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Sam had completely, totally, and utterly fucked up.
At some point after too much liquor and an embarrassing stumble into the nearby Biggerson’s, Sam had found himself seated on a Montana park bench small enough to practically force Gabriel onto his lap. But what did they care about the size? They were laughter and alcohol and Gabriel had few boundaries anyways, with his fingers grazing through hair and down backs, ending up on the laps of strangers at least twice a week. The situation was far more unfamiliar to Sam, but he couldn’t find it in him to mind if Gabriel’s legs draped over his own, their sides pressed close together, faces inches apart. Even if it had sparked a feeling of discomfort, he wouldn’t have noticed- not with those eyes shining so brightly and so within reach. The colors danced like antique sunshine, every streak illuminated under the moonlight. They were just as intoxicating as the bottles of whiskey they reminded him of.
It was then that he let his guard down, letting himself fall too far into addictive whiskey eyes. He didn’t know how or why, but he was falling forward in a fatal plummet until suddenly the world reeled to a stop. Those pretty whiskey eyes were gone, clumsily replaced with whiskey lips, whiskey tongue, whiskey, whiskey.
He jolted back to reality -where whiskey is fun but over-indulgence leads to danger and mistakes- and away from Gabriel -where whiskey danced and teased.
Before he could say anything, Gabriel’s fingers were tangled in his hair, pulling him back down. But it was too late now, the illusion was shattered. He yanked himself away and pushed Gabriel off, rising to his feet.
“I’m- I’m sorry” The stuttered apology was barely loud enough to be heard over his anxious heartbeat.
“For what?”
“I need to go.”
"Wait!" Gabriel was standing now, rushing forward and grabbing his arm. A wave of nausea washed over him, panic mixing with booze like Pepsi and Mentos.
"I'm sorry."
"What's wrong?"
"Look I- I just can't, okay? I mean I want- even if-" Sam closed his eyes, stepping further away, "I can't do it. Please, I can't."
"What are you talking about?"
"I need to go."
"Sam-"
And then he was stumbling backwards, arching over to vomit in the bushes.
---
One week, two days, and eleven hours. That’s how long it had been since he had royally screwed himself over. Coincidentally, that was also how long it had been since Sam had been in a room alone with Gabriel, or looked into those shimmering eyes for longer than just a fleeting glance.
Now that countdown skid to a stop as the door clicked shut, leaving them in a silence broken only by the Impala’s engine fading into the distance and the ticking clock on the motel wall.
17 seconds - is that all? - of held breath and clenched teeth.
Gabriel crossed his arms.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Gabriel scoffed, “Really, Sam? Playing dumb?”
“I’m not-”
“Don’t you dare try to act like you don’t know what you’re doing! You won’t even look at me. Every time it seems like we might get a second alone you make up some bullshit excuse to leave- or to get someone else to stay. Do you have any idea how- how upsetting that is? That the one person I’ve been able to…” he faltered for a moment, “Why won’t you just talk to me?”
Sam’s gaze shifted to the ground, trying to quell the arising guilt.
“Please, just tell me what’s going on.” Gabriel was pleading now, his voice soft and desperate and hurt.
“I just- I’m sorry, Gabriel. I’m sorry I got drunk and screwed things up, I’m sorry I ran, I’m sorry I couldn’t stand to look in your eyes and talk to you about it, I’m sorry.”
He let his gaze flit back to Gabriel’s face, sympathy blending in with the range of emotions already displayed. Gabriel stepped closer, grabbing at his wrist.
“You don’t have to be sorry, you’re talking to me now. Just tell me what’s bothering you.”
Sam sighed and dragged himself away. The bed creaked as he eased down onto the end of it, running his fingers through his hair. Gabriel followed, perching next to him. A few inches of space remained between them, far from touching -not like they were that night- yet Sam couldn’t clear the feeling of their bodies pressed close together.
He cleared his throat, trying to shake the thought from his mind, "what do you want me to explain?"
"Well…" Gabriel let out a nervous laugh, "I mean I can understand a drunk makeout session but you seemed kind of um, upset. And now you're ignoring me, I just want to know what's going on."
