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Pretty Sweet

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            Gabriel was currently engaged in padding around the bunker barefoot, poking into all the remote wings and closets like a small dog thoroughly checking out new digs.

            “It’s like Fort Knox with all the amenities,” Gabe enthused, returning from the garage with all its flashy vintage cars. “Liquor… weapons… an honest-to-God dungeon. It’s a hunter’s wet dream! Not to mention I think we could build a pretty sweet blanket fort in the library.”

            “Maybe later,” Sam chuckled, snagging Gabriel’s arm as he passed by and pulling him into a kiss.




            “I couldn’t stop him,” Cas announced by way of greeting the moment Sam and Dean entered the bunker.

            He sat in the chess table nook of the balcony, playing against himself. By the state of the gold pieces set to the side, it looked as if his silver half was winning.

            “Couldn’t stop wh—oh—” Dean pulled up short halfway down the staircase. He blinked several times before letting his face break into a grin. “Sammy, you gotta see this.”

            Sam didn’t much think he needed to see anything that wasn’t a shower. He had human ash in his shoes and ectoplasm in his hair. That pretty well summed up his day.

            Nevertheless, he moved past Dean to see what lay beyond the war room. And froze in his tracks.

            A gently swaying structure—mostly shades of orange—filled the library to its vaulted brim. It had swallowed tables, shelves, and artifacts alike in its dizzying, fuzzy layers. The fact that it appeared to have a second story complete with towers and gables made it particularly difficult to mentally resolve into a blanket fort.

            “What the hell?” Sam breathed, cautiously approaching a flap some five feet high that looked as if it could serve as a doorway. He brushed one blanket aside with his arm.

            “Ah ah ah!” a muffled voice scolded from the depths of the fort. “Hold your horses, bucko. What’s the password?”

            “This is nuts,” Sam muttered to himself, peering down a silk-draped corridor that ducked beneath one swathed reading table before ending in what looked like a rope ladder.

            “That’ll do,” Gabriel called back, his voice now issuing from aloft. Sam glanced up to see the archangel leaning out from one of two precarious quilted towers. “So, tell me, did you boys win today? Cause I put together a pizza party by the ball pit, but I can switch it to consolation ice cream no problem.”

            “Dude, we took out twin vengeful spirits, not the rival school’s Little League team,” Dean protested, joining Sam at the entrance.

            “And we’re very proud of you,” Gabe returned in the same glib fatherly tone as before. “Aren’t we, Cas?”

            “Yes, of course, Sam and Dean have the most difficult—”

            “So!” Gabriel went on without waiting for him to finish. “Find the pizza and enjoy! Finding me, on the other hand, may be a little harder.” And, with that, he popped back amid the blankets with a rustle.

            Shaking his head in rueful amazement, Sam ducked into the fort, forced to shuffle along bent double before resorting to hands and knees entirely. Dean crawled gamely beside him, the kid-like curiosity on his face lit by the muted glow of the library’s lamps filtering through so much orange.

            “You have to admit, this is pretty freakin’ awesome,” his brother commented as they squeezed through an archway made of books and stopped at the foot of the rope ladder. “I mean, he can put it all back with a snap, right?”

            “Yeah,” Sam agreed, the grime and aches of the hunt temporarily forgotten.

            “And I’m pretty sure I do smell garlic and pepperoni somewhere in here.” Dean tested the viability of the ladder, watching it give slightly under his weight. Considering it was anchored to nothing but a floating blanket at the top, it required a certain amount of trust on Dean’s part to venture any further, but he did, scrambling up to the fort’s second level.

            The walls and ceiling lurched dramatically around Sam before Dean let out a half-laughing “Holy shit.”

            “What?” Sam called.

            “It’s just about as solid as you’d expect up here,” Dean chuckled, the wobbling only increasing in intensity as he moved about.

            “Well, I’m gonna find another way,” Sam said, burrowing directly under the wall to his right. “Meet you… somewhere…” he trailed off as he found himself in a lush pillow nest that seemed to extend the whole length of the room. Spangled gold throw pillows mixed with overstuffed pumpkin-colored things the size of beanbag chairs to create a suffocatingly soft obstacle course. Sam army-crawled through it, glancing into each flap or gap he found.

            “Just when I think our lives can’t get any sillier…” he said to no one in particular as he passed by a thick braid of knotted sheets that dangled down from an opening in the ceiling. He turned a corner and stifled a yelp. He’d come face-to-face with Castiel.

            “I didn’t know you were in here,” Sam said, trying not to laugh at the way the angel was hunched low in the tunnel.

