that h needed o sleep, badly, but it just wouldn’t come.
He rolled over with a huff and came face to face with a smirking archangel.
A strangled cry wrenched itself from his throat, and Gabriel just smiled wider, chuckling to himself as he rested his cheek on one open palm, propped up on his elbow. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said, and Sam glared at him half-heartedly.
“What do you expect when you just mojo yourself into my bed?” he asked in a hushed voice, well aware of Dean’s presence just a few feet away and of how pissed his brother would be if he woke up and found Gabriel between Sam’s sheets
“You never had a problem with me in your bed before,” Gabriel pointed out, and he waggled his eyebrows.
Sam sighed. “I’m tired, okay?” He let himself fall back against the pillow, his hair splaying out in all directions as he did. “We just got back from a long hunt…Everything hurts.”
“Do you want a massage?” Sam found himself laughing, despite his exhaustion and protesting muscles. “Seriously.”
“No, it’s fine. I just…I need to sleep.”
“Then sleep.”
He sighed again, deeply, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’m trying. Just can’t turn my brain off.”
“Dean could sleep under an expressway and nothing could wake him,” Sam said with a fond chuckle. “In fact, we have. More than once.”
“Well if you’re having trouble sleeping, I could help…” Gabriel ran a hand over the expanse of Sam’s chest, smirking. Sam reached down, wrapping his fingers around Gabriel’s wrist; he didn’t push him away, but trailed his thumb over the archangel’s slim hand.
“My brother’s right over there.”
Gabriel shrugged. “You said nothing would wake him up. Besides, we can be quiet.”
“Can we just…talk?”
Gabriel made a big show of letting out a long breath between his lips as he leaned forward to rest his chin against Sam’s collarbone. He wrinkled his nose. “You wanna talk about how you need a shower? You smell like death warmed over in a dirty microwave.”
“I was too tired to shower, okay?” Sam said, shoving him lightly
“Aw, relax. Most of the pagans weren’t big on showering either. I think I can deal.” He rested his head in the crook of Sam’s neck. “Wha do ou wanna talk about then?”
“I dunno,” Sam said with a shrug and a yawn. “Just…anything. Something that doesn’t have anything to do with poltergeists or wedigos or werewolves or…anything supernatural.”
“You want me to tell you a bedtime story?” Gabriel joked
“Maybe…yeah…I don’t know. Or care. You could tell me the story of the three little pigs for all I care.” His eyelids were already feeling heavy as Gabriel curled against him, pressing his body against Sam’s side and letting his fingers trail back and forth against Sam’s sternum. Gabriel hummed thoughtfully.
“Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away-“
“Is this the three little pigs or Star Wars?” Sam asked. Gabriel pressed a finger against his lips
“Who’s telling the story here? Let the angel speak, Sammich.&rdquo
Sam tried to roll his eyes, but ended up just smiling instead, nodding in agreement. Gabriel rested his head on Sam’s chest again, fingers tracing a lazy pattern on his skin that made Sam sigh contently
“Once upon a time, there was a moose-” Sam snorted, and Gabriel smacked him on the shoulder lightly to silence him again. “-who lived in a forest. And he spent all his time chasing squirrels and munching on berries and leaves.”
“What kind of berries?” Sam teased.
“Boysenberries. Fuck if I know. Now shush Anyway, this moose was stomping through the forest one day, running into trees and waking up the neighbors, when he found a little bird in one of his favorite berry bushes. And since there weren’t any squirrels around to chase, the moose decided it would be a good idea to try and smush the poor little bird.”
Sam tried to protest, but Gabriel was having none of it, this time slapping his whole hand over Sam’s mouth. “You’re the one who wanted a damn bedtime story, Sammich. Now shut it.”
This time, Sam did roll his eyes. Gabriel cleared his throat theatrically. “Anyway the bird was a clever little thing, way smarter than any other animal in the forest, including the moose. Handsome too. The most handsome bird ever, and he got all the lady birds all in a tizzy-“
“Gabe.”
“What?”
“The story?”
“I’m getting there. You can’t rush a good narrative. So where was I? Oh yeah. So the bird got away and found another nice berry bush to enjoy and the moose went back to chasing squirrels.”
Sam yawned, and when Gabriel continued, his voice was much softer, much more gentle than Sam was used to hearing from him. “So the moose and that clever little bird met a few more times, and every time the moose tried to stomp on him, and the bird got away. And they kept playing their little game for a good long time until the bird realized that he spent so much time flying away from things that scared it that it never really got the chance to enjoy the places he perched. So the next time he saw the moose, instead of running, he flew up to the big lumbering beast and perched right on its huge antlers.”
Sam laughed, sleepily, pulling Gabriel closer
“And the moose was really annoyed at first, but then he realized that the bird wasn’t bad company when he wasn’t trying to stomp him. So he let the bird stay. And all the other animals were jealous because the moose was smoking hot by moose standards and the bird was, as I said, the handsomest bird in the whole forest.”
“And how does it end?” Sam slurred, closing his eyes because he was unable to keep them open any longer.
“Well, they lived happily ever after, of course. That’s how these things normally end, right?” Gabriel nudged him. “Even if the moose was smelly.”
Sam barely heard him, but smiled as he drifted off to sleep at last.