Archive of Our Own

It was past midnight when Gabriel had decided to give up and go to bed. He wasn’t tired. Angels didn’t exactly get tired , but he was more or less done with being upright and pretending to be a valuable member of the Winchester Brain Trust. A case was brewing up in Oregon, but Gabriel could only sit there and listen to Dean and Sam list off victims and casualties for so long before his eyes glazed over. He was never meant to be a hunter. The research part of it bored him to tears. Gabriel liked the jumping in bit, the killing monsters, but all of the lead up and investigation beforehand was better left to those with the attention span for it. So he went to bed.

Sam’s room in the Men of Letters bunker hadn’t changed much. Gabriel had moved in there full time some months back, but he didn’t want to completely rearrange it. Sam liked things the way he liked them, and while Gabriel had tweaked a few things to lessen the prison cell chic he mostly left things alone. The bed was bigger, though, and softer and sturdier. Long gone was the ancient box spring that squealed almost as loudly as Sam did when Gabriel fucked him, and it had been replaced with a firm mattress that could both keep up with and muffle their more amorous activities. There was also a rug to somewhat keep the cold of the concrete floor at bay. Sam hadn’t said much when Gabriel had snapped it into being, but in the dead of a Kansas winter when the rooms were already ice cold…he could tell Sam appreciated it. It also gave just a bit of color, dark green as it was, to the still drab space. At least now it didn’t feel like a one to one comparison to the cell he’d almost rotted in when Asmodeus didn’t have him out on a leash. 

Gabriel stripped out of his clothes, left them in a pile on the floor on his side of the bed, and flopped backward onto the mattress. The blankets felt soft against the bare skin of his back, and he sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. Both lamps were on, nestled on nightstands on either side of the headboard, and they cast a warm glow that was just enough to make the space feel homey. He’d gotten comfortable in the bunker. Home was a relative term to him, since Gabriel hadn’t really had one since he’d stepped out from Heaven, but this place was the closest thing. Specifically, this room was the closest thing. Sam’s room. His room. His and Sam’s room. Their shared space. Sam had invited him into it, and Gabriel had moved in without a second thought. Now he couldn’t imagine living any other way.

He closed his eyes. 

Lying there like that made it easy for Gabriel’s mind to wander. It was quiet. A pin could have dropped down the hall, and Gabriel was sure that he could probably hear it. The silence almost made his ears ring, but it was in an almost comforting way. Memories, like ghosts, floated in and out of his consciousness. There had been so many long nights spent in that very bed, warm and comfortable, and Gabriel sighed softly as fragmented pieces flashed behind his eyes. He saw hands clasped together, lips on skin, and arms tightened around content and tired chests. Sometimes it was his own. Sometimes it was Sam’s. Either way, those were his favorite memories to get lost in. 

Gabriel shifted on the bed, moved so he was actually lying down with his head on a pillow as opposed to being half flopped over the edge, and tucked a hand up under his head. He kept his eyes closed. He liked this feeling. He liked the warmth that came from just lying there and enjoying a private moment. Sometimes the memories that flashed behind his eyes made his blood warm, but for the most part it was less about sex and more just enjoying the remembered closeness that he and Sam often shared. He drifted in it. The rest of the world was gone, and Gabriel was content to just lie there and quietly be happy. These were the kinds of moments that, up until the last few months, he’d sworn were never meant for him. For the first time since he’d been created, since he’d left Heaven, he had a safe place to be and happiness to reflect on. 

He had no idea how long he lay there and drifted. It hadn’t been terribly late when he’d gone off to bed, and he expected that the others would be awake long after he pulled the bedroom door shut. That was usually how that worked. They would stay up late, planning and scheming, and eventually Sam would come to bed and pass out beside him. That was, unless it got too late and Gabriel had to drag him to bed himself. That happened a few times. Too much coffee and too much research were the only things that kept Sam from him at night, and when Gabriel would come down and give him a pointed look Sam would just sigh and dutifully close his laptop. Hopefully that wouldn’t happen tonight. 

Eventually the door did open. Gabriel stayed where he was, stretched out across the bed, and kept his eyes closed. He was so familiar with the way Sam sounded now. He could pick out the way the man kicked off his boots, got out of his clothes, and brushed his teeth without ever having to look up. He knew the sound of Sam’s breathing. He knew the routine way he walked around the room as he got ready for bed, and when the mattress finally dipped beside him Gabriel smiled.

