Work Text:
So, the night starts off fine. He’s out with his brother and a few friends, he’s got the most amazing chocolate martini in front of him, and there’s this smoking hot guy across the room that he keeps making (not so accidental) eye contact with. On top of that he’s pretty sure that his brother, who recently just went through a seriously fucked up breakup and had sworn to remain celibate for life (perish the thought) is eyeing the shorter guy next to the giant Sex God that Gabe wants to climb like a tree. Gabe is pretty confident that they’re both getting laid tonight.
Dad would be so proud.
And then some douche has to go and ruin it.
He slides up next to Gabe at the bar, leans against it and gives him what Gabe assumes is his best leer. He’s fairly attractive, tall with straight white teeth, short blonde hair, well dressed. Then he ruins it by opening his mouth.
“Did it hurt?”
Oh, oh no. He already knows where this is going.
“When I fell from heaven?” He smirks, takes a sip of his martini. (Which is delicious.)
The guy pauses for a moment, recovers and leans in closer.
“It must have been a long fall.” He tries to cover Gabe’s hand with his own but he slips out of the grasp easily. The guy’s eyes flick over Gabe’s shoulder. “But at least you had your friend for company.”
Then he winks.
Gabe’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. This guy is trying to pull Cas at the same time? Even he wouldn’t sink that low. Well…
“Yeah, not going to happen.”
“What’s your name sweetheart?”
Gabe nearly gags.
“I bet you’re flexible.” The douche continues as though he isn’t expecting a response. “The positions I can picture you in would blow your mind. We could put that mouth to good use too.”
“You should probably walk away.” He grins over the edge of his glass. “You won’t enjoy what happens next.”
“You look like you need to relax a little.” It’s like the words go right over the guy’s head. His hand comes off the bar and lands on Gabe’s thigh, just a little too high up. He stares down at the hand for a moment. “We should grab your friend; find some place a little more private.”
He trails off, slides his hand up even higher and Gabe takes a moment to mourn the loss of his chocolate martini before reaching out and throwing it directly in the guy’s face.
It has the desired effect, he muses, watching as the douche splutters, swearing as he wipes chocolate and alcohol from his eyes. He hopes it burns like a bitch.
“You fucker!” The guy shouts and all eyes in the bar are on them. Which, fine, Gabe likes an audience anyways.
“I warned you.” He murmurs, and then raises his voice. “You gave my sister herpes and then you try and pick me up too?”
There are now quite a few disgusted looks coming this guy’s way.
“And the shit you tried to get her to do?” He gets even louder. The scarlet hue taking over the guy’s face is making up for the loss of his drink. “Dude, its fine if it’s consensual but you can’t force someone to cut off your balls!”
“I’m going to kill you.” The douche actually lunges but Gabe ducks out of the way and suddenly there’s a wall standing between him and the guy.
“I think the man wants you to leave.” The Sex God from earlier actually growls, and oh god that sounds going straight to Gabe’s dick.
“This isn’t any of your business.”
“It is now.” Sex God looms over the guy and the asshole does the smartest thing he’s done all night and beats a hasty retreat. Slowly everyone starts to turn away now that the show is over.
“Thanks,” Gabe grins and relaxes back against the bar. Cas is across the room talking to Sex Gods friend, apparently extremely unconcerned about Gabe’s little show. “But I had it under control.”
“Herpes?” The giant asks and Gabe winks.
“Yeah, good luck trying to pick up anyone here again.”
The other man laughs and it’s a rich, warm sound. Something Gabe could get used to.
“So,” Sex God leans against the bar next to him, somehow folds his solid frame so that he’s closer to Gabe’s height. “I noticed you had to toss your drink. Can I buy you another?”
“I don’t even know your name.” He smirks but doesn’t stop Sex God from signalling the bar tender.
“Sam. You?”
“Gabe.” He accepts the hand proffered to him, shaking it. He doesn’t let go right away. “So Sammy—is that a mirror in your pocket?”
Sam rolls his eyes but doesn’t pull away.