Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1039366.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Gabriel/Sam_Winchester, Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Gabriel_(Supernatural), Sam_Winchester, Castiel_(Supernatural), Dean
      Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Underage_Sex, Underage_Kissing, Cabin_Fic, Summer
      Romance
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-11 Words: 11033
****** What I Did This Summer ******
by nileflood
Summary
     Sam works a good white-collar job in the city, but every so often
     needs an escape to the country. He heads to his family's cabin, up in
     the mountains, but when he gets there he finds he's not the only one
     there trying to get away from it all. Gabriel, a seventeen year old
     runaway, has also made himself at home.
     Against his better judgement, Sam lets him stay, and finds himself
     becoming more and more attached to his resident runaway. Gabriel's
     flirtatious ways don't help, and in what might possibly be the
     biggest mistake of his life, Sam finds himself in bed with the teen.
     With no idea what to do, and in a blind panic, Sam steals Gabriel's
     phone, and calls his brother for advice.Thinking he’s doing the right
     thing, he also dials the number listed under “home”, letting
     Gabriel's family know where he is. When Gabriel’s older brother comes
     to collect him is when things really start to go wrong.
Notes
     With many thanks both to my fantastic beta: cranberryveins and my
     amazing artist: valiantparadox. They are freaking wonderful for
     putting up with me!
     Thank you as well to Bellacatbee who helped me out when I wrote
     myself into corners and needed to expand on my ideas. <3333
The air up there was so pure. It smelt like real air, like the trees and the
lake and nature. Sam filled his lungs again, a smile spreading across his face.
He needed this vacation; the last few weeks in court had been incredibly
stressful and he certainly deserved time to recharge. A couple of weeks in his
family’s cabin, by the lake that he’d spent so many childhood summers splashing
in, was just what the doctor ordered. There were no cell phones, no laptops and
no cars to disrupt the peace and quiet. It was going to be perfect.
He adjusted the straps of his backpack, picked up the carry-all and continued
down the track, enjoying every step. He was going to relax, do a little hiking,
read by the lake. He would cook outdoors. He could ignore every mod-con that
Dean had installed in the cabin; the cappuccino maker would stay gathering dust
in a corner and the satellite TV would be resolutely left off. He was going to
forget all about Dean’s hot-tub and home-gym. This would be Sam Winchester,
getting back to nature.
He hummed as he walked, already feeling the stress and strain of his busy city
life melt away. The cabin was just around the corner, hidden by trees and thick
undergrowth. It was off the beaten track, tucked away in the heart of all that
was beautiful.
No one was going to stumble across it and disrupt his vacation time.
At least, that’s what Sam believed. When the cabin came into view, he
immediately knew that something was wrong. He’d locked it up tight when he’d
last been here- but that had been last summer, and he was a little hazy on the
details. But he had locked the door, he was certain on that point.
But it wasn’t locked now.
Sam was used to hearing about robberies. He lived in the city. He’d never been
robbed himself, but he dealt with enough crime on a day-to-day basis to know
that it happened. He had a realistic view of life in the big city - it might
happen one day, and he would have to deal with it if it did.
He just didn’t expect for the cabin, in the middle of nowhere, to be burgled.
He’d have to notify the local cops, and then tell Dean. It was Dean’s cabin,
technically, left to him by their mom, and Dean would have been the one with
all the insurance information.
Oh hell, Sam hoped Dean had insurance.
He set his bags down and stepped forward, treading silently as he could over
the bare earth outside the cabin, and pushed the door open. It creaked, but
there was no startled noise from inside. There was no car outside, no fresh
tyre tracks. Whoever it was, they were probably long gone by now. Birds and
animals had probably made themselves at home since then. Even so, Sam didn’t
make much noise: he didn’t want anything, or anyone, that was still there to
come and say hello.
He expected to find carnage. Leaves and dirt everywhere, furniture smashed,
everything worth taking gone. The cabin should have felt cold and unwelcoming,
like it was some abandoned place. But it didn’t. The place was a mess, but
Dean’s coffee machine was still on the kitchen counter. There were even dirty
plates in the sink. The TV was still there, and paused on what looked like a
repeat from one of those terrible day time soap-operas.
As far as Sam could tell, there was nothing obviously missing.
Then there was the noise of running water, and instinctively he moved towards
it. It was stupid. He should have gone back down the mountain, gone to the
little town at the bottom of the track and straight to the Sheriff's office. He
didn’t have a gun, or even a baseball bat. He wasn’t thinking, and he knew that
even as he paused, listening. Master bedroom, en suite shower. He was relying
on the element of surprise, and the likelihood that he was bigger than whoever
it was that had broken in.
Correction - on whoever was squatting in the cabin. The bedroom was even worse
than the rest of the cabin, strewn with books and blankets and more empty
packets of chips. There wasn’t really clothes: a puddle of jeans on the bed, a
t-shirt on the floor. Sneakers. Judging by the size, Sam was much, much bigger
than whoever he was about to surprise.
He pulled open the bathroom door, and there was a scream.
He stepped back, dazed as something pink and covered in soap studs grabbed for
the shower curtain, screaming again about perverts and murderers and Sam’s
first instinct was to get away, to protest his innocence. But this was his
cabin, his property. That was his shower, his shower curtain. The fuse switch
for the power shower was on the wall not far from his hand. He flicked it, and
the roar of the water died a spluttering death, leaving the screaming, shouting
creature far more audible.
It was just a kid. A short, sort of chubby kid with sun-streaked hair and
behind the angry words and the cursing, there was fear. Sam felt all his
righteous defending-his-property courage melt away, and instead, he reached for
what looked to be the only relatively clean towel in the place.
“Get dry, get dressed.” He said, when the kid had stopped for breath, and then
he turned and went back to the living room.
He managed to find some washing liquid and a cloth and was making a start on
tidying up when the kid shuffled his way into the living room. He had a bag on
his shoulder, apparently ready to make a dash for it.
He didn’t look thin, or tired, and his clothes were dirty, but Sam thought that
was due to carelessness rather than terrible circumstances. But what did he
know? There was a kid, a runaway kid, in his cabin, about to run away to who-
knew-where. Sam didn’t want that. He wanted to help.
“Hey. I’m Sam. I’m sorry for walking in on you, I thought you’d be a thief.” He
began, not trying to stop the kid, not trying to get between him and the door.
He didn’t really know what he was doing, but he had to help, somehow. Although
part of him, a part with Dean’s voice, corrected ‘help’ to ‘interfere’.
The introduction was friendly enough, or so he thought, but the teenager just
looked at him for a long moment, the bag still on his shoulder.
Sam tried again.
“I’m not angry. If you needed a place to crash, that’s cool. I know no one was
exactly here for you to ask.” He paused, putting down the mug he’d just rinsed
off, expecting the kid to take off at any moment. but he was still there when
Sam glanced around again. “And you can stay here, if you really need to. Or we
can go call someone, if you’d like.”
The boy snorted at that, and let the bag slide from his shoulder onto the
floor.
