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“I’m thinking you go to the morgue, I’ll go to the house, and we’ll meet up later?” Dean asked as he shrugged into his suit jacket.
Sam didn’t respond. He’d gotten as far as taking off his boots once they’d slung their bags down on the motel room beds, and had spent the last ten minutes rifling through his bag. He wasn’t really looking for anything, or looking at anything, but instead was just mindlessly digging through his clothes. Dean stopped, stared at him for a moment, then sighed. Sam had been like this for the last day and a half, and it had gotten old yesterday.
“Did you hear me?” Dean asked, and took a step closer, “Sam?”
Again, Sam didn’t respond.
“Sam!”
He jumped. He jumped like he’d been shocked, and Sam whirled around to glare at Dean. Sam was trying hard to keep his expression blank, but he couldn’t quite manage to stow his annoyance at being jerked back to reality that hard. He frowned, ran a hand through his hair, and took a breath to at least try to pull himself back to earth.
“What?” he snapped, “I heard you. Jesus.”
“What’d I say?” Dean asked, and folded his arms.
“Morgue, house, meet up later,” Sam repeated, “I got it.”
“Are you gonna tell me what the fuck is up with you?”
“Nothing’s up with me.”
“You’ve been spaced out since Omaha, dude,” Dean pointed out, “like Ground Control to Major Tom spaced out.”
Sam rolled his eyes. It had been a long trip. They’d done five hours in the car that morning alone, and all Sam wanted was ten minutes to get his shit together. This wasn’t helping. He’d been distracted, sure, but he’d also hoped that Dean hadn’t noticed. They’d both taken turns over the years of having shit on their minds, and Sam had genuinely hoped that Dean would just roll with it. Clearly not. Not since Lucifer. Not since Sam had almost been pulled into the Cage.
“I’m fine,” Sam said, “I swear.”
He wasn’t lying. Not really. Oh, there was certainly something on his mind. It just wasn’t something Big and Important that needed to be Talked About. Not with Dean, anyway. Jesus fucking Christ, he did not want to talk about it with Dean. Then again, Sam knew the minute he even began to say anything about what was currently going on with him Dean would clap his hands over his ears and run for the door. Maybe he should. At least it would get him to stop.
Dean was quiet for a moment. Sam could feel the weight of his brother’s gaze on him, studying him, and Sam sighed. He painted a smile on his face and settled his hands on his hips. A quiet sound left his lips, but he kept the smile on and clearly stood in a very pointed Ta-Da! pose.
“I’m fine,” Sam repeated, “all good. Can we drop this now?”
He watched as Dean just shook his head and waved him off. Dean turned and made for the door, pausing at the table to grab his keys, wallet, and phone. There was a sudden weight in the room. It was a weight Sam knew was coming, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with it. He knew Dean was concerned. Dean was always concerned. He just didn’t know how to tell him that he didn’t need to be. Not about this.
“You’re sure you’re okay?” Dean asked, though he didn’t turn to look at Sam.
“I’m okay.” Sam said.
Dean nodded, “I’ll call you if I find out anything,” he said, “meet up at the pizza place we saw on Main Street?”
“Yeah,” Sam answered, and turned back to his bag to start pulling out the rest of the clothes he’d somehow managed to shove deeper into it.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he’d been counting the seconds since they’d opened the motel room door. They’d already talked about splitting up to get some intel on the case, and when Dean had suggested that he go talk to the family Sam had immediately wanted nothing more than to be left alone for a minute. It wasn’t that he wanted Dean gone, not really, but this wasn’t something he could deal with while his brother was around. Come to think of it, he wasn’t exactly sure that he even wanted Dean in the same zip code as him while he dealt with it, but he would take what he could get. Just ten minutes. That’s all he needed.
“Alright,” Dean said finally and pulled open the door, “don’t trip on any asteroids, Space Cadet.”
“Fuck off.”
