Chapter Text
Gabriel really doesn’t know why the kid hadn't done it sooner.
Sure, he knows it wasn't exactly 'morally correct' and, looking back, he probably could have been more eloquent about the matter in hand but, come on now, in this world of growing equality and with gender discrimination almost a thing of the past, is punching a girl really that bad?
Perhaps if she wasn't wearing a big granny cardigan and horrific boots and unfitting jeans he'd feel a tad less guilty about all this; perhaps if she looked like a man eating slut that had been created for the pure purpose of destroying Gabriel's life, he wouldn't have this weird bubble of empathy attacking his insides. But, because life, the universe and everything hates him, she encases everything adorable and probably pukes rainbows and puppies and homoerotic subtext.
It was Castiel's fault for staring up at the Moose's big brother like he was his damn salvation when the entire Novak household had a dentist appointment to keep, and this whole 'eye-sex in the school corridor' was sweet at first but now it was just downright depressing proof that Castiel picked the bang-able alleles of the gene pool and managed to snag eyes that hypnotised everyone into thinking the damn nerd was the hottest thing to hit the school since that his fun-sized big brother. Gabriel was already dying inside at the horrible imagery of the last dentist visit, in which Lucifer highjacked the creepy equipment, he and Balthazar got kicked out for swapping the pink 'rinse and spit' juice with rosé and Castiel was forced to save his X-ray until the week after because, needless to say, the Novak's were removed from site and asked never to return.
But, knowing it was easier to get it done and dusted instead of staring into the Winchester's eyes- and yes, if Gabriel had his way he'd be staring into a certain Winchester's eyes too but that's irrelevant- he stalked over and stood between them, folded arms and raised eyebrows and the annoying smirk that always got Dean riled up.
“Erm, dude,” Dean said, because he has a beautiful way with words, “we're in the middle of a conversation here.”
Gabriel was well aware that he'd just walked in on completely comfortable silence and, to signify that, he just rolled his eyes and said, “yeah, sure thing, Dean-o. Me and my bro have to go get our teeth sorted, so we'll be off now,” before grabbing Castiel's collar and turning to leave, walking straight into the six-foot-four-inches of solid perfection otherwise known as Sam Winchester.
Sam looked down at Gabriel and Gabriel's pretty sure that their height difference is God's way of making a fucking hilarious metaphor of their relationship. Fortunately, Gabriel's learnt to keep a cap on his thoughts, so that opinion didn't get shared, “holy shit, Hulk”, however, did.
“Funny,” Sam snapped like the apocalypse was looming over his bloody massive shoulders, but just as he moved to step past Gabriel and probably whine to Dean about all his 'feelings,' thin arms wrapped around his neck, and legs around his waist, and Sam's face moved from unimpressed to absolutely fucking terrified in an instant. Gabriel didn't know what the hell was going on until he saw Becky Rosen's chirpy face appear next to Gigantor's.
“Sammy,” she squealed, and Gabriel knows for a fact that the 'S' word is reserved for big brothers only, which is why he uses it as frequently as possible. “I haven't seen you all day.”
Sam grimaced in embarrassment and emotional trauma, which was usually Gabriel's trigger to start cracking jokes. “Samsquatch! I didn't know you had a girlfriend, please feel free to introduce us,” he winked at Becky and she was all blushes and giggles and, really, Gabriel was pretty fond of the girl despite her peculiar obsessions and erotic grabby hands.
“I thought you had to get going to the dentist,” he heard Dean grumbling through gritted teeth and Castiel fidgeted in his grasp until Gabriel realized how tight he'd been holding his jacket and let him go.
“And I thought you were straight,” Gabriel snaps back, a big grin plastered on his face as he turned to smirk at the hopelessly in denial- or 'deanial' as Gabe likes to call it- couple behind him, “things change, big boy.”
Dean opened his mouth but no words chose to come out, giving Becky ample opportunity to untangle her limbs from Sam and envelope Dean in some form of attack hug, leaving Gabriel stood happily in Sam's oversized shadow.