A hand slid across his sternum and curled just under his ribs. Warmth in the form of a strong torso pressed against Gabriel’s side as Sam slid into bed and curled around him. He felt Sam sigh, and Gabriel turned his head to press his lips against the top of his head as they settled together. Neither of them said anything, but Gabriel could feel that they were both happy to be done for the day. Again, not tired. Just happy to be horizontal and alone in their room. It didn’t feel terribly late, or like much time at all had passed since Gabriel had gone to bed, so he could only imagine that Sam had made some excuse to join him. He liked that. He liked that Sam cared enough about him, about them both, to make time for this.

He felt lips against his neck. The smile on Gabriel’s face grew as Sam nuzzled his face against Gabriel’s throat and kissed him sweetly. And it was sweet. He loved the feeling of Sam’s mouth on him, the gentle scratch of his day two scruff, and the warmth of Sam’s breath on his skin. He loved the way Sam would kiss him, bite gently, and lap his tongue to soothe any ache he caused. Not that it ever hurt. Not really. Gabriel knew well that Sam would never harm him, and any pain he caused was meant to be more of a tease than anything. Sam Winchester was a tease, and Gabriel would never get tired of telling him so, either. He knew exactly what he was doing every time he did it, and Gabriel wouldn’t have it any other way.

The hand that rested just under his ribs moved, ran along his side, and then back up to rest on his chest. Sam’s hands were always warm. Big and warm. His palm and fingers spanned outward, took up almost all of the real estate of Gabriel’s chest, and pressed just hard enough for Gabriel to feel it. It was a clear, unspoken request: don’t move . Gabriel could do that. Why would he want to? Sam was kissing his neck, curled up and deliciously naked next to him, and keeping him still. It was exactly where he wanted to be.

The kisses at his neck turned to bites, and Gabriel shivered. Sam was up to something. Gabriel wasn’t sure what, exactly, but it was obvious that Sam had plans. He tipped his head to the side, let Sam have as much of his throat as he wanted, and let out a long and contented sigh of his own. There really was nothing better than this. If Gabriel were honest with himself, the one thing that had really and truly made him happy since he’d finally agreed to join the Winchester’s band of merry men was that he and Sam didn’t have to sneak around anymore. They’d spent years, actual human years, playing like they had no real interest in each other while anyone else was around. Then they’d find the nearest private space and fuck each other’s brains out. Hell, they’d even pretended to each other that it wasn’t anything serious. At one point maybe it wasn’t serious. A long time ago. Now? Now he was so happy to be able to just enjoy the feeling of Sam kissing and touching him whenever they fucking wanted.

Sam’s hand moved again. It slid lower, down Gabriel’s chest and to his stomach, and gentle finger tips traced every rib and muscle on the way down. The touch was feather light, another tease, but it felt good. He knew he was softer around the middle than most, but Sam had never seemed to have a problem with that. If anything, Sam seemed to enjoy it. Sam’s body could have been sculpted out of marble for how strong and fit it was, but he seemed to enjoy the fact that Gabriel was softer. Gabriel enjoyed that he was softer, too. The skin of his vessel was sensitive, especially where Sam’s fingers played just under his navel, and it made little arcs of lightning go up and down his spine. Gabriel loved the way Sam touched him. He loved the way it made him feel precious. Wanted. Desired.

His cock had taken an interest in the way Sam touched him too. Gabriel wasn’t hard, not yet, but those kisses and bites and the way Sam’s fingers trailed over him had definitely woken him up from his half catnap from before. Sam sucked at his pulse, and that big, warm hand ghosted lower to run over his swelling cock. The touch made him sigh, and he finally turned his head so he could brush his nose against Sam’s in a bid for a kiss. 

“Feeling frisky, are we?” Gabriel teased, and was rewarded with Sam’s hand wrapping around him.

“Can’t help it,” Sam rumbled against his ear, “wasn’t expecting to see you splayed out all naked like that.”

“Remind me to do it all the time, then.”