He heard Dean laugh, and as he pulled the door shut Sam caught sight of Dean’s left hand raised with his middle finger up. That was something. That proved at least that Dean believed him when he said he was fine. Maybe it meant he wouldn’t bring it up again. God, Sam hoped so.
When the door was firmly shut and Sam heard the sound of the Impala’s engine rev, he finally let himself relax. He rested a knee on the bed and leaned on it. Sam closed his eyes, rubbed his hands over his face, and pulled them back through his hair. This was the ten minutes he needed. It was finally quiet, and he was alone. He took a deep breath and held it in his chest. Slowly the posture he’d been trying to maintain for the last day and a half fell away, and the ache in him spread.
Dean had been completely right. Sam had been fucking distracted since they’d left Omaha a day and a half ago. The difference was that this kind of distraction wasn’t some worry about a looming Apocalypse or whatever the fuck was tearing people apart two states over. This kind of distraction started when he’d gone to the library to grab a few death records for the case they were currently working on, and he’d been pulled into a storage closet by the back of his shirt. Hard. Hard enough that he’d stumbled and when he finally turned around to see Gabriel smirking at him, Sam had almost tripped over his own feet.
He sank down onto the bed, on his stomach, and groaned as the deep and steady ache in his ass and hips throbbed. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, and for the moment he was just glad to not have to be sitting on the hard bench seat of the car with an unmaintained highway beneath their wheels as they crossed state lines. Every jolt and bump was a reminder of Gabriel, and while it had absolutely hurt it had him popping boners like a fucking teenager. Thank God he’d had his bag and laptop sitting on his thighs, or Dean would have been asking him a few totally different questions than he had been.
Even the press of his jeans felt like too fucking much. He’d spent the last however long shifting and squirming in his seat, ass aching, and now just the feeling of his boxers and pants was enough to make him whine. Sam slid a hand down, managed to get it under himself, and he pressed his face in against the musty smelling blanket as he canted his hips backward and undid his belt and fly. It took a few rough shoves and some kicking of his legs, but finally he managed to fling the offending fabric to the floor. He could have sobbed for how good it felt to have no weight and just the ambient air on his bare skin.
He traced his fingers over where it hurt the most once he was fully horizontal again. The skin wasn’t broken, but Sam could feel the heat coming off it and the slight raise from what had to be a deep purple bruise. He could map the shape, and when he did he pressed his whole hand against it to cover it. The shapes matched. There was a fucking bruise in the shape of Gabriel’s hand on his ass. Sam let out a soft sound, his hips grinding down into the mattress, and immediately the memory of two days ago filled his head.
Gabriel had him pinned against the wall. His jeans were tangled around his knees, and Gabriel fucked him so hard that he had to brace an arm over his head to keep from giving himself a concussion. One of Gabriel’s hands was curled around his hip, pushing and pulling him back and forth on the angel’s cock, and the other grabbed so hard at his ass to keep him open that Sam could swear he wasn’t going to be able to sit right for a week. Gabriel only used a mere fraction of the strength Sam knew he had, if only because he knew Gabriel would never actually harm him, and at the time it was so fucking hot that he didn’t care if he was limping around for days.
Sam pressed his hand hard against that bruise, and a muffled moan erupted from him. He was sore inside and out from how hard Gabriel had taken him, but it was worth it. Sam loved being able to do this. He loved being able to touch where Gabriel had left his mark on him. And Gabriel did love to mark him. Gabriel loved nothing more than leaving Sam a mess of hickeys and bites and bruises. Reminders of stolen moments together. Sam had never asked for it, not out loud, but he knew Gabriel could see how much he loved it.
He ground his hips into the mattress again. Sam was hard. So fucking hard. He meant to only take a few minutes to relax, but there was no denying that he needed to fully deal with this before he tried to get his head right to work a case. There was no way that he was going to be able to go down to a fucking morgue with the mental image of himself limping out of that library, covered in bruises, with Gabriel’s come leaking out of him. Just thinking about it now made his cock jump, and Sam let out a whimper as he pulled his hand away and rolled onto his back.