“No one cares where I am. They’re probably glad I’m gone, if they’ve even
noticed yet.”
Sam didn’t exactly know what to say to that, but it didn’t matter as the teen
didn’t give him much time to reply before he continued.
“No one really likes me. They just want me to be normal. They want me to like
girls and have opinions that are the same as theirs. They don’t want me to be
difficult for them.” With that, he sat down heavily on the couch, and looked at
Sam, tipping his chin up, trying to look defiant. “I’m not going back. If you
want to kick me out, fine. But I’m not going back.”
Sam resisted the urge to sigh. The boy sounded like Dean, petulant and unhappy
with the world. But just like Dean, he wasn’t going to let someone change his
mind, or walk all over him. He was going to be stubborn, but Sam could work
with that.
“Alright,” Sam said, and saw the flicker surprise cross the boy’s face,
although it was quickly hidden. “If you want to stay here, you can. But you’re
going to earn your keep, now that I have to restock the place. You can help dry
up.”
“...Fine.”
The boy got up with a sigh, as if the whole world was against him, and took up
the towel Sam passed him. He dried three plates so aggressively that Sam
worried he was going to take the pattern off them, but he began to calm down
after a moment.
“‘M Gabriel.” The boy said, without looking up. “Not Gay-briel. I’ve heard that
a billion times. It’s Gabriel. Or Gabe.”
Sam nodded, and passed over another plate. “Okay Gabriel.” He said, and Gabriel
looked at him, as if trying to see the joke. But there was none, and he took
the plate, wiping it more carefully with the cloth.
“Well, do you want to tell me about yourself?”
“What, like where my parents are so you can take me back?” Gabriel snapped,
although Sam hadn’t meant that at all. “My parents are both dead. They died
years ago.”
Sam did let the sigh escape then, ignoring the death-glare Gabriel sent his
way. “I meant, you know, how old you are, what your horribles are. That sort of
thing. My name’s Sam, and I’m twenty-seven. I’m a lawyer, mostly corporate
stuff. which seems boring but it isn’t, not really. I have a brother called
Dean and this is technically his cabin, our mom left it to him, but he’s busy
this summer and I needed a break. See? It’s not hard.”
Gabriel stuck out his tongue, a gesture that caught Sam off-guard. He expected
more teenage sulking. “Fine. Hell, this is like first day in class.” But after
a moment of quiet, he spoke again. “I’m eighteen-”
“Liar” Sam put in quickly, because he knew there was no way the boy was that
old.
“-In November,” Gabriel added, smoothly as if he was going to say that all
along, although Sam really doubted that. “And I work in a general store. My
brother won’t let me have a car, I think because if he thought I could drive
then I’d have got further away already. I like comic books and stuff.”
“And stuff?”
Gabriel shrugged, holding his hand out for the next plate or cup. “Stuff.
Cookies. Music, you know, stuff.”
Sam laughed, and nodded, before he grabbed another towel and dried off his
hands. They’d cleaned the pile of plates and glasses left on the kitchen
counters, although it wasn’t exactly much of a start. “How did you manage all
this?” He said, wondering exactly how long it was going to take to get
everything straightened out.
Gabriel shrugged. “At home we have a dishwasher. I mean, this is a cabin with a
power shower and an espresso maker. Why don’t you have a dishwasher?”
It was a good point. Sam didn’t have much of an answer.
---
It took about an hour to straighten up the living room. Gabriel wasn’t very
much help but Sam hadn’t expected him to be. He hadn’t expected the teen to be
so unhappy with the suggestion they head down the mountain to re-stock either,
but Gabriel had been avoiding people by coming up into the hills in the first
place. He might like his creature comforts, but a town filled with people made
him go deathly pale.
Sam went on his own. He expected Gabriel to be gone when he came back, but he
bought enough for both of them to last the rest of the week. He wondered, as he
paid, if he should head to the sheriff's office on the other end of town, if he
should say there was a runaway up at his cabin, if they could check the missing
persons files.
The kid should be reunited with his family. He should be home, where he’d
realise they loved him no matter what, where he’d realise running away was not
an option. But that was so hypocritical. He’d run away. As had Dean. It was
part of growing up. People needed space and sometimes locking yourself in your
room wasn’t going to cut it. He couldn’t betray the boy’s confidence, it made
him feel sick to his stomach. He was just assuming Gabriel hadn’t run away from
anything worse than feeling out of place. If there was something worse, he’d
never be able to forgive himself.
He got the shopping and headed back up the track, hoping that Gabriel would
still be there, and if he wasn’t, that he’d had the sense to take whatever food
was left before he went.
 
But he was there. He had bundled up the dirty sheets and clothes from the
bedroom onto the floor, collected the dishes and put them in the sink, and
generally made far more of an effort than Sam had thought him capable of. It
wasn’t a fair assumption, Sam knew that, but he had pegged Gabriel for the lazy
sort and after seeing the original state of the cabin, it seemed the most
logical expectation.
“I’m impressed.” he admitted, putting down the carrier bag containing the fresh
food - bacon, bread and milk. Gabriel wiped his forehead with one hand, pushing
his hair back from his eyes.
“I guess I realised I’d been sleeping in your bed and I figured you’d probably
like it cleaned up?” He answered, and then began to look through the bags,
turning can of beans and potatoes over and making faces. “Did you get anything
edible?”
“More edible than chips and dip.” Sam said, taking the cans away and shoving
them into a cupboard. “Are you going to finish making that bed?”
“Pushy, pushy.”
But with that, the boy disappeared again, loudly complaining about the poor
quality of the staff at this particular hotel.
---
Gabriel had a reputation. He was a smart boy, everyone agreed on that. He was
just like his brother in that respect. But unlike Castiel, Gabriel had no work
ethic, no drive. He was a lazy boy that expected everything to be handed to him
on a silver platter.
No one disputed that he had it hard. He was being brought up by his brother as
his parents had both died several years ago. They had the town’s only general
store to run, and Gabriel was at that difficult age. He constantly felt that
the world was against him, that no one understood him. It was just a phase,
everyone agreed, but that didn’t excuse Gabriel’s behavior.
The first time he’d run away, he was fourteen. His parents had been dead just
under six months. He packed up in the night and fled. They found him at the
coach stop outside the post office within minutes of starting the search, the
poor child biting back tears. The whole town felt sorry for him. They gave him
free ice-cream cones and let him off when he didn’t have the exact change for
his comic book.
He did it again some weeks later, getting further this time forcing Sheriff
Jody to drive out to the farmstead at Oak Hills to collect him. Castiel had
been beside himself. People had tried to tell Gabriel not to run away again,
not to worry the brother who loved him so much and Gabriel nodded his
understanding, munching on a gift of candies.
And so it continued. Sometimes Gabriel only got as far as the diner and was
bribed with dessert to stay until Cas could come and get him. Sometimes he went
for a couple of days and came back as though nothing had happened. Sometimes he
got halfway down the block before it rained and he’d stomp all the way home,
with the curtains twitching at every house he passed as the neighbours watched
him.