"I just didn't want to ruin our relationship. As friends, I mean, not- um," he pulled at the collar of his shirt, trying to decide what else to say, "one night stands, you know? Friends sleep together and then they… I mean that's why you never really hear a successful friends with benefits story because you either- I mean, not that I'd want to. Just because- not because you're- I um-"
"Sam," he turned towards Gabriel, feeling his face heat up. He cursed the amusement in those whiskey eyes.
"Relax. I get it, you're happy as friends. That's fine."
"Right."
Gabriel arched his brow, "Is there something else?"
"Of course not."
"Come on, I know you. What is it?"
He sighed and looked away. Of course he wouldn’t be able to lie to Gabriel.
“Please,” Gabriel prodded him gently in the side, “tell me because you love me?"
"Don't," Sam squeezed his eyes shut, "don't say that."
"Say what?"
Sam bit his lip.
"Sam?"
He clasped his fingers together, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Look, I don't want to lie to you."
"Lie to me? About what?"
Sam hesitated, glancing at Gabriel through the corner of his eye.
"I guess I'm doing a bad job already, because I do want to lie. But I shouldn't, it isn't fair."
"Sam, what the hell is going on?" Gabriel's hand grazed his back gently.
"I'm not…" Sam sighed, "Truth is, I'm sort of- I- shit. "
"Just tell me."
"What I'm trying to say is that what happened that night, me kissing you, it was a drunken mistake. But only because- because that's not how I wanted it to happen. And I know you don't think of me like that, so me taking advantage of you when we were wasted… Gabriel, I'm so sorry. So it's not because I'm happy as friends, because as much as I love having you as a friend, I've wished for so much more. I want so much more. I think you should know that."
There was silence for a moment.
"If you're uncomfortable having me around, I understand. That's why I told you, so you could make that choice."
"I'm not uncomfortable with you."
Sam frowned, "it's okay if you are, you don't have to worry about my feelings."
"Hey," Gabriel touched his finger to Sam's chin, guiding it towards him. He leaned forward, pausing momentarily before closing the space between them, gently pressing his lips to Sam's.
Sam tensed before easing into the kiss, deepening it and letting their lips slot perfectly together.
All too soon Gabriel pulled away.
"Believe me now?"
Sam laughed sheepishly, "yeah, I think I do."
Gabriel smiled, threading his fingers into Sam's hand.
Sam dropped his gaze for a moment, "I'm uh, sorry for avoiding you."
"S'okay" Gabriel muttered.
"I wish I had the balls to just ask you out before I caused all this mess"
Gabriel's lips tipped upwards, "well, it's not too late to treat me to dinner."
Sam smiled, "It's a date."
Gabriel laughed softly, drawing Sam's gaze back to his eyes, sunshine glistening through a whiskey bottle. He leaned forward to let himself get lost in those lips, finally confident. Gabriel moved closer, pressing their bodies together as Sam slipped his free hand around Gabriel's neck, angling him perfectly.
They edged closer together, lips only inches away.
The motel door clicked open and Sam jumped, spinning around to see Dean standing in the doorway.
"I uh, forgot my wallet. Didn't mean to interrupt."
Dean whisked across the room, shoving his wallet in his pocket and heading back out.
"'Bout time you got laid, Sammy," he quipped before pulling the door shut behind him.
"Your brother has shit timing."
Sam laughed, repositioning himself to pick up where they left off, hoping Dean would stay out for awhile longer. He wanted this to last as long as possible, wanted to indulge in Gabriel's whiskey flavored lips.
---
Dean had taken consideration to stay out longer than initially planned. He and Castiel had spent the afternoon exploring the town, waiting for hours after dark to return to the motel.
When they slipped into the room they were careful to do so slowly, not wanting any accidental views of their brothers' indecency. Instead they found them curled on the bed - fully clothed - Gabriel tucked into Sam's side.
A mild scent of whiskey hung in the air, a couple shot glasses resting on the bedside table.