Sam stroked him slowly. His grip wasn’t terribly tight, but it was enough to make Gabriel squirm. All those years of hunting: holding guns and knives and digging out graves, they’d made Sam’s hands a little rough and a lot strong. It was the perfect mix, really, and Gabriel could feel heat starting to pool low in his abdomen as Sam touched him. He hadn’t expected the night to go this way, but he wasn’t complaining. Any excuse for sex was the best excuse, as far as he was concerned, and any excuse to have Sam’s hands and mouth on him was one he was willing to entertain for as long as it took for them both to enjoy themselves. It felt good, amazing, Gabriel rolled his hips as best his could to help find a rhythm as Sam’s hand moved.

A sharp bite against his throat stopped him, though, and Gabriel let out a soft gasp. Like the hand on him before, he knew that unsaid command. Don’t move . Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing ever, either. A soft whine bubbled up from Gabriel’s throat, but he tried to force himself to be still. Sam’s hand was moving in slow, deliberate strokes, and it made Gabriel’s eyes roll back in his head as he tangled his hands in the blankets under them. That heat was spreading through him now, dumped into his blood, and all he wanted was to buck his hips and fuck Sam’s fist. He knew he shouldn’t, that he should behave the way that Sam wanted him to, but it felt entirely too good. He wanted more. So much more.

“Sam,” Gabriel whined, and opened his eyes to cut a look to his left.

He watched as Sam lifted his head from where he’d been kissing at Gabriel’s neck. Sam was smiling. He was so beautiful when he smiled. He looked happy and relaxed, his now much longer hair falling across his forehead and curling at his cheeks, and it made something in Gabriel’s stomach do a flip. He loved seeing Sam happy. More than that, he loved knowing that Sam was happy because of him . Granted, he hadn’t done anything to warrant it. He’d just been there, as he always was, but somehow that was enough. That was enough to make Sam smile and want to kiss him and touch him. How had they fucking gotten to this point? How had they gone from almost angrily ripping each others’ clothes off in storage closets and bathroom stalls to happily sliding into their shared bed and fooling around with long hours ahead of them? The change had been gradual, fraught with near-death and pain, but so fucking worth it.

“Roll over,” Sam said softly, and then lips were on his.

Sam kissed him soundly. It wasn’t sharp or hungry, but matter of fact. It was the kind of kiss that said that Sam was the one in control. Gabriel was just along for the ride. He was happy about it, too. They’d been doing this long enough, in as many ways as there were stars in the sky, that they almost had their own language. Most of the time it didn’t even require words. It was a kiss or a touch, a whimper or a sigh, and the other immediately knew what it meant. It was desire and fulfillment without ever having to say anything out loud. They just knew, and right now Sam was telling him that he had plans. He always had plans. 

Gabriel sighed into that kiss as Sam’s hand slowed. He wanted more of that touch, more of Sam’s hand on his cock, but it seemed like that wasn’t part of the plan. Not right now, anyway. So he did as he was told and rolled onto his stomach. The blanket felt nice against his skin, soft and warm, and Gabriel folded his arms under his cheek as he turned to look over his shoulder at Sam. He took in the way Sam was half leaned up on his elbow, hazel eyes focused on Gabriel, and a fond look on his face. Gabriel was being studied, but it was clear that Sam enjoyed what exactly it was that he was seeing. That look warmed him from the inside, from deep inside his ribs, and Gabriel let out a soft breath as he relaxed into the bed and drank it in.

A hand touched his back. It trailed from the back of his neck down his spine, and paused only to play between his shoulder blades. It wasn’t a massage, not really, but Gabriel could feel the solid pressure against his skin as Sam traced the bones and muscle. It left streaks of heat through him, left over from warm fingers, and Gabriel’s eyes slid closed as the touch moved lower and lower. They knew each other well enough by now that there was no real need for Sam to do that. He knew Gabriel’s body, but that never stopped him from sometimes taking the time to map it with his hands like he was learning it for the first time. It was achingly sweet. Calming. It was calming in the way that it proved that Sam just wanted to touch him. Like he needed it somehow. Gabriel loved it.

He felt Sam move, and then there were lips and soft, wet kisses moving along his spine as well. Weight was suddenly on top of the backs of his thighs, Sam’s weight, and Gabriel smiled to himself as he now had two hands and an eager mouth on him. It was almost like too much sensation. No touch was more pronounced than the others, and Gabriel had to fully let his mind empty in order to take it in. He couldn’t focus on just one thing. If he thought too hard about Sam’s lips at the back of his neck, then he missed out on the way strong hands moved across his lower back and pressed hard into his hips. It was easier to take it all in as one expansive touch. And it was expansive. Somehow Sam touched him everywhere, inside and out, and it sent little tingles down from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. 