Even with his eyes shut he knew that the handprint on his ass wasn’t the only thing Gabriel had left him with the last time. Sam bent his legs, dug his heels into the bed, and when he opened his eyes he gazed down the long line of his torso. Bruises in the shape of fingers were wrapped around his hips. Red welts and hickey covered his abdomen where his hard cock rested against his belly. They trailed lower, changing from red to yellow-green to deep purple, and Sam’s inner thighs were littered with bruises and bite marks from Gabriel’s hungry mouth. He whimpered, honest to God whimpered, at the sight and wrapped one hand around his cock to stroke himself slowly.
Before he’d fucked him, Gabriel had dug his fingers into Sam’s waist to keep him still. He fell to his knees and kissed and sucked and licked fucking everywhere but where Sam wanted him to the most, but every mark Gabriel left made something warm bloom in his chest. He’d squirmed and struggled, but Gabriel’s grip was like iron. He kept Sam still and steady as he ravished and practically worshiped him. The memory of it dumped heat into his blood, and every shift of his sore ass against the bed lit his nerves on fire. Sam was lost in it. The sight and the memory alone were enough to have him fucking his own fist, but he also knew it could be better .
His other hand moved from where it had been fisted in the comforter, and Sam spread his legs a little wider as he pressed his fingers hard against a particularly nasty looking welt. It sent a spark of pain through him, but it somehow only added to the pleasure of touching himself like he was, and Sam groaned low and deep into the empty room as he imagined Gabriel’s mouth on him again. He rubbed his thumb in a circle over the head of his cock. Gabriel would do the same thing with his tongue, and Sam loved it every time. It made his muscles clench, yet another bit of pain to fan the flames of his arousal higher, and he could feel his legs shaking. It wouldn’t take him long to come from this. He was so close already, and he’d only just started.
“Fuck,” he whispered. It sounded loud in the relative silence of the room. The only other sounds were his labored breathing and the steady drag of his hand on his cock. It was fucking filthy. God help him if Dean were to come back and see this. Not that he was thinking about that.
Sam pressed harder against the mark on his thigh, and bucked his hips. In his mind he wasn’t even in that shitty motel room. He was far away with Gabriel’s hands and mouth on him, and Sam stroked himself hard and fast in time with the imagined movements of the angel’s touch. He could feel his orgasm building already, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep himself from moaning any louder than he already was.
“Gabriel,” Sam sighed, and almost before the name had crossed his lips he heard the telltale flap and flutter of wings.
The feeling in the room changed. Sam didn’t need to open his eyes to know why. He could feel it. He could feel eyes on him, and while it made him want to blush and flinch away at first…he couldn’t. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, because he knew it was Gabriel and he wanted Gabriel to see him like this. He wanted Gabriel to see what he did to him.
“Oh, Sam ,” Gabriel breathed, and a shiver went up Sam’s spine. He couldn’t quite put a finger on the tone, but Sam could hear the reverence in Gabriel’s voice. It made that warmth in his chest bloom further, and Sam cracked open an eye to look at Gabriel looking at him.
Gabriel stood at the end of the bed. It looked like he might have been mid-gesture: probably something sarcastic and mildly offensive, but stopped immediately. He was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his hair was just the right amount of mussed so that one perfect blond-brown strand fell across his forehead. Amber eyes were locked on Sam, already dark with lust and heavy lidded, and just the tip of Gabriel’s tongue darted out to lick his lips at the sight before him. Sam could feel that Gabriel was trying to control himself. It was coming off of him in waves, and it only made Sam press his fingers harder into the bruises and stroke himself again.
There was a weight on the bed. In a blink Gabriel had gone from where he’d been standing to leaning over Sam with the same expression Sam imagined a wolf might wear once it cornered its prey. It was hungry. Barely contained. Primal in a way that Sam couldn’t understand because Gabriel wasn’t human. He looked like he would have eaten Sam alive if he could. And maybe he actually could .