            “I’m looking for Dean,” Cas sighed. “I didn’t get a chance to check him for injury yet. I wish you wouldn’t go on hunts without coming back for me first.”

            “Dean’s fine,” Sam reassured him. “A scrape or two. And we just happened to catch wind of this one while we were out.” Though Cas hardly ever uttered a direct word of complaint about his lack of wings and accompanying inability to teleport, it clearly grated on his nerves that he could no longer speed to Dean’s side whenever he wanted. Certainly Gabriel could have given him a lift when they’d called to let the angels know about their detour to Tulsa, but Sam suspected that Gabe had said no. There was still a certain level of disagreement in their ranks concerning how much the humans among them should continue to fight their own fights.

            “I understand,” Cas replied. “Thank you, Sam. But I’d like to find him all the same.” He moved past into the pillow nest, surveying it with a perfectly straight face.

            For his part, Sam doubled back and appraised the braided sheets hanging down from above. Yet another invitation to investigate higher. Figuring the worst that could befall him was embarrassment, Sam took hold of the makeshift rope and hauled himself up hand-over-hand, flopping into the blankets above and finding them disorientingly hammock-like.

            Getting around up here invited a certain ambient level of motion sickness, Sam realized immediately as he squirmed down the reeling tunnel. Closing his eyes helped. He moved forward on his elbows, peeking through half-shaded eyelashes now and then to check his progress.

            “Son of a—!

            A walloping crash followed Dean’s distant outburst, and Sam’s eyes snapped open.

            “You okay?” he yelled.

            “Sounds like he found the trapdoor,” Gabe observed in a sing-song whisper from Sam’s immediate right.

            Sam flinched and scowled over at the archangel now wedged between himself and the blanket wall. “C’mon, Gabe. Be nice for once.”

            “Found the ball pit!” Dean shouted back. “And the pizza! Oh, hey, Cas!”

            “Hear that?” Gabriel scoffed back with mock offense. “Would it kill you to have a little faith in me? All his favorite things: food, Cas, and balls.”

            Sam snorted. “Okay, fine. I’m not complaining, but I do really need to get to the shower.”

            “No you don’t,” Gabe purred, reaching up with one hand to pass it over Sam’s hair. The ectoplasm vanished.


            “No problemo.” Gabe pointedly failed to withdraw his hand, combing his fingers through Sam’s hair in a tingly succession of pets. He brought the other hand over and began braiding a thick section next to Sam’s right ear. “So! Ever had sex in a blanket fort?”

            “No,” Sam groaned, rolling over so Gabriel had to release the half-finished braid. He seized the archangel in a playful headlock. “And I’m not about to.”

            “Aw, lighten up,” Gabe griped.

            “Tell you what,” Sam went on, grappling him even tighter. He rubbed a fist in Gabe’s mess of dark golden hair even as he leaned closer to growl in his ear. “We can fuck all you want if you show me the way out of here.

            “Done,” Gabe quipped immediately. With a snap of his fingers and a waggle of one eyebrow, the wall next to them gave way, fluttering out into empty space before anchoring on the floor to form a perfect slide. Sam peered down it and saw that it led into the dormitory hallway. “After you,” Gabe gallantly offered just before giving Sam a shove that sent him flying down the blanket slide and landing on the concrete floor with a startled oof.

            “Really?” Sam complained, clambering up and woefully rubbing his ass.

            By way of apology, Gabriel only smacked the offended cheek on his way past.

            In their bedroom, Gabe clicked the door shut and spun around. “I missed you,” he said, eyes sparkling with equal parts mischief and sincerity.  

            “We were only gone for three days. And you could’ve popped in any time,” Sam pointed out, sitting on the foot of the bed to yank off his work boots. It felt good to be back. The sprucing-up Gabriel had given his tiny room made it feel like a sunny oasis. He’d accumulated more good memories of it in the last month than he had in the previous two years combined.

            “Hunting is such a downer. And roadside America doesn’t do much for me these days. I’d rather hang here.”

            Sam shrugged. “Have it your way. But you know we’re not gonna stop.” Gabriel had a veritable arsenal of excuses, but Sam privately suspected that he simply felt safe in the bunker and wasn’t ready to leave. His ordeal with Metatron had taken more out of him than he would admit to any of them.

            “I know. You’re stubborn like that. We’ll just have to make up for it in the downtime,” he said, coming to stand between Sam’s splayed knees. Gabe pushed his fingers back into Sam’s mane of loose hair, gripping it just to the good edge of painful as he brought their bodies together. “What’s on the menu today, lover boy?” he hissed, pulling Sam close. “Wanna pay me back for that little slap I gave you in the hall?”

