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“Okay, that’s it. You have officially lost phone privileges for the night.” Gabriel punctuated this proclamation with a jab to Sam’s side as he managed to sidestep both the long limbs scrambling to take back the device in question and high-tail it into the kitchen.
“Gabe, come on,” Sam jogged after him, “I’m not doing anything.”
HIs phone lit up at that moment in Gabe’s hands, revealing a new message from Ruby. Sam knew he was caught and hunched his shoulders slightly, guiltily. He didn’t mean to make Gabe feel neglected — after all, his friend had been spending more and more time with Sam lately, knowing he’s been particularly lonely in the months following the break-up (and even moreso with Dean and Cas away on one of their road trips.)
“It’s not that hard to tell when it’s broadcast all over your face, kiddo,” Gabe made a mocking, dopey grin, eyes crossed and held sam’s phone half an inch from his face. “I thought you said you weren’t going to answer her anymore.”
“I wasn’t going to answer, I just thought I should at least read what she had to say?” Sam’s voice rose like he was asking a question.
Gabe made a face that conveyed “neither you or I believe that for a minute” with one eyebrow raise.
“I’m not saying closure isn’t a good thing, Sammy, but maybe four beers deep on a lonely winter Friday, reviving your snap streak with your on/off up-down-up-down left right B A start girlfriend isn’t the right call?”
Sam huffed, he knew on an intellectual level that Gabe was right. He didn’t want anything to do with Ruby anymore, not after the last (theoretically final) break-up six months ago.
Watching Gabe slide his phone into his pocket and then gracefully settle himself up on the corner of the counter, against the cabinets like a spoiled house cat, Sam wasn’t even sure how or why he even started talking with her again. (Okay, to be honest, a part of him knew why: he kind of missed the attention, the feeling of wanting and being wanted.)
“Give me your hand,” Gabe reached an arm out for one of his typical mock-sincere hand-holds (a bit he picked up after mocking his over-affectionate sister for doing it in earnest.) Sam gave him his hand out of reflex and felt himself being tugged to stand between Gabe’s spread legs, one hooking around his
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Sam liked Gabe’s hands, they were soft on the palms and calloused at the fingers from the years of learning guitar with his dad. They were warm and maybe a little sweaty, dwarfed by Sam’s larger hand.
“What I want,” Sam paused, recognizing an opportunity when he had one, “is my phone back.”
He launched his free hand at Gabriel’s vulnerable knee, trapping it in what Dean called a “death hold” and squeezing wildly.
“S-ahaham, no!” Gabe tried to slide off the counter, but Sam stepped closer, boxing him in, taking the hand that he was still holding (not gonna touch the reasoning behind that one right now) and pinning it up against the cabinet, leaning his hip and other tickling hand over his opposite leg. “Cohohome on!”
“You can just give my phone back and then I’ll be done,” Sam wasn’t really that interested in his phone at this point or resuming that string of meaningless snaps with Ruby or anything other than the cute way Gabe’s nose twitched between giggles.
He’d be far pressed to find anything more worth his attention than the way Gabriel squirmed underneath him, quietly determined not to give out in what Sam wanted to believe was a sweet gesture looking out for his well-being (but could just as well be his competitive streak.)
“You know I can’t do that, bud,” Gabe steeled his face for all of 2 seconds as the maddening squeezes trailed between his knee and lower thighs before cracking a smile, ducking his chin into the crook of his arm and squeezing his eyes shut (all while trying to twist his pinned limbs into some kind of defensive pose.)
“Sure about that?” Sam brought his free hand to hover at Gabe’s highest rib on his exposed side, fingers just barely brushing at his the fabric of his t-shirt. Gabe’s free hand tightened helplessly over Sam’s forearm as Sam stayed put, just slightly shifting his thumb and forefinger over the spot.
It felt intimate, soft, purposeful and affectionate; it felt utterly torturous.
“Saaaaam!” Gabe twitched, a tiny breathy giggle escaping with each move, his whole body drawn tight from the anticipation.
“Gaaaaabe,” Sam’s fingers got to work, moving quick and light into the forced hollow of Gabe’s underarm and back down the rib cage, trailing lower only to shoot back up to revisit the best spots. The laughter that had came and went at first in nervous bursts started to steadily roll out between tiny whispered curses (that Sam couldn’t even pretend weren’t the cutest thing he’d ever seen), his shoulders shaking.
Sam alternated his path up and down from thigh and side, wanting to make Gabe squirm and laugh — but not out to totally kill him.
When Sam lifted a hand for the general neighborhood of his belly button, Gabe managed (with a breathless, desperate “no!”) to force the offending hand up and away from his body. Still half-pinned, Gabe’s strength starting to make a comeback and the two wrestled for a second before Sam got both arms up on either side of his head.
Gabe leveled his gaze at Sam, their eyes meeting as he caught his breath. Their heads were closer — closer than they’ve really been, come to think of it. He’d never really seen that shade of gold in this light and the last time someone looked at Sam that way…
“At least you need both hands for tha — oh, fuck you, giant!” Sam shifted both wrists into one giant hand and brought the other back to scrabble once, twice over Gabe’s belly.
“Ready to give it up?” Sam smiled at the unrestrained howl that came from the shorter man.
“I-” Gabe rolled his eyes with a sigh, “fuck, I’m going to hell anyway” and surged forward to press his lips to Sam’s. Not entirely blind to body language, Sam was sort of wondering when things might boil over and recovered from the initial shock in record time to kiss back, chasing Gabriel’s mouth hungrily.
(And, yeah, he thought of how this might’ve gone down a few times in recent months and this was hands down putting his shower brain to shame.)
When they pulled apart, Gabe’s arms falling to rest casually at Sam’s shoulders there was a moment where Sam wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the words.
“That was, uh, –”
“Yeah, I — ” They started and stopped at the same time.
“I was holding out to not be your rebound, you know?” Gabe grumbled, arms crossing over his chest, biting his lip, his ankle running along the back of Sam’s leg.
“You were wha-”
“I was going to wait for your little giant moose heart to heal and I was going to stare at you from a distance and brood on the moors and then return when you were ready,” he tugged Sam’s face closer, leaning up to look in his eyes “I certainly wasn’t planning to make my big move while you were trying to sort out your evil ex. I was hoping someone would’ve dropped a house on her or said her name backwards three times or whatever the fu-”
Sam interrupted him with one more kiss, hands wandering down his waist.
“Ugh, let’s just not talk about her. Like, never again maybe?”
“I don’t know if that’s doable,” Gabe gestured at his pocket. “You’ll probably need your phone back eventually.”
“I think there’s plenty of night left for me to go without phone privileges,” Sam gave his hips a teasing squeeze just to enjoy the look on his face. “What? You got somewhere to be?”