A hand trailed along Sam’s calf and came to rest on his knee. Gabriel’s hands were always cool, and it felt good against how hot Sam’s skin was. He groaned, stroked himself again, and looked fully up into Gabriel’s eyes. If he was going to come, and he knew he was going to, then he wanted to watch Gabriel while he did. He wanted to watch Gabriel watch him, which was something very new that he would have to file away for later, and he wanted Gabriel to hear him moan his name. Only Gabriel’s name. For so long now it had only been Gabriel’s name.
“Little sore, are we?” Gabriel asked, and just the sound of his voice cut all the way down to Sam’s fucking soul .
He nodded and pressed his fingers against another bruise. A fresh wave of that pleasure-pain rolled over him, and Sam squirmed under the heavy scrutiny of Gabriel’s eyes. It was like he could feel Gabriel’s heart rate increase with every move he made. Except it wasn’t his heart, as far as Sam knew, but instead it was the ancient and eternal power that was the Archangel Gabriel trying so desperately to stay in control. Sam knew what it took for Gabriel to keep himself in check, and just knowing that Gabriel fought so hard to keep himself from losing it around him was enough to almost make him come right then and there.
“Feels good,” Sam whispered, “fuck, it feels so good.”
“Yeah?” Gabriel asked, and the hand on his knee started moving again. It trailed up his thigh, opposite to the one Sam was already touching, and slowed at the line of bruises he’d left not forty-eight hours ago.
Sam’s breath hitched, and he watched Gabriel smile as he dug his fingertips in. Pain lit Sam up from the inside, and he let out a shout as he gripped hard at his cock. His orgasm tried to rip through him, but he squeezed as tightly as he dared to keep it back. He didn’t want to lose it now. If Gabriel was going to touch him, going to make it feel even better, Sam didn’t want to come the second he laid a hand on him. No, he wanted to enjoy it for as long as he could.
“Fuck,” Gabriel whispered, and moved so he was kneeling between Sam’s bent and spread legs.
He heard a snap, and suddenly Gabriel’s clothes were gone. That hand never left Sam’s thigh, and Gabriel gripped hard as he leaned up and over Sam’s supine body. Sam could feel the lightest brush of Gabriel’s lips over him as he moved, and it made him shiver. That tenderness teamed with the harsh press of Gabriel’s fingers was the perfect knife’s edge of pleasure, and once Gabriel’s face filled Sam’s vision he leaned up to try to kiss him. Gabriel smirked and pulled back just enough, his eyebrows raised expectantly, and Sam grumbled as he flopped back down.
“You like my presents this much, huh?” Gabriel asked.
Sam could feel a blush rise up into his cheeks. He’d never been much of one for dirty talk, but there was something about the equally teasing and completely earnest way Gabriel spoke when they were like this. The things he said would probably turn a nun’s hair white, but the way he said them was almost loving. It wasn’t like he meant to embarrass Sam, but the way he chose to phrase things was just so fucking filthy .
He nodded and closed his eyes again. His face was burning hot: both from the blush at Gabriel’s words and the fire in his blood.
“Well, do you?” Gabriel asked again.
Sam swallowed hard and nodded again, “Yes,” he said softly, “I...love them.”
A low sound came from Gabriel then, and the fingers on Sam’s thigh dug in harder. “And what were you praying for, exactly?” he asked. Gabriel leaned down and caught Sam’s lower lip in his teeth for a moment before he let it go. “While you were enjoying them?”
He whined. The hand on his cock had slowed, and Sam could feel it throbbing in time with his heart. His stomach was a mess of precome already, and Gabriel’s words made another thick drop fall over his fingers. Between the press of his own fingers on one thigh and Gabriel’s on the other it felt like he might fucking explode, and to be asked a question like that while he was actively trying not to come, die, or both was making him lose what was left of his mind. But he knew Gabriel wanted an answer. Sam didn’t really have one, but there was only one word on the tip of his tongue.
“More.”