When he did it, no one commented. They rolled their eyes or tutted, pitied
Castiel, but no one took Gabriel seriously anymore.
---
Sam wasn’t a bad cook. He wasn’t amazing or anything, but he was better than
Castiel and he was better than tinned dip and salted pretzel sticks. Not that
Gabriel was going to admit it. He wasn’t going to admit that maybe it was fun,
hanging out with Sam. Aside from the chores that had to be done with sickening
regularity, it wasn’t bad. Gabriel had been frightened Sam was going to make
him learn to fish or something stupid like that, but there hadn’t been anything
so dull.
Sure, Sam had insisted they go hiking, but that wasn’t so bad. Being sort of
unhealthy gave Gabriel an excuse for walking a pace or two behind Sam, giving
him the chance to check out his butt as he walked. It was probably wrong but
Gabriel couldn’t help it. Besides, it was natural to find older guys
attractive. Everyone his age was a douche. Sam was a sexy lawyer from out of
town, who looked absolutely delicious without his shirt on. Not that Gabriel
had been peering through keyholes.
Besides, it was better to have Gabriel perving on Sam, rather than the other
way around. That would have just been creepy, but Sam seemed to be a perfect
gentleman where Gabriel was concerned. He coughed loudly before knocking on
Gabe’s door in the morning to tell him coffee was ready and made sure there was
always about a hundred towels in the bathroom. Gabriel supposed it was a good
thing, but no matter how well mannered Sam was in reality, Gabriel couldn’t
help thinking of filthy little fantasies about being lost in the woods with
him.
----
Gabriel made a sound of pleasure, the sort of noise that was practically a
moan. It made Sam sit up a little straighter, somehow slightly more alert.
"This stuff is good," He said around a big mouthful, licking cheesy pasta sauce
from the corner of his lips. Sam wished he wouldn't do that, miss his mouth all
the time. Maybe then he wouldn't be forever licking.
"You know-" Gabriel continued, making Sam look away from that mouth and to the
gesturing hands. Gabriel spoke with his hands and his eyebrows as much as he
did with his lips and tongue. He liked talking too, holding people's attention.
Sam found himself listening even when Gabriel said absolutely ridiculous
things. Hopefully he'd never want to be a lawyer.
"-I don't... I don't really know how to cook. No one at home really wants to
teach me, so, maybe you could? Just this some of tasty stuff?"
"You mean no vegetables, don't you?"
"Maybe some vegetables. Like parsnip and sweet potato and corn. That stuff's
good." He paused, giving himself enough time to shovel another forkful into his
mouth, chew and swallow. “Not as good as take-away, but no one delivers all the
way out here. Trust me, I tried.”
“What?”
“First few days I was here. I tried to order pizza online. Used the zip code
for the visitors’ centre on the other side of the lake but nada. No one’ll
bring you anything up here.”
“There’s a visitors’ centre? Where did you get internet, up here?”
Gabriel gave Sam an unimpressed look, shaking his head slightly as he went back
to his food. “The cell reception up here is crappy but it worked, eventually.
Google is your friend, Sammy.”
That was just like Gabriel, or so Sam was discovering. Instead of just finding
a recipe online for what he could find in the cabin, he went to the extreme of
finding the nearest usable zip code on unreliable cell-phone internet and
trying to order in that way, which apparently was easy in comparison to cooking
something himself. It was a half-baked sort of plan, considering he’d have to
get across the lake to pick up whatever it was he’d ordered, and that meant a
long walk or finding a rowboat, but it got him out of doing something he
considered work.
Part of Sam found it endearing. The other part of his conscience wondered what
on earth was wrong with him.
Then he realised Gabriel was looking at him again, a fine golden-brown eyebrow
raised as he chewed. Sam wasn’t sure what was so interesting, but he suddenly
felt like he was a teen again, walking past a group of cooler, tougher kids
after school. They were laughing, and he was sure it was at him.
“Have I got sauce on my shirt?” He asked, trying to laugh it off, shifting
uncomfortably.
“Nothing.” Gabriel said, grinning and sitting back in his chair, pushing the
empty plate away from him slightly. “You were just looking at me weirdly. Are
you going to teach me how to cook?”
--
The water got him in his eyes and mouth, making him splutter even as he laughed
and wiped it away with a hand just as wet. Gabriel was already trying to wade
away, making slow progress against the sticky red clay on the lake bed.
It was wonderful to be in the water, even if it wasn't clear and their antics
scared away the fish. The woods were too hot, too humid. But this? This was
bliss.
It had been far too long since Sam had done anything but swim lengths in a
pool, and he was beginning to think splashing around was a lot more fulfilling.
He pushed his hair out of his eyes, watching Gabriel's attempt at a retreat.
"Oh no! You're not getting away that easily!"
The water wasn't deep, but enough to swim in and avoid the crawling mud.
"Gotcha!" He called as he wrapped his arms around Gabriel, the teen emitting an
undignified squawk as he slipped on the clay and fell backwards into the water,
on top of Sam.
They both came up laughing and panting for air, although Gabriel quickly
stopped laughing, playing the injured party with the most ridiculous pout Sam
had seen since his own high-school days.
"I'll get my revenge." Gabriel threatened, still pouting. Sam couldn't help but
laugh at that.
"Maybe in about five years time." He said, reaching out to pat Gabriel's cheek.
He certainly wasn't expecting Gabriel to nip him.
"Ow!" Sam said, dragging his hand away and shaking it, surprised that it hurt.
"What are you, a puppy?"
"You were patting me," Gabriel pointed out, and the rolled his eyes as Sam
started to check his hand for puncture marks. "You are such a big baby. I'll
kiss it better."
"Gabe, no-" Sam began, but he found himself powerless as Gabriel tugged his
hand forwards, pressing his lips to the palm.
That should have been it, but Gabriel didn't let go of Sam's hand, his eyes
fixed on Sam's as he took Sam's thumb between his lips, sliding all the way
down before easing back, letting it free with a soft popping sound.
Sam's stomach tied itself into knots, hot uncomfortable knots that the cold
lake water really didn't do anything to calm. It was then that he managed to
pull his hand away, Gabriel's eyes still fixed on him with a dangerous amount
of interest.
"I... I think we should... I should..."
Sam floundered, and gave up. He had no idea what to say, and even less of an
idea of what to do when Gabriel pressed up against him in the water, his hand
curling at the nape of Sam's neck, pulling his head down for a kiss.
--
Gabriel laughed, tumbling backwards as his legs pumped into the bed. Sam’s
mouth was pressed against his throat, kissing, biting, leaving marks, but
Gabriel didn’t care as they tumbled down onto the bed.
There were hot butterflies in his stomach, making him feel a strange, nervous
sort of excitement as he wriggled underneath Sam, pressing his knee between
Sam’s thighs, feeling the hard line of the man’s cock and the answering sharp
intake of breath against his neck.