“I knew it,” she shouted as, after long enough time for Castiel to look thoroughly annoyed, she pushed away, “I knew you were just overcompensating with all those girls. I mean, for someone who's been through so much and who understands the true meaning of love, they could never just use women like sex toys. It's Castiel isn't it? It's Castiel. That's adorable, really. I mean, you and Sam's codependency is fabulously homoerotic but I think we all know your opinions on that topic.”
Everyone did know. Becky's blog was the most visited webpage by the majority of the school population for a good few months until the Winchesters threatened to get the law involved.
Wow. Gabriel loved this chick for so many reasons.
Gabe pondered the advantages of keeping a crazed fangirl with him at all times because he'd never seen every single person in the vicinity look so uncomfortable, but his opinion rapidly reversed when Becky turned her pursed lips on Sam's sweet caboose and announced, eyes flicking from the Moose to Gabriel respectively, “now we just need to get you two out of the big figurative cupboard.”
Gabriel knew he should be driving him and his bro to the dentist at this moment, but the deafening silence following her words slapped him like a bitch and, apparently, Samsquatch wasn't going to break it.
“Me? Honey, I'm as straight as the jacket they'll be pulling over your head in a few years.”
Becky's smile didn't falter. “I'm just suggesting that with all this endless teasing, oblivious, longing puppy stares and the huge variety of nicknames that you two would be.. cute.”
“Cute?” Sam spluttered, and wow, way to barge in on the conversation with such disgust at the idea of being in a relationship with Gabriel. Gabriel was a catch, thank you very much. “I- I, no! What are you-”
“Hey, cool your jets Bruce Banner, getting me on top of you wouldn't be that bad now would it?”
“Actually,” Becky said thoughtfully, “I always imagined that Gabriel would bottom.”
Well, if that wasn't the most disturbing and utterly ridiculous statement Gabriel had ever heard.
“No way, I'm older.”
“He's taller.”
“I'm more 'in your face.'”
“He's more 'in your ass.'”
“I'm Gabriel fucking Novak!”
“He's Sam fudging Winchester!”
Gabriel glared at her and folded his arms, and Sam made an awkward sort of noise in the back of his throat as he had a minor fit whilst deciding whether he should be disgusted, bewildered or angry. All that changed when Becky moved one step forward and started caressing his chest, like, hands going all over as if she had permission to grope him in public. That right was reserved for older, in your face Novaks, for no particular reason other than the fact that Gabriel really didn't like other people feeling up his eye candy.
“If you don't want him,” she drawled, lifting her chin up so her mouth lay inches away from his neck, “I'll have him.” She giggled and squeezed his pecks and Sam was backing into the lockers like the devil was in front of him asking for a hand job, eyes wide and body stiff, and yet she didn't stop. She just followed him, intent on making as little space between them as possible, and that's when Gabriel punched her in the face. Real hard.
Straight in the gap between her nose and eye, the perfect place to cause as much lasting damage because there was no chance she wasn't coming out of this with broken cartilage and a beautifully dark bruise that would take at least four layers of foundation and concealer stick to cover up.
She fell to the floor, out of shock more than anything he guessed, and Castiel bent down to her level to check she was alright and, after the initial surprise, Sam joined him- palm pressed to her cheek as he leaned forward to inspect the consequences of Gabriel's short temper- giving her exactly what she wanted, that conniving whore.
Dean slid next to Gabriel, head tilted as he watched the commotion.
“Straight as the jacket they'll be pulling over her head, huh?”
“Yep.”
“So that wasn't.. marking your territory, then?”
“Nope.”
And before Dean could say 'now who's in deanial”, Gabriel had heaved his trenchcoat of a brother from the floor and clambered to his car as quick as his little legs would take him.
---
All things considered, Gabriel's pretty sure he's done Becky Rosen a damn near massive favour, giving her one in front of a corridor of students who, he's heard, rushed forward at the sight of poor, innocent 'blonde-girl-who-talks-about-gay-sex-a-lot-but-no-one-has-cared-to-learn-her-name' fall to the floor in 'everlasting agony' at the hands of the vicious senior Novak. Suddenly, he's Mr Bad Guy with an attitude problem and he can't walk past a group of people without hushed whisperings of his 'tainted soul' and 'pent up homosexual emotions.' So, yeah, Becky obviously started writing her blog again.