Sam heard Gabriel take a breath. It was just a quiet inhale, but Sam could hear the slight shake to it. Gabriel was already trying so hard to keep himself from letting go, and just that quick breath was yet another sign that Sam clearly made it difficult for him. He watched as Gabriel steeled himself for a moment before he leaned down and captured Sam’s mouth in the most all consuming kiss of his life.
Gabriel thrust his tongue past Sam’s lips, hungry and dominant, and Sam let out a strangled kind of noise as he sucked on Gabriel’s tongue and let himself be taken by it. The kiss was hard, hard enough that his lips hurt from being pressed against his teeth, but it felt so good to have Gabriel kiss and touch him at the same time. It didn’t matter if that kiss drew blood, even, all that mattered was that Gabriel’s mouth was on his and he could taste Angel on his tongue while the delicious pain of Gabriel’s fingers dug into his skin.
After a moment Gabriel pulled his mouth away and he looked down at Sam. Gabriel’s eyes were dark and sharp, and he shifted just a bit as he stared down at him. He licked his lips, tongue dragging slowly, like he was savoring the taste of Sam on them. It made Sam shiver again. He didn’t know why, but there was something about Gabriel being hungry for him that made his insides completely melt and his higher brain function go up in flames.
“You want more?” Gabriel asked, and both of his hands moved to the back of Sam’s thighs where his legs were still bent on either side of him.
Sam nodded, slowly at first and then a bit more wildly, as Gabriel’s fingers dug into his legs. He panted softly, suddenly out of breath, and his heart was racing in anticipation. “Please,” Sam begged softly, “ please , Gabriel.”
Gabriel let out a growl as he shoved Sam’s legs up. His knees were suddenly at his chest, and Sam let out a cry as the movement dragged his ass across the bed. He’d been so focused on the bruises on his thighs that he’d almost forgotten that other, beautiful pain in him. Now he was fully exposed. From where he knelt, Gabriel could probably see a bit of that handprint along with the rainbow of bruises on his thighs. It made the heat in Sam’s face grow, and he turned his head to bury his cheek against the comforter. To be so on display, even for Gabriel, was new to him.
“If I had known you like this so much I would have done it ages ago,” Gabriel said as he let one hand smooth down the back of Sam’s thigh to press and rub against his hole. He smiled for the gasp it earned him, and Gabriel traced firm circles around where Sam was clenching around nothing. “I mean, look at you…” he went on, but trailed off as he pressed one fingertip in.
A choked off moan burst from Sam’s throat, and he let the hand at his thigh fall to the bed so he could tangle his fist in the blanket. He was still sore. The intrusion didn’t hurt, not really, but it made the still sensitive nerves crackle to life like fireworks. It also made his cock jump and another dribble of precome fell across his stomach to join the mess that was already there. He was so hard that it hurt . Everything hurt, but it hurt in a way that only made him want more of it. Always more. Everything Gabriel did left him wanting more.
“No one gets to have you like this,” Gabriel murmured, “no one but me.”
The words washed over him, and Sam could feel himself start to shake a little. Every time they were together, no matter if it was a quickie in a storage closet or a long night in a comfortable bed, Gabriel always made sure to say something like that. It was like being wrapped up in strong arms and golden wings, and it made Sam feel like there was nothing that could hurt him. Gabriel had wrapped himself so tightly around Sam, had made the words like armor against anyone or anything that dared to touch him, that they were like a second skin. Between that and the blooming warmth in his chest, there was no space left. It was just Gabriel.
Gabriel: who had pulled Lucifer out of him with a rage so pure and ancient, so raw and powerful.
Gabriel: who had wrapped Sam in his arms in the aftermath.
Gabriel: who had helped ease the nightmares and darkness the devil had left in him.
There was no denying that Sam was his. Sam would never argue the fact, and he knew that if anyone ever tried to challenge it Gabriel would tear them limb from limb. Sam was his. Sam was his, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The marks, the bruises and the bites, really were a gift. They were Gabriel’s gift to Sam to show that he was needed and cared for and loved .
