Work Text:
There is nothing in this world that Sam trusts less than those all too frequent moments where Gabriel corners him, singing, “trust me” to the tune of James Brown’s Try Me. It’s never a good idea (or sang in the correct key), is almost always half-plotted, and will often involve bending his body in ways that in his youth he might have gotten away with, but now will leave aches at his joints for days. What’s worse is Gabriel’s reasoning and Sam’s inevitable acquiesce. Sam rubs a hand down his face, weary of today’s.
“I’m not getting on that thing.” Sam says, not giving Gabriel a chance.
“You’re not even going to hear me out?” Gabriel is stood next to him in the threshold of their bedroom. Sam turns so he’s leaning into the frame, finally getting a good look at the badly hidden glee on Gabriel’s face.
“When you said toy, I thought it would be smaller? Or I dunno, meant for two?” Sam questions.
“What you were you expecting, nerf guns? Come on, were adults.” Gabriel says.
“Uhuh.”
Sam promptly turns to leave, but Gabriel does the really unfair angel thing: traps him there by hooking a pinky around one of Sam’s with a deceptively strong hold that might outwardly look as if it couldn’t even snap a pencil in half, but kinda freakin’ hurts when he tugs on it.
“Let me go.” Sam demands. Gabriel does and crosses his arm, sizing Sam up. There’s just quick beat of silence that follows in which Sam narrows his eyes and Gabriel rolls his.
“Afraid?” Gabriel finally asks. Sam matches his tone.
“Of its structural integrity? Sure.”
“Whoa-oh-oh now, there's nothing wrong with my rig!” Gabriel unfolds his arm, and pokes heavily at Sam’s chest for emphasis.
“How did you even get it in here?” Sam asks through a laugh as he rubs at the sore spots. Gabriel throws his hands in the air.
“Divert much? Listen 50, quit with the 21 questions and just hop the hell on!” He says.
“Dude, no, I’m not doing it. It’s ridiculous.” Sam says.
“If it’s the age thing, just know lots of people your age are really into.” Gabriel says.
“Really?” Sam asks.
“And older.” Gabriel says.
“God, that’s a—that’s a weird visual.” Sam takes a deep breath and shakes his head.
“So you go first and I’ll show you all the right angles. See, it’s all in the way you—“
“Why is this so important to you? You don’t really—I mean—I’ve tried—” Sam cuts. He struggles a bit to regain his thoughts.
“Mean, okay, you don’t think I’m vanilla do you?” He finally gets out. Gabriel throws his head back in laughter.
“Okay, wow, that’s a wild jump. Darlin’, you’re a samoa in a box of chocolate chip. Look, just—just try it, eh?”
Gabriel smiles. Sam sighs. And if anyone were to ask Sam to characterized their dynamic, it’d be just that. Gabriel with an idea, Sam reluctant.
Nevertheless, he let’s Gabriel take off the coat he hadn’t been able to remove since he’d been accosted at the bunker door, watches him lie it down on the bed and doesn’t protests as he’s pulled further into the room by a reprise performance of that very strong pinky. At this distance, it’s doesn’t look all that threatening. He’s maybe made a far larger of a deal than it is. He could try this. He could totally try this. Thing is, though, Sam wasn’t lying. He’s scared that he might break it, if not by his weight by his size and when he sits, the creaking metal does nothing to quell his anxiety about it.
“Okay, so, now what?” Sam asks.
“Yikes, I take it back you’re not even brand name vanilla. You’re store brand, with natural flavors.”
“Shut up, you know what I mean. Just haven’t done something this weird in a while.”
“How long? And don’t tell me it was Italy.”
“Uh?”
“You’re kidding me? Since Italy—three years ago?”
“If you’re going to be an ass…” Sam tries to stand but Gabriel stops him.
“I’m joking!” Gabriel says. Gabriel places a palm over Sam’s heart, sliding it into the neck of his tee shirt, thumbing over a beauty mark at his collar bone before rounding down and off Sam’s shoulder and moving behind him. Sam closes his eyes. Gabriel takes two hands now and kneads away at Sam’s back. He squeezes down his arms and back up again, eliciting small contented sighs from Sam. Gabriel knows he’s good at this and is not afraid to use it in argument. It’s the only reason Sam’s given into Gabriel’s past whims.
“Like I said,” Gabriel says with a kiss to Sam’s shoulder, “it’s a give and take thing so, I’ll give and you just sit back and take.”
“Fine.”
“Awesome.”
Gabriel’s body is pressed against Sam’s. He whispers into the curve of Sam’s neck where he should place his arms and leaves light kisses underneath his ear. Then he’s retreating and his hands are back to coaxing Sam compliant, working at Sam’s lower back this time, knuckling circles into the muscles there. And Sam is sooooooo, ready. He just wants Gabriel to move before he loses his nerve.
Then Gabriel does and proves that Sam was not ready. He fumbles for the chains, struggling to keep his balance, working hard to give as much as Gabriel is, who’s become firmer, faster and more determined in his rhythm. And they are both winded, Sam’s choppy laughter at the building feeling at his gut, unfamiliar but welcomed because he feels high—too high—too close—excited and afraid that the strength of their movement will bring the walls down around them. His heart races and his cheeks burn. Gabriel is saying encouraging things but he can’t catch them all and then as all good things do, particularly for a Winchester, that special brand of euphoria has come and gone. Sam lets out a shaky breath, his body pliant, pulsating with aftershocks as if he’d just ran miles around the neighborhood. Sam smiles widely, and immediately regrets it when Gabriel catches him.
“So was I good or was I good?” Gabriel breathes.
“It was fine.” Sam says shortly.
“Alright, so I’m suppose to ignore your thirty-something ass and how you totally giggled like senpai finally noticed you?”
“First of all, consider scaling back anime Mondays with you and Dean, okay? And second, shove it.”
“Maybe later if you play your cards right.”
“Whatever, but this is so not involved with later.”
“Oh, come on. Not what I originally bought it for, but now that you mention it—talk about a bang for your buck. HEY OH!”
Gabriel looks very pleased with himself with that one. Sam’s determined to look unimpressed.
“Admit it, I did good.” Gabriel says.
“I dunno, I’m holding out for those nerf guns.” Sam shrugs. Gabriel huffs, rounds on Sam and pulls at his sleeve.
“Ungrateful bastard. Now get off and do me next.”
Gabriel works himself into a comfortable position. Sam falls behind him and waits for his go. With a nod of approval, Sam pushes. Gabriel laughs in delight, legs swinging haphazardly with every flight up and down. Pot, kettle. He gets out his cell and sneakily records a quick video for evidence.
“Can’t believe you installed a damn swing in our bedroom.” Sam says with another push.
Gabriel’s almost hit the ceiling twice now. He gives it a week until he finds kernels of their popcorn ceiling dusted on their bed.
“I can’t—aha—believe—oh shit—you like it.”