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"Okay, so...did I kiss you last night?" Sam whipped his head around, forgetting his hangover and hissing at the swimming ache that grew behind his eyes, to find Gabriel leaning against the entryway to the library. "'Cos I know I made out with someone last night...or, maybe a few someones? But I'm pretty sure I made out with you. Was that real life?"
It was a valid question. The night prior had been spent partying harder than most of them had since their college years; they'd been celebrating their successful closing of the rip in spacetime that lead to the alternate dimension where Sam and Dean had never been born. All of them had been feeling high on adrenaline and especially reckless, so when Sam had downed his eleventh shot of lime tequila and Gabriel had dragged him to a vacant room, unnoticed by the rest of their friends, he had not been entirely opposed to the archangel tongue-fucking his face for the next hour. They'd even gone so far as to undress above the waist and leave splotchy marks all over each other's necks and chests.
Of course, Gabe had been much farther gone than Sam, by that point, after having chugged three bottles of special angel vodka and having smoked several joints of regular human weed, so it was no wonder that he didn't remember.
What was strange was that Sam found himself feeling a bit disappointed.
"If you can't remember, is it that important?" Sam grumbled, turning away so Gabe couldn't see his childish pout. God, what the hell was up with that? He knew he'd always thought Gabe was pretty attractive - Sam sort of had a thing for shortstacks with blond hair and an independent attitude that made it clear they didn't need to be with him, but they were choosing to be. That was why he'd fallen for Brady, and then Jess. And why he'd clung to his hallucinations of Lucifer for so long. But this was just ridiculous. Gabriel was a freaking Archangel. Just because Dean overcame some really big odds, got an angel to fall for him, didn't mean Sam would be so lucky. "Maybe you shouldn't get so wasted next time."
When only silence met him, Sam sewed his brows together and spun around, thinking Gabe must've left. But he was still standing there, arms crossed, propped up against the doorframe into the hallway. There was a peculiar expression tightening his face, like he was warring between hurt and amusement, before he finally settled on stony and pushed away from the wall.
"Apparently not," he replied lightly, eyes on the ground. He turned to go, unfolding his arms as he did, but got about a step and a half into the hallway before pivoting on his heel and raising a finger in the air. "Did we, though?"
Sam wasn't really sure how to feel about having this discussion. He wished he felt nothing when, really, he felt everything. He knew he should've felt annoyed or cagey, but he knew that would be a lie, and for some reason, he didn't want to lie. But in this situation, maybe lying was better than telling the truth and getting wrangled into something he couldn't get out of if he needed to. Fuck, why was this so hard? Feelings had never, ever, even once been hard for Sam to decipher. Suddenly, with this candy-assed, bourbon-eyed, ozone-breathed angel of the lord, he was fumbling, frazzled beyond his self-soothing reach. All his words were scrambling in his brain, eating each other alive until there was just one big line of alien looking letters that he couldn't process into sounds. He realised then that he'd been staring for a long time, a little too long, and switched his gaze away, hills of his cheeks setting red.
He felt dizzy and he wasn't entirely certain whether it was the hangover or something else he wasn't ready to sort through.
"Are you sick?" Gabriel was abruptly right next to him, looking up with concerned curiosity. Sam caught himself before he could jump out of his skin. "Oh, right," Gabe mumbled, like he'd figured something out. Then, there were cool fingertips on Sam's temple and his pounding headache was gone. "I forgot about that whole hangover thing you humans get. I don't think Dad knew it was gonna be so sucky when he started adding that into the blueprint a couple centuries ago."
Sam still wouldn't meet his eyes - God, those fucking bronze plated eyes, like a damn vignette dream - but he muttered a shy, "Thank you," to the table.
"Sorry for asking. I figured you might've remembered last night better than I do, but if your hangover was that bad--"
"I do," Sam blurted, though his voice was soft and he wasn't confident in his announcement. "Remember, I mean."
"Oh," Gabe's face clouded with a hope that Sam didn't think he'd have the heart to destroy when it came time. "How much?"