He felt Gabriel’s fingers, slick now, press into him. He didn’t treat him roughly, not like this, but he did work Sam’s still sensitive and sore hole open in firm, slow thrusts. Sam moaned loudly, his back arching off the bed, and the hand on his cock started to move again as he was filled up by those deft and strong fingers. This was what he needed. He needed to feel Gabriel inside him. He needed to be so fucking full that there would never be room for Lucifer again.
“Sam,” Gabriel said, and moved back up to capture his lips again. His fingers didn’t stop, and now Sam’s mouth was as full as his ass. He was taken in every way, and Sam let go of the blanket so he could rest his hand on Gabriel’s back.
“More,” he whimpered against Gabriel’s lips.
Gabriel kissed him again, and his fingers started to fuck Sam in earnest now. He twisted his wrist, thrust them in a little harder, and pressed hard at Sam’s prostate. Light and color danced behind Sam’s eyes as he cried out into Gabriel’s mouth. Gabriel didn’t let up, and soon Sam was squirming as Gabriel’s fingers tapped and rubbed at the sensitive bundle of nerves in him. His orgasm started to crest again, and he had to let go of his cock before he completely lost himself.
It was another long moment before Gabriel pulled his hand away. Sam was sweating, writhing, and teetering on the knife’s edge. One well placed touch would push him over the edge, he knew it, and the way his body still throbbed and ached was the perfect complement to the rush of pleasure Gabriel gave him. His hole was twitching, as was his cock, and he looked up into Gabriel’s eyes with a pleading expression. He needed to be fucked. Truly fucked. Right now. He needed it right now or he might actually die.
As if he’d read his mind, which he might have, Gabriel shifted and Sam could feel the blunt head of Gabriel’s cock at his hole. Gabriel was hard and hot, wet at the tip, and Sam squirmed as he tried to buck his hips downward. His mind was blank save for the words more, more, more, more and the desperate need to feel Gabriel inside him. Gabriel lined himself up and pushed in with one deep thrust, and Sam dug his fingers into Gabriel’s back. He wouldn’t be the only one with lasting marks after this. He could feel Gabriel’s skin breaking under his short fingernails, and he knew that when he pulled his hand away there would be five perfect, blood red half moons where his fingers were. That only seemed to spur Gabriel on, though, and he hilted himself so deep into Sam’s body that Sam could swear he felt it in his chest.
“Yes,” he groaned, “just like that. Fuck, it feels so good.”
“Sam,” Gabriel sighed, and canted his hips backward just enough so he could thrust himself in hard again.
Gabriel fucked him hard. So hard that Sam’s ass was alight with pain and his shoulders were shoved up the bed a few inches. He wasn’t going to last like this. It was too much and too good, and Sam never wanted it to stop. He wanted to stay right there, pinned to the bed and fully at Gabriel’s mercy, so that nothing ever took Gabriel away from him again. If they stayed like that there was no threat of danger. There was no threat of death. It was just them and the unending pleasure between them.
“My Sam,” Gabriel said as bent his head and nuzzled his face against Sam’s neck, “mine. Only mine.”
“Yours,” Sam whimpered, “just yours.”
He could feel Gabriel’s lips at his pulse. He could feel the threat of teeth behind them, and it made Sam whimper again. Gabriel had never marked him where anyone else could see. Every bruise or hickey was always just for Sam, and Sam alone. To leave one anywhere else would mean that he would have to share it. It would be proof that he was Gabriel’s, and the world would know that an Archangel had claimed him as his own. The thought made a sob bubble up from Sam’s chest, and he dragged his fingers along Gabriel’s spine as another sharp thrust hit his prostate.
“Can I?” Gabriel asked against his throat.
Sam swallowed. Hard.
He nodded, “Do it,” and tipped his chin up, “fucking do it, Gabriel. Please.”