Gabriel's sat at a lunch table with his little brother and Dean-o because no one else wants to be seen with him- it's a choice between Kali's table of the pretty damn evil power hungry school newspaper team; Crowley, Bela and Balthazar's table of self-obsessed, british tossers; or the newly popular table of Becky, Charlie, Sam Winchester and an influx of sympathy friends.
Sympathy friends are the worst, Gabriel's decided, fawning over her like she's a precious little flower who's had her petals pulled off, petting her for repetitive details like: 'did you have to go to hospital?', 'did it hurt?' and, of course, the highly important question of 'is Gabriel Novak even more attractive close up?' Well, he assumes that that's a prominent discussion topic on their little table of Rosen worshippers, but he doesn't know for sure because everytime he tries to get within two metres of their table, he's suddenly Loki and they're all part of the Avengers initiative, deeming it appropriate to get all high and mighty on his innocent little ass.
“You could apologise, you know,” Dean says over the scraps of meat and bread falling out of his mouth and onto the table while Castiel watches like he wants to lick the chicken up because it's touched his lips.
“The word probably isn't in his vocabulary,” Castiel snaps, glaring at Gabriel, but his words are muffled and different with thanks to the brand spanking new braces the dentist installed that Gabriel may have spent a considerable amount of time mocking, “it's lorry with an 's', if you're wondering.”
“Thorry?” Gabriel asks, leaning over the table a little bit more and grinning at Castiel, “I'm thorry Tham for punthin' your girlfwend?”
“Hey, don't listen to him, Cas,” Dean says, elbowing Gabriel in the ribs, “I like them, they- the blue- y'know- it matches your, er, eyes.”
“I'd be careful, though, Dean-o, to not to get your tongue caught it them,” Gabriel says, keeping an idle eye on Sam who, for some unknown reason, is cutting up Rosen's chicken for her. Gabriel wants to shout over to him that it's her face that's broken, her face and her last remaining shred of dignity, and not her fingers, but he senses that it would make no difference. Apparently, Sam feels partly responsible for the whole incident and now he's forced to coo over her because the guilt is just too damn much. “Not to mention Cassie dear getting his metal mouth caught in your short and curlies.”
He feels Dean stiffen beside him, not in that way, and Castiel's eyes narrow even further and Gabriel's surprised that Castiel even understood the implications of his words. Winchester's dirtied up his mind, is Gabriel's first thought, contrasted to his second thought of 'Sam would look cute with braces.' Eurgh. Perhaps he'd punched the wrong person, if he could even reach the Gigantor's face he could have bruised away the perfect complexion and distorted that damned near perfect bone structure and then he wouldn't have to be distracted every two seconds by the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs.
Speaking of which, why is he laughing? He shouldn't be laughing on that table of outcasts and sympathy friends, he should be laughing at something incredibly witty and inspired that Gabriel has just said.
Castiel rolls his eyes and tilts his head in the sarcastic 'you're an idiot' way that has become his trademark over the past year or so. “Go and talk to him, Gabriel. You bobbing your head up and down every two seconds to see what he's doing is irritating and unnecessary.”
“Speaking of bobbing heads, when are you- ow you fucker.”
Dean throws him a very pointed look, similar to the pointed fork he'd just shoved at his leg. “You're allowed to let some of them go, you know,” he sighs, and Gabriel doesn't have the heart to fight back at this moment in time so he nods and picks up his jelly babies and folder, swinging his bag on his back and saluting the two remaining students at the table.
“You two have fun now,” he shouts over as he makes his way out the cafeteria, skilfully dodging every possible table that might start to instigate a conversation with him.
Castiel pokes the front of his braces and cringes at the sharp jolt of pain that runs through his gums, before his shoulders defeatedly drop and he looks to Dean with large, worried eyes. “Do I look ridiculous with these in?” He asks, dejectedly, “be honest, Dean, please.”
