Chapter Text
Sam woke up with a start, his head pillowed on something soft and warm, with fingers twisting idly in his hair. The television was on with the volume low, turned to some sort of nature documentary and the clock shone 2:23 am. He blinked up at Gabriel in confusion, and as it dawned on him that his head was in Gabriel’s lap, he looked around in obvious panic to make sure they were still clothed.
“Your virtue is still intact, Sammy,” said Gabriel. “Much to the surprise of both of us, I assure you, if possibly only to my dismay.”
The fog began clearing from Sam’s mind as the previous night’s events came back to him. He remembered Gabriel straddling his lap, grinning like he’d just won a fucking prize, and leaning in. He flushed.
“You didn’t --”
“No, Sam,” sighed Gabriel. “I decided I want my most highly-desired sexual conquest to not be drunk, half-asleep and drooling. I must be growing up.”
“I don’t drool,” Sam said automatically. Gabe raised an eyebrow and pointed to a small wet spot on the bottom of his shirt.
“Not the kind of stains I was hoping to acquire, little moose,” Gabriel said, but he kept petting Sam’s hair.
Sam knew he should sit up, but the angel’s lap was fucking comfortable, and the fingers in his hair were oddly soothing. He kept thinking back to Gabriel’s face leaning in; his smile had been open and full of laughter, not his usual manipulative grin or playful smirk. He very decidedly was not thinking about the shape of Gabe’s mouth or the color of his lips.
“Also, you weren’t fucking kidding about those assholes next door,” said Gabriel. “Jesus. I don’t know whether to be disturbed or impressed.”
“Disturbed,” Sam said with a shudder. “Definitely, definitely disturbed.”
As if on cue, a moan came through the wall. Castiel’s, Sam thought, and he was not at all happy that he could identify Dean and Cas’ sex noises. He reached out and smacked his hand on the wall.
“Don’t you guys do anything else?” he yelled.
“Not plannin’ on it,” came Dean’s reply. Sam groaned and covered his face with a pillow.
“They’ll get over it,” Gabriel said with a laugh. “Do you really blame them?”
Sam sighed. “No. Of course I don’t. I’m fucking delighted for the idiots, I really am. I just wish they’d picked a better time to finally realize what every single person who has ever been in the same room as them already knew. Like a time when I’m not trapped in close proximity to the both of them a thousand fucking miles from Kansas.” He paused. “I’m glad you’re here, Gabe,” he admitted.
“I’d never leave you alone in your time of need, Sam-o,” he declared. “Wait, you didn’t just friend-zone me, did you?”
Sam snorted. “No, Gabe.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Wait, no, I meant -- shit.”
“As long as I’ve still got a shot.”
“Are you this persistent with everybody else?”
“Are you this resistant with everybody else?” Sam rolled his eyes. “Sam, you are one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever known, and I’ve known -- and I do mean known -- a lot of men. And I, conveniently, have absolutely no shame.”
Sam was silent for a few moments. “Really?”
“Yes, Sammy, I really have no shame. You of all people should know that.” Gabriel poked Sam in the ribs.
“No, asshole, I meant --”
“The other part? Well, there was this guy in Athens, back when all anybody cared about was taking over the civilized world and fucking -- ah, that was a beautiful time,” said Gabriel wistfully. “But as he was a literal Greek god, the comparison seems unfair.”
Sam blushed again, barely visible in the glow from the TV. He was glad Gabriel had shown up, to his surprise. Despite being in closer physical proximity than he'd ever been -- he was lying in the dude's lap, for Christ's sake -- the skittish defensiveness Gabe usually inspired wasn't there. Maybe it was because Gabriel himself seemed -- content, as much as Sam's brain struggled with putting the words content and Gabriel in the same sentence. His attention felt mellow and affectionate, instead of a constant attempt to get under Sam's skin.
The sounds from next door had not abated but they had faded into background noise, under the buzz of the television and -- Gabriel was humming, Sam realized, something low and absent. It sounded somehow ancient, and Sam felt a sudden, unexpected twist of tenderness for the archangel, so alone among humanity. He wrapped his arm around Gabriel’s knee as his eyes slipped shut.
Gabriel smiled down at Sam. He hadn’t been lying when he said that Sam was one of the most beautiful men he’d ever seen, and he sure as hell wasn’t lying about the sincerity of his intent and attempts to fuck him into next Tuesday. But sometimes he was struck by the man’s goodness, how after a life spent in the darkest evil, after spending a year in Hell, having his soul ripped out, being possessed by Lucifer himself, Sam still radiated kindness and selflessness.
Gabriel smoothed a hand across the mess of hair in his lap. Sam smiled sleepily and pressed into the touch.
“Hey, Gabe?” Sam mumbled.
“Yeah, Sam-o?”
“What’re you humming?” Gabe was silent for a minute; he hadn’t been aware of it. “Never mind,” Sam said, rubbing sleepy circles on Gabriel’s leg. “I was just wondering.”
“It’s very old,” Gabriel said at last, softly. “From before I left Heaven.”
Sam’s eyes opened and he blinked up into Gabriel’s golden ones. They revealed nothing but open affection, but Sam felt like Gabe had just given him a rare gift.
The question slipped out before he could help it. “Do you miss it?”
Gabriel smiled at him sadly and ran a hand down Sam’s face.
“Go to sleep, Sammy.”
The room was quiet for a few minutes, Sam’s breathing slowing down and his hand stilling.
“Gabe?” he said in a whisper. “Thanks.”
Without thinking, Gabriel leaned down and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to Sam’s mouth. Sam smiled slightly without opening his eyes.
“Anytime, little moose,” he whispered.