Now he was pinned to the bed, not that he had any intention of moving, and trapped under the six foot something Winchester who was taking all the time in the world to kiss and touch him in all the ways that made Gabriel sigh and practically purr. 

“Feels nice,” Gabriel mumbled into the crook of his elbow, and he felt the rumble of a laugh as Sam’s mouth moved lower down his back.

This was the complete opposite to how it had been at first. Way back when, when the only time they had together were stolen moments, they could never take the time for something like this. Gabriel had convinced himself that he didn’t need it. That he didn’t need the feeling of Sam touching him so tenderly. He was fine with just sex. He was content with the rough and needy fucking that they did whenever they could find a second alone. It had been fine. But that had been the problem. It had been great, the sex had been amazing, but it left him feeling just…fine. Okay. Never more than that. Like that was all it would ever be. He’d never tried to find more in the spaces between, and had never wanted to look more deeply into it, because it had been fine . Then, slowly, it became more than that and suddenly fine hadn’t been enough. For either of them, it seemed. 

Sam paused at Gabriel’s lower back, at his waist, and he could feel a gentle fingertip brushing just over his left hip. Warm breath moved over his skin, just out of sync with the way he was touched, and he knew Sam was smiling. He could feel it both in the way Sam breathed and in the air of the room around them. 

“This is my favorite,” Sam said softly, and pressed his lips into that spot.

Once upon a time, many epochs and a few personalities ago, Gabriel’s vessel had been made by the hands of a pagan god. It was meant to be a perfect replica, scars and imperfections included, of a body that had already been ravaged by time and warfare. Loki wasn’t a god in the way that Gabriel’s Father was a God, and his form wasn’t perfect. It never had been. It was why there was a small cluster of freckles right where Sam’s lips rested. It was an imperfection, and Sam had latched onto that from almost the first time they’d been together.

“I know,” Gabriel said.

Sam kissed him again, and Gabriel buried his face in his arms. That heat from before, when Sam touched him, had ebbed just a little. It evolved from the spark of lust to the lazy heat of comfort and affection. Whatever Sam was planning had effectively turned Gabriel into putty under him, and he was content to just lie there and let Sam touch him however he wanted. It fully relaxed him, and Gabriel just chuckled to himself as he felt two large hands grab at his ass. Sam did love to cop a feel whenever he could, fucking tease that he was, and long fingers dug into the muscle as warm lips kept moving lower. 

That smile never left Gabriel’s face, and as Sam’s fingers dug into the meat of his ass he couldn’t help the little burst of both joy and anticipation that bloomed in him. In all of this, there was enjoyment that radiated outward from them both. Gabriel and Sam were happy. They were happy to be together, to touch each other, and to take these long moments to do as they pleased. It made Gabriel kind of giddy, actually. In all his long years, in his whole life, he’d never enjoyed sex the way he did with Sam. He’d had great sex, sure, but the warmth that came along with their time together was singular to their relationship alone. Gabriel had never enjoyed himself, completely, like he did with Sam. He’d never smiled his way through sex like he did now. He never let that happiness wrap around him. Now he did, and it was fucking wonderful.

“I think I know what else is your favorite,” he teased as he lifted his head slightly. 

Sam’s hands were still grabbing at him, but he’d stopped where he was practically bent in half over Gabriel’s ass. Their eyes met, and Gabriel winked. Sam, like always, rolled his eyes, but his expression was still warm. That was how they operated. It was fun. Even when it was intense and deep and meaningful, it was still fun. That was the important thing, Gabriel had realized a while ago, that they both had fun and enjoyed themselves completely.

In what was absolutely a bid to shut him up, Gabriel knew it, Sam’s hands pulled his ass cheeks apart and he tucked his chin to suck a kiss at Gabriel’s tailbone. It made him jolt, and he dropped his head back onto his arms as Sam’s tongue licked at him. Fuck, it felt so good. That heat from before came roaring back, and Gabriel screwed his eyes shut as warm breath puffed over his hole. Just that brief second of anticipation practically had him shaking, and when Sam’s tongue finally touched him he let out a low groan. It was hot and wet and filthy, but sent sparks along his spine. Sam’s tongue was relentless, prodding and lapping at him, and Gabriel felt every muscle tighten as his focus moved immediately to the feeling of it. 