“I thought you said you hadn’t done this before.” Sam muttered, voice low,
making the butterflies in Gabriel’s stomach all the warmer.
“Yeah,” Gabriel said, shifting from underneath Sam and rolling them both over,
sitting on Sam’s hips and squirming pointedly. The noise that Sam made was
hungry and made Gabriel feel even better. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know
what I’m doing.”
He pressed his lips to Sam’s again, his hands tugging at Sam’s shirt. It had
lost a couple of buttons when they’d started making out on the couch, and all
Gabriel had to do was shove it down Sam’s shoulders.
The skin underneath was hot and tanned and gorgeous, the muscles toned and for
a moment, this seemed like something straight out of porn, but with better
dialogue and a nicer bed. Real men didn’t look like Sam, he was almost sure of
that, and even if they did, they weren’t interested in people as short or plain
as Gabriel.
Sam kissed him again, harder, as if he somehow he what Gabriel was thinking. It
was enough to bring Gabriel back to the moment, tugging at his own shirt even
as he tried to kiss back. It didn’t take long to wrestle the rest of their
clothes off, for Sam to wrestle Gabriel back down onto the mattress, kissing
and touching and caressing until Gabriel was breathless, his cock throbbing,
aching in Sam’s hand.
“Spread your legs.” Sam coaxed, leaning over Gabriel to reach into the bedside
table. He heard the sound of a drawer opening and closing, and Gabriel saw the
tube of lubricant and condoms as Sam settled back down.
“So you do get laid up here sometimes.” He teased, before Sam’s thumb swept
over the head of his dick, reducing Gabriel to whimpers as his hips bucked. But
he did spread his legs, trying to calm himself down and taking deep breaths as
the slick, cool wetness of the lube touched his skin.
Sam’s fingers gently stroked, easing slowly into Gabriel’s hole. This wasn’t
the first time he’d felt something like that, but Sam’s fingers were bigger
than his own and he could hardly stop himself from moaning as Sam worked him
open, first with one finger and then with a second.
“Ohgodohgodohgod,” Gabriel gasped sharply, cheeks reddening and hands curling
into the bedsheets as his eyes closed. It was almost too much, and yet it
wasn’t enough, not yet. But Sam had stopped, his hands still, making Gabriel
whine.
“Are you sure about this?” Sam said, suddenly looking uncertain. Gabriel would
have thought he looked sweet, at any other time. But now it was a delay, a
delay in him getting what he wanted, and it was the last thing he wanted to
hear.
“I’m sure, Sam! Don’t stop again or I swear I’ll be the one fucking you.”
Maybe it was the edge of desperation in Gabriel’s voice, or the offer, but Sam
laughed, fingers twisting inside Gabriel until he cursed, squirming back onto
Sam’s fingers. It was good, so good. But it didn’t last long until the Sam
stopped again, fingers easing free.
“I told you not to-“ Gabriel began, before he saw Sam’s hand pumping over his
thick cock. Gabriel felt all the moisture in his mouth dry up, body tensing
with sudden anticipation. He didn’t bother to finish what he was saying, not as
Sam rolled one of the condoms down, glancing back at Gabriel’s face.
“You told me what?” He asked, copying Gabriel’s teasing as he moved, pressing
Gabriel back
down onto the sheets, guiding Gabriel’s legs around him, keeping them pressed
together as he guided his cock against Gabriel’s hole.
“You’re lucky you’re so cute.” Gabriel bit back, teeth catching on Sam’s lip,
maybe a little too hard as Sam began to move inside him, their hips rocking.
Three fingers hadn’t been enough, Gabriel wanted to tell him, but didn’t, not
when Sam began to shift his hips faster, his hands gripping the tops of
Gabriel’s thighs, hard. It would leave marks, but Gabriel wanted them. He
wanted more and he was going to wear them with pride.
Sam moved again, harder this time and faster. This was better than jerking off
in the shower, or in bed in the morning when Castiel was out the house,
pressing his fingers into himself and palming his cock.
It was almost overwhelming, Sam’s breath hot against his jaw, the edge of pain
and pleasure and the throbbing of his own cock trapped between them. It was all
he could do to hold on, fingers gripping tight to Sam’s shoulders, nails biting
into flesh.
When he came it was sudden, heat rushing through him as he trembled, panting
hard. He could feel his heart beat everywhere in his body, tingling up and down
his spine and through his legs, and for a moment he felt dazed, looking up into
Sam’s eyes.
He was breathless, his long brown hair in disarray as he pressed another,
sweeter kiss against Gabriel’s mouth.
For the first time in a long while, Gabriel couldn’t think of a single thing to
say.
 
--
Gabriel was asleep, clutching at the pillow, snoring away. It took Sam a
minute, blinking at the ceiling, to realise Gabriel was lying next to him,
asleep. Asleep and naked, more importantly.
Then it flooded back and Sam was up and out of the bed at break-neck speed,
dragging the blankets with him and almost falling over them in his effort to
get away, catching himself on the wall and then freezing, staying still as he
could manage with his heart suddenly racing and thumping against his ribcage.
But Gabriel only stirred as the blanket pulled across him, rolling over into
the warm space Sam had vacated. He didn’t wake up.
Sam breathed out, feeling relax wash over him, although it didn’t last long. He
was naked, something dry and unpleasant over his thighs and belly.
Oh god oh god oh god.
A horrible sense of dread and panic settled over him. He felt sick and weak,
and it was more than he could deal with alone.
He found his jeans, pulling them on and ignoring the discomfort, rushing to the
other bedroom, the one where Gabriel was meant to be sleeping now, innocent and
sweet and on his own. It was a terrible invasion of privacy, but Sam had no
other choice. He had to make a call.
The cell was on the bedside table. It was on, and thankfully there was no
passcode to get into it. Sam’s fingers shook, but he managed to dial Dean’s
number.
“What the fuck do you want?”
Dean answered the third time Sam tried, his voice dripping with hate for
whoever had called him at this ungodly hour of the night.
“Dean, it’s me.”
“Sam?” Dean’s tone changed completely. This wasn’t some idiot from the office
or a salesperson calling from the other side of the planet. This was family,
and Dean could always step up to the mark. “Where are you? What’s happened?
It’s 2am.”
“I know. I know, I’m sorry but I’ve been really, really stupid.”
“Do you need bail money?”
“Not yet. No Dean I, I slept with a teenager.”
There was a pause, a second or two and Sam could picture Dean’s face. He was
torn between congratulating his brother and wondering if this really was Sam he
was talking to. Clearly the note of hysteria in Sam’s voice dissuaded him from
making any comments along those lines. “Do you mean barely-legal, definitely
legal or creepy, Sam?”
“I mean seventeen. Dean, it was a mistake. I lost my head and there was wine
and-”
“You didn’t get them drunk ,did you?”
“No! He tried it and didn’t want any so... I think I finished the bottle.” He
could hear his voice rise an octave, panic finding an escape through his words,
but it didn’t help. It didn’t settle the nausea in his stomach or the pounding
in his head. What had he been thinking? Had he even been thinking at all?