"All of it," Sam admitted. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and lowered his head so his hair would fall over his eyes. "I didn't realise you were that plastered when we kissed. I wouldn't have--if I'd known, I would've stopped you, but you seemed pretty coherent."
A pause came crashing down onto Sam's shoulders, and he strained not to let the tremendous weight break him.
"We did kiss, though?" Gabe quizzed, seeming stuck on that part like it was the only one that mattered.
A stupid fantasy to have, Sam thought to himself. Of course it didn't matter. Gabriel was an immensely powerful being. Sam's name was probably just the inexpugnable mark on Gabe's sexual record that the angel would always be scowling at, wishing he'd had the presence of mind to avoid such a mistake.
At Sam's nod, Gabe grunted a, "Huh," and jutted his chin out as he pursed his lips. Then he inquired something incandescently unexpected. "Did you...like it?"
For a long moment, Sam was too stunned to respond, but when he gathered his wits, he jerkily nodded and hesitantly pulled his shirt collar down to reveal the dark purple marks marring his shoulder and collarbone.
"Ah. Well, that would explain these," Gabe casually lifted his shirt up to show off his battered-looking stomach and Sam had to stop himself from tipping over by gripping the back of a chair, now doubtless that the dizziness hadn't been from the hangover. "And why my mouth tasted like nerd when I came to."
There was an irritated look locked and loaded behind Sam's skin, ready to blow across the dwindling space between them for that comment, but Sam's trigger finger shook with the effort of trying to pull the curtain of inexplicable hypnosis out of the way.
Without having even registered it was himself that was talking, Sam's mouth wove the question into existence, "Is that something you'd want to do sober?"
A look of surprise passed over Gabe's face before it shifted into beguilement, and he confidently answered, "Yeah, it is. Why? You on the menu, Samshine?"
On the menu.
Fuck's sake, could he be any more lewd?
Ironically enough, Sam's first thought burst from his lips before he could stop it, "Yes, actually. I'm the special."
Obviously not the comeback Gabe was anticipating, because his eyes went wide and a high pitched laugh flew from his throat.
"Well, then," he mused, closing the gap between them and hanging his arms from Sam's neck. The hunter's hands instinctually planted themselves on Gabe's hips as the Archangel lowered his voice to a whisper, "I guess I know what I'm ordering."
Before Gabe could even finish the sentence, Sam was ducking down and crushing their lips together, and woah, this was way different now that Gabe wasn't crossfaded as fuck. His fingers nestled into Sam's hair, grasping the roots roughly and holding the taller man still as Gabe slid his tongue into Sam's mouth.
When the backs of Sam's thighs hit the table - and, wait, when had Gabe started backing him up? - he took the queue and let his body drop onto the wood, legs splayed open around Gabe's hips. Sam's hum of content was cut off by the Archangel firmly gripping each leg and yanking Sam further toward the edge, a mild surprise that made Sam's breath hitch, but that also could've been the fact that Gabe just rammed their erections together full force, and when had Sam gotten hard? Had Gabe done that? He swore he'd never been so hard, so fast, and maybe that was why he'd been dizzy, and dear Christ, Gabe was so solid against him, a firm line of oscillating heat and cold that seemed to correspond with the way their lips moved together, and wasn't that just the hottest fucking thing? And Sam had never considered what it might be like to make out with a fully functioning Archangel ( 'That's right, he's an Archangel. Why do I keep forgetting that?' Sam thought, reprimanding himself for underestimating Gabe's strength) but, now, he was sure as hell considering what a lot of other things might be like, too.
But before those thoughts could wander too far, Gabe pulled back with a lazy grin saturating his face, and Sam was rolling his eyes but chuckling at his auspicious companion.
"You know, I think I saw our brothers leaving about twenty minutes ago," Gabriel smirked at Sam's furrowed brow and then ballooning eyes as the hunter realised where the angel was going with that. Still, Gabe pressed his mouth right up against Sam's ear to murmur, "And I hear the beds around here are memory foam."
Sam didn't wait for him to elaborate. Just grabbed Gabe by the wrist and rushed him away down the hallway, Gabe giggling excitedly as they disappeared around the corner.
Lucky for them, Dean and Cas weren't due back for another three hours.