Sam made a soft sound. His grip tightened, and he pressed his face in closer as his tongue worked at Gabriel’s hole in tight circles. It pressed hard against him, worked inside the twitching muscle, and slid in and out in time with the soft grunts and groans that bubbled up from Gabriel’s chest. It was a tease like nothing else. Sam’s fingers or cock were stiff and unyielding, but his tongue was wet and lithe inside of him. It was maddening. It was too much and not nearly enough. He felt completely taken, but it wasn’t hard or deep enough to give him the relief that he was starting to so desperately need.

The way Sam held him down, hands firmly planted on his ass as his tongue worked him from the inside, didn’t help. Gabriel was pinned fully, and the weight of that grip kept him from being able to buck against the bed. His cock was hard again, aching with every thrust of Sam’s tongue into him, and he wanted nothing more than to rut against the mattress. Heat pooled low inside of him, leaked into his blood like molten honey, and Gabriel’s hands grabbed at the blanket as he tried in vain to buck his hips backward. He couldn’t. Sam had him right where he wanted him, trapped in the onslaught of pleasure, and there was no moving unless either Sam wanted him to or he used a bit more of his intrinsic strength. It was so damn frustrating in the best way, and Gabriel moaned Sam’s name into the bed as his tongue pushed inside of him again.

He lost time. That wasn’t unusual, but Gabriel’s thoughts had slowed to nothing beyond the feeling of Sam eating him out like a starving man. That also wasn’t unusual. Sam loved having his mouth on Gabriel, no matter the parts he was sporting at the moment, and always took his fucking sweet time in making his enjoyment known. It turned Gabriel’s brain to mush and his body into a trembling mess every time. His cock ached. He wanted to come so fucking badly, but every time he tried to move there was yet another wordless command of stop . Sam was enjoying taking him apart, and Gabriel could only lie there and let him.

 “Christ,” he whimpered into his still folded arms, “please. You’re killing me.”

Sam didn’t respond, not in words at least, and instead thrust his tongue in hard. Gabriel jerked, his cock leaking into the already messy blanket under him, and squeezed his eyes shut. He needed more. He needed Sam’s fingers inside of him, filling him up, and touching him with more intent to make him come than his tongue could. He needed Sam’s cock. He needed to feel it push inside him and stretch him wide until they were completely joined together. He needed something, anything, more than the mind numbing tease he was currently getting. Gabriel swore. Any and every language filled his addled mind, but there were no words in any human tongue or celestial language that could adequately express just how insane he was being driven. 

Finally Sam pulled back. Gabriel was trembling, twitching and writhing as best he could, and he whined as he was given just a bit of freedom to move. At first he tried to buck his hips forward, needing to grind his cock against the bed to get the friction he so desperately wanted, but Sam’s hands moved from his ass to his hips and pulled them up and back. It was cruel. It was cruel, but it was so fucking hot that Sam knew exactly what he wanted but wouldn’t let him have it. If he wasn’t already rock hard, he would have been just at the thought. 

Gabriel’s thighs were shaking. By then he was glad that Sam had a hold of him, or he might have been worried that his legs would give out. Every nerve was on fire, and the knowledge that he was finally going to get what he wanted weighed heavily on him. He really hadn’t thought that tonight was going to go this way. When he’d flopped down on the bed he imagined Sam curling up around him and them both drifting off to sleep in that same soft and comfortable way they always did. To be on his hands and knees, trembling and begging for Sam to put his cock in him, was a definite curveball. An amazing one, to be sure, but still a curveball. 

“Fuck me,” Gabriel begged softly, “please, Sam, I need it.”

“Shh,” Sam soothed, and one hand that was on his hip moved to rest on Gabriel’s back, “give me a second.”

“You tease me for that long and now you want a second?” he whined.

Gabriel could hear just the softest snort at that, and he tried to fix his face in an approximation of a glare as he lifted his head and looked over his shoulder. Their eyes met, and Gabriel tried his hardest to give Sam a disapproving look. It clearly didn’t work, though, and Sam just smiled as he sat up on his knees as rubbed that hand on Gabriel’s back in slow circles. It felt good. It soothed some of the desperation in him, but that wasn’t what he wanted at that moment. What he wanted was for Sam to fuck him. Hard. He wanted to be taken fully and completely until the only thing left in him was Sam’s name and his cock filling him up. But it seemed Sam was still enjoying himself. His plan had been to make Gabriel into a whimpering, needy mess. And he’d gotten that. Damn him.