“Right. Sammy. Deep breath okay? In. Out. You’re not the first guy to ever make
a mistake. It happens to the best of us, okay. Heat of the moment. I’ll be
right over.”
Sam took in a deeper breath, nodding. Dean was coming over. It was stupid that
it made him feel better, but it did. His heart rate slowed a little and he felt
less like the world was spinning around him. He sat down heavily on the single
bed. “Alright. I’ll see you soon.”
Dean rang off. It would take him a good few hours to get there, but he was on
his way. It was stupid. They were both adults, both had separate lives, but
when Sam needed someone he didn’t reach out to his friends, he went to his
brother. And his brother dropped everything to help. It made him feel better.
He glanced down at the phone in his hands, the screen bright. He swiped his
thumb over the screen, watching the buttons change, and prayed Dean would get
there soon.
---
There was a strange, unusual noise that woke him. It wasn’t the shower or the
birds or the coffee machine, noises that he was used to hearing in the middle
of the woods at stupid times of the morning. That was why it took him a moment
to recognise it for what it was. It was an engine, a truck engine ticking over.
It was horrible and familiar and he got up, blinking and rubbing at his eyes.
The window faced the lake, not the track, so he had no choice. He grabbed a
shirt- Sam’s from the night before. It smelt like him when Gabriel tugged it
on, forcing the sleeves up so he could see his hands. He had to know.
Sam wasn’t still there. He got up stupidly early, but Gabriel had thought
they’d wake up together. He would have felt safer if Sam had stayed, but the
fact was that he was gone and everything else frightened him.
“Sam? Sammy?” He called out, peering out of the door towards the kitchen. There
was no one in sight, no answer. He had no choice. He went out, barefooted,
towards the front of the cabin.
There it was. The beaten-up, rusty blue pickup truck that belonged to his
brother.
“There you are! Gabriel-”
And there was Castiel, climbing out the driver’s side, Gabriel’s rucksack
already on the seat next to him.
Gabriel didn’t bother wondering how or why or when, he just turned and ran. He
wasn’t going back. He wanted to stay with Sam; he wanted to stay in the cabin.
He ran, stumbling through the undergrowth, trying to get as far away as he
could. Plants slapped at his bare legs, leaves got in his face, twigs dug into
his feet.
“Gabriel, stop! This is stupid!”
Castiel was behind him. He could hear him, hear him running and breathing and
then his arms wrapped around his middle and he fell, cursing.
“Get off me, get off me!” He shouted, pushing at his older brother, but Castiel
had a tight hold on him now and wasn’t about to let him go.
“Gabriel, you’re coming home!”
That was the worst thing about Castiel. He didn’t shout, he didn’t swear, but
he made it so very clear that he was disappointed, that he was hurt. But most
of all, he wasn’t going to let Gabriel off the hook, he wasn’t going to let him
go.
Gabriel stopped struggling, and shoved at his brother again. “I hate you.”
“You’ve told me that before. You know how long you’ve been away? Two weeks!
Sheriff Jody was going to have the river searched! I thought you were dead!”
Gabriel steeled himself against the words, from the hurt in Castiel’s eyes. He
said nothing, but let Castiel grab him by the elbow and march him back to the
truck. He climbed in, pulling the shirt down as far as he could, ignoring
Castiel as he climbed in besides him.
There was still no sign of Sam.
Gabriel stopped looking as Castiel put the hulking beast of a truck into gear
and then slowly took it down the narrow winding tracks back towards town.
“How did you know I was up there?” Gabriel asked eventually, breaking the
unhappy, heavy silence. He didn’t want to go back home. He didn’t.
“Someone called the store in the middle of the night and left a message.”
There was one person that knew he was up there. One person who hadn’t dared to
show his face that morning. “Oh my god.” The realisation hit him like a brick
to the face, and before he knew it, before the chance he had to stop it, tears
were rolling down his face. “I can’t believe he’d do that! He sold me out!” He
kicked the dashboard, making Castiel yell in surprise, looking at his brother
with concern. “I thought he was going to stay with me! I hate him!”
How dare Sam do that to him?! To call Castiel, to have him picked up once Sam
had finished with him. Used him. Not even leave it a day before he threw
Gabriel out on his ass. He's thought Sam was a decent guy but now he realised
it wasn't true. It made Gabriel feel sick, and angry.
“I’m sorry, Gabriel. Sometimes... the people you love hurt you.” Castiel said,
glancing at his brother, still worried. “Boyfriends you have when you’re
young... they’re not always the best relationships.”
Gabriel sniffed, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of the shirt, trying not to
seem like such a baby. He was, after all, an adult now. After last night. “I
slept with him.” He managed in a small voice, but Castiel heard it, and
twitched slightly in response. He probably didn’t want to know the intimate
details of Gabriel’s love life.
“Get upstairs and... freshen up. You’ll feel better. I need to open the store.
We’ll talk about this later.”
It took a long time for Gabriel to calm down, stomping angrily up the stairs to
the little flat they lived in above their store. His knuckles were white as he
tore off Sam’s shirt, trying to block out the words as they filtered up through
the floorboards. He slammed the drawers and the cupboard doors as he searched
for clothes. But rather than dress and go downstairs so he was ready when
Castiel opened the store, he got in the shower instead.
He was filthy, after all. There was mud and dirt splattered up his legs from
where he'd run through the woods and now that he had a chance to think, he felt
sore. The hot water helped with that, eased the dull ache in his hips and
shoulders and the tightness in his calf muscles. Soap washed off the muck. But
there wasn't any getting rid of the red mark on his shoulder, a mark that would
turn into a bruise and that Gabriel wanted rid of more than anything else.
He stayed under the water until Castiel banged on the door. He dressed, still
seething, and stomped back down the stairs and through the Staff Only door,
grabbing his apron off the peg.
He knew his chores. Stock the shelves, help anyone who needed it (even the old
ladies who delighted in telling him what a handsome boy he was, how he'd find a
nice young lady soon but oh if only they were forty years younger!). Then he
swept, or cleaned the windows or dusted.
Today he swept. That way he could stand in a dark dank corner and glare.
---
No matter how smooth the drive or how good the radio, after a long drive early
in the morning there were certain things a man had to do.
Dean had booked a week’s emergency leave, pulling over on the freeway as soon
as the clock hit 9am. He'd already been driving for hours, a hold-all tossed in
the trunk. Sam had actually picked the best time of year to have his little
crisis, and it had been a while since Dean had been at been at the cabin for
any more than a long weekend.
He pulled up in the little town at the foot of the mountains, outside the
little ma and pa store he remembered from his childhood. He'd tried to buy
cigarettes here at fourteen, but that had held no sway with the owners.
It'd probably changed hands several times since then, he thought as he stepped
in, ignoring the sullen looking kid sweeping in the corner and instead going
straight for the essentials. Beer. Porn. Beef jerky. Pizza.
He sauntered up to the cashiers desk, wondering of Sam wanted anything, but he
probably was too wound up to eat.