Dean's caught up in the way his name rolls off of Castiel's tongue, the way Castiel is adamant on saying it in that deep, husky, slightly confused way, aware that he really doesn't need to say it in the first place; it's only the two of them there. “Sorry, wha- what was the question?”
“It doesn't matter,” he mutters, bowing his head and clasping his hands in his lap so he looks like a little lost puppy.
“No, dude, come on. I was just.. my thoughts were in a whole other place. It's about your braces, right?”
Castiel looks up and gives a small nod.
“Man, you can't even see them, not unless you start grinning like a madman at everyone you meet. Anyway, loads of people have braces, and you suit them, seriously. What are they gonna stop you from doing, huh? You don't eat like, at all, and it doesn't interfere with kissing as much as you'd think.”
“Not that I'd know the difference,” he grumbles, before his eyes snap up and he blushes at what he'd just admitted to, the metal wiring in his mouth clashing together as he tries to think of a suitable excuse.
“You've never kissed anyone?” Dean yelps out without an ounce of tact, his heat fluttering at the news like it's somehow the most important fact he's discovered this year.
“I've never had occasion, okay?”
“Occasion? But you, you're-” Dean stops himself before he accidentally lets out something embarrassing, a mixed variety of messed up thoughts whirring through his head, “So, whoever you kiss next, will be your first kiss...”
“Evidently.” Castiel snaps, getting fidgety at the frankly awkward conversation topic. He'd rather this were never discussed ever, ever again, but with a friendship group like theirs it was unlikely. Months ago Castiel had admitted to never eaten pie, until a slice was forced down his throat the next day. Imagery of Dean shoving someone like Meg Masters into his face and forcing him to kiss her rushed through the forefront of his mind, imaginary Meg quickly disappearing in favour of Dean taking her place, head tilting, lips puckering, eyes closing...
Castiel coughs himself out of the reoccurring daydream and huffs. “I think we should drop this conversation topic now, Dean. The longer I wait the more apparent my lack of experience shall become, and every opportunity makes me.. nervous. I believe it would just be simpler to ignore the entire ordeal altogether.”
Dean feels lighter and fluffier inside, like a weight he didn't know he had in his stomach had been lifted. “Some people find clumsy first kisses cute,” he shrugs, “especially if it's with someone who they.. who would.. you know what I mean.”
“No, Dean,” Castiel mutters, pushing himself up from his seat, “I don't. I need to put some things in my locker before lunch is over.” He stares at Dean until he gets the message to put his plate away too. He wasn't going to walk somewhere without Dean, that would be unnatural. “Now can we pretend this never happened?”
“Sure,” Dean smiles reassuringly, “I've forgotten already.”
---
“Kali Rae Jepsen!” Gabriel grins as she stalks towards him with her tight red dress and killer heels which are, hello, totally inappropriate for an educational institution. They used to do something for him, but now? Not so much. Gabriel throws her a sweet smile and wink, returning to the organisation of his locker to take his mind away from, well, other things. Kali watches for a while, uninterested, picking at her nails and sighing every few seconds to try and gain his attention. “Hey, I just met you-”
“I will rip your heart from your ribcage and up your throat with my nails if you sing that song to me one more time.”
“What if I sing it more than once?”
“Do you have more than one heart?”
“For you, baby, I have all the hearts in the world.”
Clearly that's the wrong thing to say, as one second he's staring up at her, and the next he's cowering down at her, thin fingers wrapped around his throat and dragging him further up and further up his own locker door.
“You think this is funny?” She screeches, and for once Gabriel can't see any humour in this situation, probably because he's feeling woozy and lightheaded and there are professionally sharpened nails dangerously close to his veins. “You pining over a Winchester, how do you think this makes me look?”
“I don't know what you're talking about,” he manages to wheeze out, when instantly there's a newspaper article so close to his face he can smell the ink in his ears.