            Sam bit back a grin and wrapped both forearms around Gabe’s waist. “You’d deserve it, but no.” Without warning, he rose to his feet, taking Gabriel with him so the angel was obliged to hike his shorter legs up around Sam’s waist. He crossed the room to a low but generously sized armchair that he kept in the corner and deposited Gabe in its worn wooden curves. Very deliberately, Sam raised one knee and then the other to straddle him.

            All but convulsing with laughter even as he found himself pinned under Sam’s looming weight, Gabriel shook his head in amazement. “You want to sit in my lap, Moose?”

            “So what if I do? It’s not as if you can’t take it,” Sam teased, settling on Gabriel’s thighs and pushing him even further back in his seat. It should have felt ridiculous. His own lean bulk practically eclipsed Gabe in the chair, his chin easily resting atop Gabe’s head. Yet when Sam shifted against Gabe’s hips he found himself, in all seriousness, growing hard in his jeans.

            Gabe gamely pawed at him and pulled his shirt aside to kiss his collarbone, but he was still chuckling. “C’mon now, let’s switch places and get this party started.” He gave Sam a smart, businesslike swat on the arm and made a vain move to get up.

            “Why though?” Sam mused aloud, suddenly reluctant to relinquish the position. “I mean… it’s not like we have to.”

            “What?” Gabe stared up at him, his expression stilling to a sharp focus.

            “It’s just… I know we’ve taken certain things for granted till now,” Sam started, his voice gruff and awkward all at once. “It did seem like a given after that first time. And I like what we’ve got going. Obviously I do. But, y’know, maybe if you wanted to try—”

            “Wait a minute,” Gabriel interrupted, his face spreading into a slow, absolutely diabolical grin. “Wait just one minute. Are you telling me that Sam Fucking Winchester wants to get fucked?”

            Sam rolled his eyes and let out an explosive sigh. “Well not if you’re gonna gloat about it the whole time—”

            “You do!” Gabe crowed, his face a portrait of awe. “Oh, you do! This is priceless. Sam, you have no idea how I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up.”

            Sam glared down at him sidelong now. “Then why didn’t you bring it up? You’re not exactly shy with what you want.”

            “Because it was more important to me that you wanted it. Way more of a turn-on.”

            Fair enough. Sam could understand that.

            “But are you sure? I mean, you’ve never done it before.”

            That was true. Sam had only a smattering of experience in the area. All but one of his somewhat frugal number of previous sexual partners had been women. It had been so easy to go on screwing around and fucking Gabe without giving a thought to the reverse. And yet Sam had been giving it a thought. Mostly in half-asleep imaginings that got him feeling some combination of heated and absurd. On this last hunting trip, he’d even done a bit of personal exploration in the motel shower, testing how he’d felt about a finger or two. Not bad. But not really good either. He had to believe that it would be different with Gabe though. It already felt different.

            “Yeah,” Sam replied, chewing his lower lip and trying to remain nonchalant. “We should try it.”

            Gabriel appraised him for a long moment. “Then get to work with those clothes.”

            What followed was a clumsy, fast-and-dirty stripping as Sam yanked his shirt over his head, unzipped his jeans and stood long enough to step out of them and allow Gabe a second to do the same. Sliding bare-assed back into the archangel’s lap, dicks meeting between them, Sam felt his breath hitch hard in his chest. He moved against Gabe, taking hold of the back of the chair to better ground himself.

            “Mm,” Gabe hummed, pulling away from a faint red hickey that he’d just sucked into the flesh of Sam’s chest. He shimmied down in the chair, bringing his hips further under Sam so that his cock brushed along behind him now, aligning with the cleft in Sam’s cheeks. “So,” he said, voice hoarse. “You wanna cheat?”

            Sam knew what he meant. They couldn’t resist using Gabriel’s powers for evil now and then, skipping the intensive prep usually needed for a comfortable fuck and fast-forwarding straight to the main event. Sometimes time was limited, after all. Sam considered briefly. On the one hand, he felt as if he should earn it the hard way. The real way. On the other hand….

            “No shame in making it easy on yourself the first time,” Gabe ventured, sounding strained. He shifted again, and sucked in sharp breath through his teeth. “And on me.”

            “Okay.” Sam nodded. “Yeah. But not too easy, y’know? I want to feel it.”