"Just this." Dean said, dumping the stuff down on the desk and then looked up.
That was when it felt like all the breath had been forced from his body.
"Castiel? Cas! It's me, Dean Winchester! My family have a cabin up in the
mountains! I used to come down here in summer!"
"I remember." Castiel said coldly, his blue eyes narrowed. "Can I see some ID?"
"What? Cas! You know me! We used to-"
"I'm sorry, I don't make the rules. I need to see ID."
Dean didn't speak again, discouraged by the clipped, unfriendly tone. He pulled
his driving licence from his wallet, and then some bills, tossing them down on
the register before picking up his items.
"Thank you." Castiel said, as the bell over the door rang to signal Dean's
departure. "Gabriel, I'm just going to the office. I won't be long."
There was no reply.
“Gabriel?”
Castiel slipped out from behind the counter, frowning as he looked between the
aisles. There was nowhere to hide in the store, not for a teenager, even a
small one. But Gabriel wasn’t hiding. The apron lay on the floor discarded, the
broom leant against the wall. He was gone.
---
Dean pulled up outside the cabin, turning off the radio. The place looked much
like it always had done, the trees casting dappled shade on the little
clearing. It looked peaceful. Well, apart from Sam in the doorway, looking pale
and sickly. His hair was a mess and frankly a haircut was long overdue, but
Dean wasn’t about to say that. Not when his brother needed him.
“Hey, Sammy.” He said, getting out and heading towards the cabin. Sam looked
relieved, but then another doors opened, and someone (something?) pushed past
Dean, shoving him to the side.
The blur- well, not much of a blur really- ran towards Sam, and before he had a
chance to react, had punched him in the nose.
“You bastard!” It shouted, and then Dean was there, grabbing it around the
middle as it tried to move back in for another punch, physically hauling him
away.
“What the hell- Sam!” Dean managed, as Sam’s hand moved away from his jaw,
blood staining his lower lip. Dean was impressed, although considering how the
kid was struggling in his arms, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the kid
had done some damage.
“Get off me! Get off me, I’m going to hit him again!”
“Kid, that’s the reason I’m not letting you go.” Dean told him, still holding
tight. “Sam, is this the boy-?” He asked, and Sam nodded in answer, looking
ashamed and even worse than he had before.
“You know how to pick ’em, don’t you?” Dean muttered.
“Oi! I heard that!” The teen snapped, but the struggling had ceased, more or
less, and was now simply a half-hearted attempt to elbow Dean in the ribs.
“Gabriel, I’m sorry.” Sam said, words a little muffled before he wiped blood
from his mouth again, “I thought it was best. I shouldn’t... what I did was a
mistake.”
Dean felt the teen tense up and he braced himself for another attempt to break
free, to launch at Sam again, but it didn’t come. Instead Gabriel tipped his
head up and glared until Sam looked away.
“I was a mistake, is that what you’re saying?” Gabriel asked, words bitter and
venomous and even Dean winced. “You accidentally slept with me, that’s right?
And when you realised, you thought you’d just... get rid of me? Why didn’t you
man up?”
The clearing fell silent. There was the rustling of leaves and the sound of
birds, but there was no human noise. Not until Gabriel pulled himself out of
Dean’s hold and stepped up to Sam, his chin still held high. He didn’t try and
hit him again, although Dean half expected it.
“I really liked you.” Gabriel breathed, so soft that Dean only caught part of
it.
“I’m sorry. I liked you too.”
“Right. I’d like to go home now.”
That last part was louder, Gabriel turning his back on Sam and heading back to
the car, opening the passenger side door and getting in.
Dean breathed out. “Dude, what the fuck have you got yourself into?”
“Look, I didn’t plan for it to happen! It just... did. I can’t go back and
change it now. I just... didn’t want to hurt him. He’s alright. I mean-”
Sam faltered under Dean’s look, giving up and letting his shoulders slump from
the defensive hunch.
“I guess I’m driving him back into town?” Dean knew he was before he even
asked. He didn’t much like anyone else driving his car anyway, but in his
current state, Sam couldn’t be trusted not to drive it into a tree or through a
hole in the road.
“I think that would be best. I’m sorry, Dean.”
“Just... make a coffee. I’ll be back in ten.”
With that he shut the back door, scowling at the interior, making sure the teen
hadn’t scuffed up the seats when he’d been hiding back there, and then slid
into the driver’s seat.
--
Castiel hadn't even had the chance to call Jodie and tell her that Gabriel was
home. He hadn't had the chance to do anything at all, not when he couldn't
afford to close the store.
Now though he had no choice. He'd turned the sign and locked the door and and
then run out after his brother, calling out for him. Gabriel had ducked away
down a side-street, disappearing from view. All he could do was look for him,
go to his usual haunts.
Within half an hour he'd almost given up. Gabriel had spirited himself away
again, and was probably on the Greyhound already.
That was when he saw it. The sleek black shape of Dean Winchester's car,
heading towards him.
For a moment Castiel thought that he was sixteen again, that Dean Winchester
was driving into town just to see him, to pick up and sneak him off to the lake
up in the mountains, to steal him away for an hour or so of making out before
Castiel had to go back home, or until young Deputy Jody caught them.
It was only when the car pulled up onto the curb that Castiel realised that it
wasn’t stopping for him, but that there was already a familiar figure in the
passenger's seat. It was Gabriel, his eyes red rimmed. He jumped out of the car
as soon as it had slowed, even though it hadn’t fully stopped, and dashed past
before Castiel could pull him into his arms, heading towards the store.
“What did you do to him?” Castiel demanded, whirling around to face Dean,
wishing someone or something would strike him down then and there for all the
pain he caused. He’d bought beer and porn that morning, he’d been using Gabriel
all the time they’d been up at that cabin and now, now Gabriel had been in the
car with him again- Gabriel had run back to him, and had his heart broken.
Just like Dean had broken Castiel’s.
“What? No! Cas-”
Castiel didn’t want to hear it. He shoved him, hard. “You leave him alone,
Dean! You keep your hands off him! He’s my little brother, you disgusting-”
“Whoa! Cas, Cas! Calm down! There’s nothing-”
“He’s seventeen! I swear, if you don’t walk away now I’ll go straight to the
sheriff!”
That made him stop, made Dean take a step back, away from Castiel. He’d always
been scared of Jody, Castiel remembered that. He didn’t want to be caught by
her, he didn’t like her finding them out in the woods, threatening to tell
Dean’s father.
He’d stopped coming down in summer, eventually. It had left Castiel feeling
alone, completely. Unwanted. Until he realised what an insect Dean Winchester
really was. He’d been glad that he’d gone, that Dean wasn’t coming back.
But now he was here and doing the same thing all over again.
Dean was still shaking his head though, as if Castiel was wrong and Dean was
completely innocent. “You’re crazy, Cas.” He said, turning his back and walking
across the street to the diner, leaving Castiel breathing hard and standing
alone on the sidewalk.