Then there was a hand in his hair. It pulled sharply, tugged Sam’s head to the side to give Gabriel as much real estate as he wanted, and Sam made a soft sound. His heart was pounding. He needed this. He wanted this. He wanted to wear Gabriel’s marks like a badge of pride. He wanted to see it when he looked in the mirror. He wanted to know that when someone looked at him there was no way that he could belong to anyone else.
Gabriel wrapped his lips around Sam’s pulse, and teeth and tongue bit and swirled against his skin. It fucking hurt . It burned like fire in his blood. He was still being fucked, still being filled, and that searing bite was enough to pick Sam up and hurl him over the edge. He came, cock pulsing in time with the way Gabriel sucked at his neck, and every jolt of pleasure was like a whole other orgasm. He knew he yelled, but the thundering of his own heartbeat in his ears muffled the sound, and his whole body spasmed as Gabriel made Sam his own for the world to see. His vision went white. It was like nothing Sam had ever felt before in his life. But that was Gabriel. Only Gabriel could make him feel like this. Gabriel would be the only one to ever make him feel like this.
He was still being fucked when he came back down. Gabriel’s mouth was still at his neck, and his cock was still buried inside of him. It should have been too much. After an orgasm like that he should have been too over sensitive to be touched, but it still felt perfect. Sam just groaned, boneless and loose, and he tangled his fingers in Gabriel’s hair. He could hear Gabriel panting in his ear, moaning his name, and promising that it would always be this way. That Sam would always be his and he would always be Sam’s.
“So good,” Gabriel sighed, “Sam, you feel so fucking good. Perfect. Made for me. Just me. Only me.”
Gabriel’s hips thrust in hard only a handful more times before he ground them hard against Sam’s ass. There would be more bruises there. Maybe not another handprint, but there was no way that Sam was going to be able to sit down without being reminded of this. He would ache and throb, and it was absolutely perfect. He could feel Gabriel’s cock twitch inside him as he came with a shout, and Sam’s hips bucked as he fought to pull Gabriel in as deep as he could. This was the closest thing he had to pulling Gabriel into him, under his skin and around his bones, and Sam crushed him as close as possible.
Neither of them moved for a long time. Finally, though, Sam’s legs were shaking so badly that he had to let them drop, and Gabriel rubbed a hand along his thigh. It was gentle and soothing, not a healing touch, but just enough to make him relax. Gabriel pressed his lips against Sam’s pulse, kissed at it gently, and Sam smiled when he felt the telltale flick of Gabriel’s tongue against the welt that he knew would be there. Every time Gabriel did that, marked him, there was always a gentle and almost apologetic kiss. It was the other side of the sharp and hungry coin that was the Archangel. He could rend and tear, but he could also soothe. He always took the time to be gentle with Sam after, to kiss him and rub his hands over aching muscle and sensitive skin.
Gabriel lifted his head, and his expression was warm. Fond. Sated and content, too, but there was something else there. Something Sam had felt deep inside of him for months, but couldn’t quite pull to the surface. He knew what it was. He could see it written on Gabriel’s face, but he also knew that neither of them would say the words right after sex. Not the first time. Not yet.
Instead, Gabriel kissed him. He kissed him softly and sweetly. He kissed Sam like he was the most precious thing in the world, and even as relaxed as he was Sam felt it from the top of his head down to his feet. That blooming warmth in his chest grew, and he kissed Gabriel back just as softly and sweetly. He kissed Gabriel like he loved him. Because he did.
Sam settled into the bed, Gabriel’s lips on his, and he trailed his fingers through the angel’s hair. Gabriel practically purred for it, and he pulled his mouth away to nuzzle his nose under Sam’s chin and kiss his way lower. He kissed Sam’s neck, the divot below his throat, down to his chest, and over his heart. Every press of lips was a promise: I’ve got you. I’m yours. Always. I love you. Gabriel lingered there, his lips pressing the warmest and softest kisses where Sam’s heart was still pounding, and he rested his forehead against Sam’s shoulder for a moment as he caught his breath.
“You’re supposed to be working, aren’t you?” Gabriel asked.
