Anyone who knows Sam Winchester for more than five minutes knows he’s a romantic at heart. Circumstances and Fate and no small amount of his brother’s philistinic mocking have eroded Sam’s willingness to indulge it, but his soul yearns for exchanges of small tokens with hidden meanings, for evenings of candlelight and good food and affection, for grand gestures in unexpected moments.
Gabriel has timed it down to the minute. The brothers have separate rooms and Castiel has procured a home-baked strawberry-rhubarb pie for Dean in an attempt to improve the elder hunter’s mood after having only broken even at pool hustling. When he knows Sam is settled in, the archangel pops in with a snap-rustle, smirking at his own cleverness.
“Hey, Sammy… got something to show you.”
Before Sam can protest, they’re gone: flown in a moment to the middle of nowhere. There is a huge blanket laid out, easily large enough for Sam to lie on without dangling off any of the edges, and a small candle lantern casts warm, butter-soft light across an array of carefully selected sweets and savories. There are two thermoses, the contents of which Sam can only guess at, and two small throw pillows to recline against.
“Gabriel?” Sam turns to the smaller man, pleased but uncertain at the meaning behind the gesture. He’s unused to people taking the time to be kind anymore, and never without a catch when it comes from Gabriel.
“Look up,” Gabriel urges, inordinately pleased with himself. The first streaks are just starting to flash across the sky, and they’ll have all night thanks to Dean’s moodiness and Castiel’s willingness to be a distraction…
Until the sky opens above the steppes, pouring torrents of rain onto their heads.
Gabriel lets out an Enochian curse that could blister paint. Sam just laughs, though the archangel can’t think why. “Apparently, archangels can’t predict the weather any better than meteorologists,” the human remarks, clearly amused despite being drenched in an instant.
“I just miscalculated, is all,” Gabriel pouts. It’s not like he can’t replace the food and dry the blanket and pillows with a thought once they find the right place. But the moment is gone, lost to a butterfly’s flap, and he’d been hoping to get tonight the opening he’d been looking for with Sam for months. “We should still be able to see the meteor shower once we get a mile or so north of the storm.”
Sam isn’t budging, and for some reason Gabriel isn’t whisking them away. Maybe it’s the speculative expression in Sam’s eyes, or the way his generous mouth is curved with more genuine amusement than Gabriel’s seen on the boy in years. “You really put some work into this, didn’t you?” the hunter asks, tone careful.
“You’ve always been work, Sammy-boy,” Gabriel replies, still a little sour from the moment being dissolved under the steady flow of the rain.
He doesn’t know Sam picks up on the implicit “you’re worth it”. Is about to snap them somewhere dry and just enjoy the night as friends, companions in league against the Apocalypse…
And then those huge hands are sliding under his arms, lifting him clear off the ground, and those beautiful lips are pressing against his own, tongue tasting rainwater and spun sugar as it licks its way into Gabriel’s open mouth. The archangel doesn’t question it, just wraps arms and legs around the mortal and holds on tight, sealing their lips and moaning at the taste of Sam under warm rain and cheap beer.
How long they linger, Sam doesn’t know. The night is warm and the rain isn’t letting up, but they remain until they’re soaked through and the falling water has doused the lantern on the sodden blanket below their feet. Until they’ve lost track of everything but the taste of the rain on each other’s mouths and the way Gabriel’s weight feels surprisingly right in Sam’s arms.
“We should go someplace dry,” Sam finally suggests, eyes blinking against the droplets on his lashes.
“To see the meteor shower?” Gabriel asks, fingers poised to snap them clear of the stormclouds.
“We can if you want,” Sam agrees amiably, tightening his grip just a bit. “But I already got what I’d’ve wished on a falling star for, so I’m good either way.”
Sunset eyes widen, and then Gabriel is grinning as he whisks them away.
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Music - Kiss the Rain by Billie Myers
Date: 2011-09-07 10:21 pm (UTC)Gabriel has timed it down to the minute. The brothers have separate rooms and Castiel has procured a home-baked strawberry-rhubarb pie for Dean in an attempt to improve the elder hunter’s mood after having only broken even at pool hustling. When he knows Sam is settled in, the archangel pops in with a snap-rustle, smirking at his own cleverness.
“Hey, Sammy… got something to show you.”
Before Sam can protest, they’re gone: flown in a moment to the middle of nowhere. There is a huge blanket laid out, easily large enough for Sam to lie on without dangling off any of the edges, and a small candle lantern casts warm, butter-soft light across an array of carefully selected sweets and savories. There are two thermoses, the contents of which Sam can only guess at, and two small throw pillows to recline against.
“Gabriel?” Sam turns to the smaller man, pleased but uncertain at the meaning behind the gesture. He’s unused to people taking the time to be kind anymore, and never without a catch when it comes from Gabriel.
“Look up,” Gabriel urges, inordinately pleased with himself. The first streaks are just starting to flash across the sky, and they’ll have all night thanks to Dean’s moodiness and Castiel’s willingness to be a distraction…
Until the sky opens above the steppes, pouring torrents of rain onto their heads.
Gabriel lets out an Enochian curse that could blister paint. Sam just laughs, though the archangel can’t think why. “Apparently, archangels can’t predict the weather any better than meteorologists,” the human remarks, clearly amused despite being drenched in an instant.
“I just miscalculated, is all,” Gabriel pouts. It’s not like he can’t replace the food and dry the blanket and pillows with a thought once they find the right place. But the moment is gone, lost to a butterfly’s flap, and he’d been hoping to get tonight the opening he’d been looking for with Sam for months. “We should still be able to see the meteor shower once we get a mile or so north of the storm.”
Sam isn’t budging, and for some reason Gabriel isn’t whisking them away. Maybe it’s the speculative expression in Sam’s eyes, or the way his generous mouth is curved with more genuine amusement than Gabriel’s seen on the boy in years. “You really put some work into this, didn’t you?” the hunter asks, tone careful.
“You’ve always been work, Sammy-boy,” Gabriel replies, still a little sour from the moment being dissolved under the steady flow of the rain.
He doesn’t know Sam picks up on the implicit “you’re worth it”. Is about to snap them somewhere dry and just enjoy the night as friends, companions in league against the Apocalypse…
And then those huge hands are sliding under his arms, lifting him clear off the ground, and those beautiful lips are pressing against his own, tongue tasting rainwater and spun sugar as it licks its way into Gabriel’s open mouth. The archangel doesn’t question it, just wraps arms and legs around the mortal and holds on tight, sealing their lips and moaning at the taste of Sam under warm rain and cheap beer.
How long they linger, Sam doesn’t know. The night is warm and the rain isn’t letting up, but they remain until they’re soaked through and the falling water has doused the lantern on the sodden blanket below their feet. Until they’ve lost track of everything but the taste of the rain on each other’s mouths and the way Gabriel’s weight feels surprisingly right in Sam’s arms.
“We should go someplace dry,” Sam finally suggests, eyes blinking against the droplets on his lashes.
“To see the meteor shower?” Gabriel asks, fingers poised to snap them clear of the stormclouds.
“We can if you want,” Sam agrees amiably, tightening his grip just a bit. “But I already got what I’d’ve wished on a falling star for, so I’m good either way.”
Sunset eyes widen, and then Gabriel is grinning as he whisks them away.