            “Gotcha,” Gabe hurried to agree. “Gotcha.” He slipped a firm hand down the small of Sam’s back until he was kneading at the tensed muscles of his ass. Gabe’s hand delved further, fingers spreading low between Sam and his own waiting erection. A curious warmth followed this caress. So non-invasive on the surface, Sam nevertheless felt Gabe’s touches unwinding him from within, making him flutter and throb and ache

            “Oh,” Sam gulped, dropping his forehead into the crook of Gabriel’s neck.

            “That should do it,” Gabe pronounced, giving Sam one last lick of contact with his fingers. Sam jerked involuntarily at the sudden introduction of a glossy, cool wetness that he’d never felt in that particular context before.

            “Wow. You’re good,” Sam admitted shakily. And then, with hardly an intervening thought, he was reaching his right hand back and cupping Gabe’s cock flush against himself, tilting forward until he could bring it into place. The first press against his rim felt so slick, straightforward, and painless that he didn’t even take a breath before rolling his body down in Gabriel’s lap, taking his full length almost at once as though he’d done it a hundred times—

            “God, Sam,” Gabe gasped, grabbing his sides with tight, sweat-glazed palms.

            The true impact hit Sam a second later, a wave of dull hurt and shock flooding in along with his arousal. Gabe may not have been as generously endowed as Sam himself, but it was still an entire dick more than he’d ever had in his ass before.

            “You okay?” Gabe managed. He licked his lips, bright brown eyes wide and fixed on Sam.

            “Y-yeah,” Sam stammered, shifting his legs a little wider and trying to adapt to the oddly delicious tenderness of it all.

            “You said you wanted to feel it.”

            “I know.”  

            Gabriel curled an arm around to spread a hand right across the sensitive, open curve where Sam stretched across the base of his cock. Sam thought he might be attempting some adjustment, but it seemed Gabe only wanted to take in the full reality of being inside him. He palmed over the spot slowly, without thrusting or moving at all, and his eyes grew hooded and fogged with a dark adoration.

            “You are so amazing,” he said, voice suddenly soft and depthless. “Absolutely amazing.”

            “Shut up,” Sam snorted, tilting Gabe’s head over the back of the chair and kissing him hard. He rocked back and forth carefully, taking more and less of Gabe by only an inch or so each time until it began to feel downright leisurely. Then he ramped it into overdrive.

            “Oh, holy fuck,” Gabriel choked, practically coming to pieces under Sam’s relentless rhythm. The chair stuttered and skidded under the force of movement, its legs shrieking against the bare floor.

            Sam slammed an open hand against the wall to hold it steady. He rode Gabriel with a vengeance, ignoring the pain of his knees wedged in the chair and frankly everything that wasn’t Gabe’s increasingly filthy moans.

            Gabe’s cheeks were flushed and blotchy, his eyes bleary with bliss. He wrapped a hand around Sam’s cock, his fingers dancing deftly over it in a series of loose, coaxing tugs. The overload of sensations had Sam gasping and spilling a thick tracery of come across Gabriel’s stomach within a minute, his vision blacking out at the edges. If Gabe said anything in the grip of his own climax, Sam didn’t hear it, too lost to notice anything but the shudder that passed through Gabe’s limbs and the sudden spread of warmth between them.

            “Sam, Sam, Sam,” he murmured seemingly to himself, his face shiny with exertion and satisfaction. Gabe had melted into the chair beneath him, eyes batting closed for a moment. “That was… that was something.”

            “You’re telling me.” Sam winced as he levered himself free of Gabe’s lap. He took two steps before his need to be horizontal hit him like a ton of bricks. He threw himself backward onto the bed, feet hanging off the edge and his arm thrown over his eyes against the light. Gabriel followed almost silently, the bed dipping briefly under his weight as he came to lie against Sam’s side.

            “Just how often can I count on that happening?” he asked.

            “Not sure,” Sam returned truthfully. “Probably more often if you’d see fit to visit us on the road.” He didn’t mean it as a bribe. Just a reality. The skeevy motel rooms felt colder than ever knowing that someone could be by his side. And he hadn’t yet gotten over Gabriel’s previous penchant for disappearing on him. Every time he and Dean rolled up to the bunker’s door, Sam had to stifle a pinching suspicion that Gabriel wouldn’t be there.

            “Soon,” Gabe promised quietly.

            “Thank you.”

            Against his better judgment, Sam was just drifting toward a sated, dreamless nap when Gabe sniffed and sat up with a little clap of his hands. “So, think I should let Dean and Cas out of the ball pit yet?”