He groaned. He’d forgotten about the morgue and the dead bodies and the whole fucking case. Even Dean’s departure had completely left Sam’s mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he ran his fingers through Gabriel’s hair again. He didn’t want to move. He didn’t want to leave their cozy, but messy, bed.
“I hate that you know that,” Sam answered, “and that you’re the one telling me about it.”
“Someone’s gotta be the brains of this outfit, and I’m pretty sure I just fucked yours out of your head.”
Sam made a face. “You’re the worst,” he grumbled.
“Where are you supposed to be right now?” Gabriel asked, and pressed another kiss over Sam’s heart.
“Morgue,” Sam said, “playing FBI Agent.”
“Ooh,” Gabriel chuckled.
“Wanna come?”
“I just-”
“Don’t.”
“Fine,” Gabriel said, “and yes. Let me be the Agent K to your Agent J.”
“It’s not aliens,” Sam groused.
“It could be aliens,” Gabriel teased as he sat up and brushed his fingers along the mark he left on Sam’s neck, “that’s gonna be a good one. Might have gotten a little too into it.”
“It’s fine,” Sam said, and turned to press a kiss to Gabriel’s thumb, “s’what I wanted.”
Gabriel smiled and cocked an eyebrow as he pressed his thumb between Sam’s lips and into his mouth, “Yeah it was,” he teased warmly, “you were begging for it.”
Sam wanted to argue. He wanted to tell Gabriel to stop, but he also never wanted him to. So he sucked languidly on the digit in his mouth until Gabriel pulled it away and brushed it along his lower lip. That gesture alone made his cock twitch. There was no way in hell he was going to be able to go for a round two for a while, but just the subtle way that Gabriel touched him, the way he had him, was enough to make him want to try.
“Come on,” Gabriel said, and lifted his other hand to snap his fingers. Immediately the mess that painted Sam’s chest and stomach was gone, and he felt better than he had when’d collapsed on the bed however long ago. “Let’s get suited up,” he went on, “I can’t wait to see you in action.”
“It’s really not that interesting,” Sam replied, and leaned up on his elbows, “one of these days you’re going to realize that.”
“Nope,” Gabriel laughed, “it’s always fun to watch you try and act all high and mighty around the normies. I get all tingly when you start flashing your badge.”
“Okay,” Sam groaned, and shoved at Gabriel’s shoulders to get him to move.
Gabriel was still buried deep inside him, and when they finally got up Sam mourned the loss. He did, however, note the fact that while Gabriel had cleaned up the mess on the outside , he’d conspicuously left his own mess still inside of Sam. So now he would be going to the morgue not only with the memory of Gabriel’s come dripping down his thighs, but with the real thing too. Sam didn’t want to admit that the idea was…okay, it was fucking hot. He was secure enough in their relationship to know that. It was hot, and he knew Gabriel loved it too.
Once they were dressed, Sam in his usual black suit and Gabriel beside him in a well fitting dark gray one, he turned to the full length mirror outside the bathroom. Gabriel had been the one to tie his tie, and it made Sam’s stomach do flips. There was something so intimate about it, the way Gabriel’s hands moved, and when he was done he’d leaned up for a kiss. Gabriel had paused, sucked in the smallest breath, and Sam could see that his gaze was laser focused on Sam’s neck.
“What?” he asked, and studied himself in the mirror. Just above his collar, even with the tie, a dark red mark colored his neck. It was, indeed, going to be a good one. Sam could see the subtle outline of teeth in the swollen skin, and he lifted a hand to press against it.
“I…” Gabriel started, and cleared his throat, “if it’s too much I can, you know…”
Heal it. Gabriel could heal it. He could take it away. He could, and he would if Sam asked. Sam knew that. Sam had begged for it during the heat of the moment, but the reality of it was a whole different thing. Sam knew Gabriel would take if he wanted him to, and wouldn’t say a word about it again, but Sam also knew what that mark meant. He knew both what it represented, and what it meant to both him and to Gabriel.
Proof.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sam said.