Dean was a creep. He was a horrible creep who had the gall to pretend he’d done
nothing wrong. That he was still taking advantage of boys who fell for his
charm and his good looks. He brushed off the fact he’d been ruining Castiel’s
life for years. Castiel hated him. He hated him now more than he had all those
years ago.
He wanted to react. He wanted to hurt Dean like Dean was hurting him, hurting
his family, hurting his brother. But he didn’t know how.
They he saw it. In a narrow alley between the buildings, discarded with the
trash and waiting for collection, a broken mop handle, a little rusted and with
the paint chipped off, lying amongst the dandelions.
It was a moment of madness. Terrifying, horrible madness. He watched himself do
it, somehow separated from himself as the length of metal was lifted, as it was
swung at the rear windscreen of Dean’s car.
It only took a heartbeat, although now Castiel’s heart was buzzing, vibrating
in his chest rather than beating. By the time he was taking another breath, the
tail lights were smashed too, and he was making his way to the driver’s side,
leaving beautiful shards over the asphalt.
There was, he realised somehow, the sound of furious shouting and then the
metal was being pulled from his hands.
“What the fuck are you doing??”
It took Castiel a moment longer to fully regain control of himself, with Dean
ranting and raging, and a small crowd watching from the steps of the diner. The
hot flash of rage had gone, but it still bubbled under the surface.
He didn’t even care about the audience then, he couldn’t. “I don’t care Dean!
You slept with my little brother and you broke his heart! This is just a car! A
car!”
“For god’s sake Cas, I didn’t touch your brother! It was Sam! Sam!”
Castiel blinked. “Sam?”
“Yes! My little brother? Don’t you remember? Always wanted to come with us?
Thought were were really going on nature hikes? He’s been up at the cabin.”
Castiel sat down heavily, knees weakening as he accepted this. “Oh god. Dean.
I’m sorry. I was so worried- I... I thought- when Gabriel told me-” He
swallowed, trying to stay calm. “I’ll pay for the damage.”
Dean sat down next to him, pushing a hand through his hair, dropping his voice.
Most of the people at the diner had drifted back in now that the shouting
seemed to have stopped, but this was personal, private, and Dean didn’t want
anyone still outside listening in. “It’s... it’s okay, Cas. I know. You were
worried. Sam... Sam is a good guy. I’m not saying what he did was right, I
mean... we were teenagers...”
“You were nineteen the last time.” Castiel pointed out. “I was still sixteen.”
Dean had been handsome then, but older, with proper stubble at his jaw and
smarter, wiser eyes. He had even been more attractive, at least in looks. He
glanced away from Dean and back towards the store. He should go. Gabriel might
need him. No matter how much of a draw Dean had been, or was again, Castiel had
other priorities.
“I have to go.” He said, getting to his feet, bringing Dean’s damaged car back
into full view. “Er... You can bring your things to the store, if you want?
Call the auto shop from there?”
---
 
Dean had never been past the “Staff Only” sign behind the counter at the
General Store. All those summers ago, he’d gone around the back to the
squeaking screen door, knocked there and waited for Castiel. Now Castiel
ushered him through, towards a tiny kitchen with an old, worn table taking up
most of the space. Dean sat himself down when Castiel disappeared upstairs to
check on his brother.
He didn’t run down straight away, so Dean assumed Gabriel had gone home instead
of running off again. Half an hour went by until Castiel came down again,
moving to sit opposite Dean at the table.
“He’s okay. He wants a tattoo that says ‘I hate Sam Winchester’ but I’m sure
he’ll get over that.” Castiel said, glancing at Dean and then down at the
table.
“I guess you probably wanted one too, back then?”
“Oh, not a tattoo. But I wrote it in my journal a lot.”
Dean nodded, and for a moment, the room was silent. “I should have come back,
Castiel, I know that. I’m sorry I didn’t. But I thought... I was going to
college then and I thought that you’d meet some guy here and you’d like him and
it’d be better than just, you know, summer flings. And I know, it was stupid! I
thought that after, but by then I thought it was too late to come back here. My
mom, she told me about what happened to your folks, and I thought just showing
up would... make your life even harder.”
Castiel managed a smile, although it wasn’t a very happy one, rather one of
understanding. “There weren’t any men like you in my life, Dean. Hasn’t been
since. I missed you. I could have... used your support. But we managed.”
Dean sighed, reaching for Castiel’s hand across table, squeezing it. “He’s a
good kid, Castiel. You should have seen him hit Sammy, right in the-”
“He hit Sam?” Castiel sounded horrified, not impressed like Dean expected him
to be, but the horror soon became a laugh.
“I felt like hitting you when you left.”
“Hey, you saved it all up and went to town on my car. That backseat is going to
need a lot of work to get all the glass out.”
Castiel dipped his head, ashamed, but Dean squeezed his hand again, trying to
distract him. “It’s not the usual work we used to do on that seat, huh?”
--
It was dark by the time Gabriel crept downstairs. He was hungry. He’d been
hungry most of the day - after all, the last thing he’d eaten had been with
Sam, and with everything that had happened since, he’d more than worked it all
off.
He didn’t much want to show his face. Castiel had talked to him. He’d tried to,
anyway, stroking Gabriel’s back as his baby brother had cried. He’d gone at
some point, after Gabriel had fallen into a dreamless and unsatisfying sleep.
He knew Castiel would ask him how he felt, that he’d want Gabriel to be better,
to act like everything was over.
Just because Gabriel’s stomach was rumbling didn’t mean it was over.
He pushed the kitchen door open, and there was Castiel, a steaming mug in his
hands, his head bent over of a collection of old photographs he must have
pulled out from under his own bed. He wasn’t alone. There was Sam’s brother
with his head bent too, sat far too close against Castiel, all too friendly.
Both of them were grinning like idiots.
Gabriel didn’t want to be noticed, but the door creaked and Castiel looked up,
startled. He looked embarrassed, like he’d been caught kissing at the
bleachers.
“Gabriel! I’m sorry I didn’t wake you. Dean and I were just looking at photos
from when I was... a little younger than you. I’m glad you’re awake. Are you
feeling better?”
Gabriel snorted, fetching himself cereal and sinking down on the opposite side
of the table to shovel it into his mouth. “You two had a thing, didn’t you?” He
asked, pointing between his brother and Dean with his spoon.
Castiel began to protest, his cheeks going red but the man next to him just
shrugged.
“I thought so.” Gabriel muttered. There was a moment of silence, only broken by
Gabriel’s chewing. He was thinking, his eyes fixed on the pictures scattered on
the table, of Castiel and Dean climbing on house-sized rocks up at the lake, or
at the diner with Dean’s arm thrown around Castiel’s shoulders.
They looked happy. It looked like they’d had fun.
He’d had fun, with Sam. He’d been a dick in the end, but Gabriel didn’t
actually think he was a dick, just acted like one. The fun they’d had had been
real, the laughter had been real. Most of it had been innocent, tinged with
something Gabriel couldn’t put his finger on but was probably lust. He didn’t
want to write the summer off as a bad memory, a bad experience. He wanted to
remember the good parts.