Senior student Gabriel Novak, ex-boyfriend of editor Kali Shakti, is currently undergoing scrutiny for his vicious attack on sophomore student Becky Rosen, seen recently with a nasty coloured bruise and battle scars worn with pride as evidence of her traumatizing experience. In Rosen's blog, 'morethanbrothers.lawrencehigh.net', she states that “the pain was more than I could ever imagine, but worse was the emotional state I was left in, the only salvation being Sam Winchester's hot, calming hand rested against my cheek as he fought desperately to keep me awake. Dean looked on jealousy, obviously pining for a loving touch, as Gabriel left in a fit of angst and envy. If it weren't for the healing fingers of Samuel, who knows if I'd still be in fit enough condition to write this very entry.” Whilst the motive behind the attack remains mysterious, witnesses claim to have seen Novak making his claim on the younger Winchester in an attempt to 'woo.' All will be relieved, we're sure, but stay alert to find out if Gabriel Novak will follow in the footsteps of his older brother, Lucifer.
“'Ex-boyfriend of editor Kali Shakti,” she snarls, “'making his claim on the younger Winchester in an attempt to 'woo.' This is my reputation we're talking about here, Novak.”
“You're the editor,” Gabriel manages to choke out, “why didn't you edit it out?”
“Because Baldur thought it would be funny to sneak it in,” Kali hisses, tightening her grip on the now squirming Gabriel who's eyes were blurring and mouth mouth drying to a critical level- but, then again, he had always been a bit of a drama queen.
“Hey,” he snorts, “ironic, that's the same reason we broke up!”
His breathing is seriously under pressure until suddenly it's not, until suddenly Kali's fingers aren't around his neck but placed against her cheek, pressing delicately as if she's just as confused as Gabriel is. As her body falls to the ground, the looming shadow of Sam Winchester is revealed, his face contorted into a look of disgust, but not at Kali or Gabriel, at himself. His clenched fists now flexing at his side as he tries to make sense of the fact that he's just punched a girl around the face. A girl. In the face. Because she was hurting Gabriel Novak.
“You,” Gabriel wheezes, pointing his finger vaguely in Sam's direction and waving his other hand about as he stumbles to regain his balance, “you just hit a girl.. for me. We're totally even now.”
“No,” Sam mumbles, shaking his head as if to clear it of the image of Kali now trying to compose herself before him, “no, we're totally not, she was attacking you! I was just being a good student.”
“Oh yeah, 'cause good students totally beat the living crap out of people.”
“Neither of you!” Kali screeches, “neither of you mention this to anyone, I swear! The minute you do there will be some very explicit stories in the paper regarding you, ones that will ruin you.” With her heart obviously in the very wrong place, Kali runs down the hall with as much class as she can muster, leaving Sam and Gabriel to look at each other for the first time since the last incident involving a show of masculinity.
“So, are we taking it in turns now? Does this mean I have to find someone to punch, because my fist still hurts from the last time and the majority of my classmates aren't talking to me already-”
“Shut up.” Sam orders, fidgeting on his feet like he wants to do something rather than say something, which understandably makes Gabriel shrink back because muscles like that could reduce Gabriel to a mush of blood and sugar and he's not in the mood for anymore violence. Sam notices the movement and sighs, furrowing his brow as he bites his lip and refrains from doing the one thing that everything apart from his brain is pushing him to. “Just- before I leave- tell me, tell me why you did it, please, I just need to know.”
The urgency in Winchester's voice surprises him, it's more of a plea than an a question and, once again, it rids of Gabriel's burning desire to crack a joke, like Sam's the only person who has the ability to pull off his mask and communicate with that bubbling ball of insecurity and vulnerability beneath. “She was sexually harassing you, Sam,” he shrugs, “it was resorting to violence or watching your cherry get popped in the middle of the school halls, and that would have made more than the school newspaper.”
Sam considers this for a few moments, “so it wasn't 'Novak making his claim on the younger Winchester in an attempt to 'woo'?” he asks, a grin playing on the edge of his lips with dimples threatening to show and slap Gabriel with their cuteness.
“Don't flatter yourself, Sammy,” Gabriel replies, just as the bell rings and students come flooding in all directions to make it to their respective classrooms, pushing Sam and the 'moment' in the complete opposite direction.