“Dean, I want you to drive me back up to the cabin.”
“What? Gabriel, I think you should stay-” Castiel began.
“No. I want to talk to Sam. I’m not going to let things end like they did; I
want to draw a line in the sand.” Gabriel said, shaking his head. He wasn’t
going to let things rest. “I want clear the air. Then Sam can go back to the
city without feeling guilty and I can move on and just remember this summer as
the one when I had a stupid fling.”
Castiel looked uncertain, as if he still had major reservations about Gabriel
going back up there at all. He glanced at Dean, and then quickly away again.
Dean wasn’t Gabriel’s guardian, and he wasn’t exactly the best person to ask
for advice on the matter. They were all too interconnected.
But Gabriel had a point. They couldn’t just leave matters as they stood. That
bred resentment and bitterness, and armed with that, Castiel didn’t want to
imagine what sort of adult Gabriel would grow into.
“Alright. You can go back, if Dean is happy to drive you. But I’m coming too.”
 
He supposed this was what little kids felt like when their parents drove them
up to camp or something, sitting in the back while mom and dad talked up front.
Except that Castiel and Dean weren't his parents, and they weren't talking.
Gabriel had the feeling that each time they glanced at each other they wanted
to say something, but held back while Gabriel was there and listening in.
Thankfully it wasn't a long drive, and as soon as the car's headlights lit up
the cabin, Sam was outside, shielding his eyes from the glare.
"Dean! Where have you been? You've been gone all afternoon! I thought something
had happened to you..."
Dean opened his door, but Gabriel was already climbing out and stomping towards
the much taller man. Sam noticed him too late, taking a step backwards but
Gabriel was already in front of him, poking him in the chest.
"Sam Winchester, we are going to talk. Like adults. Alright?" He paused then,
trying to ignore the spark he felt just standing so close to Sam. He did feel
some of his resolve weaken, and maybe his tone softened. "I just... I don't
want this to ruin summer for me, and when you go home I don't want you thinking
you're some creep, okay? So can we talk?"
Sam blinked, as if he'd been expecting a storm of abuse, and he wasn't sure
what to do when it didn't come. But he recovered, pulling himself together and
glancing back towards the car. Dean and Castiel were still out of sight and
Gabriel was grateful for that. They were probably ready to jump in and separate
him and Sam if things looked like they were going to turn violent. Thankfully,
that was already out of Gabriel’s system. He felt guilty about it now,
especially when he noticed the puffiness of Sam's lip, the touch of blood that
remained.
"Okay. We can talk." Sam agreed, looking back to Gabriel and nodding. He seemed
to know that they had to talk, that Gabriel was determined to do it. Sam
already knew that Gabriel would get his way sooner or "Come in. There's
coffee."
---
The pair of them stepped inside, and Castiel moved to follow, stopping when
Dean's hand touched his arm.
"I don't think they need a chaperone, Cas." He said, watching the cabin door
shut behind them. "Come on. We can go for a walk."
Castiel paused, torn. But then his worried expression melted into a smile. "I'd
like that, Dean."
---
Gabriel sat down on the couch, trying not to fidget. Sam had come in before
him, but remained standing, looking almost as uncertain as Gabriel felt.
"I've been thinking-" He started.
"Sam, we-" Gabriel said at the same time, and then the awkwardness started over
again. "Sam, please." Gabriel began again, moving over on the seats. "Sit down.
Talk to me. I'm not going to cry."
The man folded himself down, almost flopping into the cushions. "I wanted to
say, Gabriel. I'm sorry." He held up a hand, to stop Gabriel interrupting. "I
mean it. I felt bad about what I... what we did. I know at the time I was... I
wasn’t thinking. I shouldn’t have slept with you. I mean, I wanted to, but it
wasn’t right. I was taking advantage of the situation you were in.”
Gabriel nodded, sighing and shifting in his seat. He wanted to lean into Sam,
to tell him it was okay. After all, Gabriel had wanted it as much as Sam had,
he was certain of that. “What we did was wrong. I had something to do with it
too. I was more upset that you rang Cas.”
“I panicked. I thought, after what I did, that you should be with your family
and they’d keep you safe. From me.”
“I don’t need anyone to keep me safe, Sam, not from you. You didn’t hurt me.
You didn’t want to hurt me. You’re not a bad guy.” Gabriel reached for him,
curling their fingers together and squeezing.
Sam nodded, after a few moments, even managing to look up from their hands and
give Gabriel a smile. “I’m sorry your summer was ruined.”
“My summer was great.” Gabriel promised. “And maybe, when you go home, I can
write to you?”
“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”
-
Castiel was pale and nervous when they pulled into the parking garage beneath
Dean’s building. He didn’t bother to turn off the engine, but grabbed his bag
from behind the seat and slipped out the door, letting Gabriel climb into the
driver’s side.
“Will you be okay?” Castiel asked, looking around. The city made him nervous.
There was noise and bustle and bright lights, so different from their quiet
little town. He’d been there before, on his own, to see Dean and stay over a
long weekend, and when he’d come back he’d stood outside for ages, just
breathing. He said he missed fresh air. But he couldn’t have missed it too
much, not when he’d agreed to come back and spend another week with Dean. Maybe
it was a testament to how well they were doing together. The phone bill had
gone through the roof, after all, and only about half of that was due to
Gabriel calling Sam.
“I’ll be fine. Sam’s apartment is like three blocks away. I can drive three
blocks by myself.” Gabriel said, already fastening up his seat belt and putting
the pickup into gear. He’d only turned eighteen two months ago, but Castiel
already thought he looked more grown up. Grown up enough to make his own
decisions.
“Alright. Please be careful.” Castiel said, moving away as Gabriel turned the
truck around and headed back up the slope.
It was a little more than three blocks, but there was hardly much traffic, no
more than home at rush hour. It didn’t take any time at all to get to Sam’s
apartment block, or find his visitor's parking space or pull up. Well, maybe
the maneuvering was a little tricky, but Gabriel had no intention of admitting
to that.
He felt just as nervous as Castiel had looked though, waiting for the elevator
to reach the right floor. Sam was expecting him. They’d talked, they’d even
laughed on the phone, they’d... made up. Still, Gabriel had found himself
waiting for the phone to ring, grabbing it off the hook and being unable to
hide his disappointment when it was for Castiel, or someone calling to order a
different paper in the morning. He just wanted to speak to Sam, but they were
just friends, just chatting.
That wasn’t what Gabriel wanted.
He just hoped that Sam would want something more as well.
The butterflies in his stomach had multiplied by the time he reached Sam’s
door, and he was trying hard to keep himself calm, try to seem cool. That flew
straight out the window when Sam opened the door, and Gabriel lept into his
arms.
He hadn’t planned to kiss Sam, not like this, not hot and hard and needy, not
like he had done back at the cabin in the woods. But that’s what he did. And
Sam kissed him back.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!