“You want me to come the second I’m in you?” Sam asked, almost casually, and pulled Gabriel backward by the hip until his cock rubbed up against Gabriel’s hole.

Sam was hard. Maybe he was harder than Gabriel was at that moment. His cock was hot and wet already, and briefly Gabriel had to wonder how the fuck he was managing to control himself. Had their positions been swapped, Gabriel would have already been buried in him and lost in how good it felt. He shivered, teeth catching his lower lip as Sam slowly rolled his hips, and shook his head no.

“Then give me a second,” Sam repeated, and bent down to kiss between Gabriel’s shoulder blades. 

It was killing him. Plain and simple. They were so close, and he was so close to having that he wanted, but Sam wasn’t budging. Not yet. Not enough that Gabriel could move and be the one to sink down on his cock so that it could finally be inside him the way he needed it. And fuck, he needed it. He needed Sam inside him. He needed to feel him, feel the warmth of him, until it completely took him over. He needed to feel Sam wrapped around his body, holding him close, until they were like being. Gabriel needed Sam like he’d never needed anyone or anything else, and it made him ache even more as the seconds ticked by. 

Slowly, maddeningly slowly, Sam pushed inside of him. Gabriel was wet and loose from Sam’s tongue, and his body yielded perfectly to the cock that was steadily pressing into him. A long, low groan fell from his lips, and he felt Sam drop just a bit until his chest rested against Gabriel's back. The hand on his hip was still keeping him upright, thankfully, but the weight was welcome. Gabriel loved the way that Sam draped himself over him, covered him up with the warmth of his skin, and anchored him in reality. Without it, Gabriel was sure he might completely float away in just how good it all felt.

“Fuck,” he heard Sam whisper, and it was Gabriel’s turn to let out a soft laugh. 

Steadily, Sam pushed his cock into him. By all accounts, Sam Winchester was a large man. He was tall. He was well muscled. Hell, even his fingers were long and thick in ways that made Gabriel squirm when he thought too hard about them. He was also…proportional. To be crude about it, Sam had a huge dick. He knew it, and Gabriel knew it. He also knew how to use it, and every time Sam fucked him Gabriel was reminded of just how fucking blessed he was. It was enough to have him shaking, his own orgasm threatening to break just by having Sam rub up against his prostate, and he fisted his hands in the blanket again as he tried to calm himself down. Not that he could. There was no way that he could when he finally had Sam inside him the way he’d been begging for.

When he was fully hilted, hips pressed snugly against Gabriel’s ass, Sam let out a sigh. He nuzzled his face against Gabriel’s spine, the two day scruff tickling already sensitive nerves, and mouthed at whatever skin was closest to his lips. Gabriel let out a shaking breath and unclenched one fist so that he could reach behind him and cover the hand that was still resting on his hip. Sam threaded their fingers together, and leaned up just enough so that his forehead was pressed between Gabriel’s shoulders. They were both breathing hard, both already on the knife’s edge of coming well before they were ready, and just taking that moment to enjoy the feeling of each other so close.

Gabriel was lost in the haze of it. He was moving back and forth across the line of it all being way too much and not nearly enough. He wanted Sam to fuck him, to pound into him until he screamed, but he also just wanted this. He wanted to feel Sam nestled so deeply inside of him. He wanted to feel like there was no part of him that Sam couldn’t touch. He wanted both. He wanted to feel Sam wrapped around his true form that was encased in his vessel while still having his brains fucked out of his head. And he could have it, he was sure, somehow. There was always a way.

Sam’s hips moved. They canted backward and thrust in hard, and Gabriel grunted sharply. His mouth fell open as Sam moved inside of him, and all ability to speak or think completely left him. Sam knew him entirely too well. He knew all the ways that Gabriel needed him, needed to be fucked, and he pulled out every fucking trick in the book. So to speak. Soon, all Gabriel could do was moan as Sam found his prostate and nailed it with every thrust. It was perfect. It was rough and hard, and but Sam’s lips pressed kisses against his back as he fucked him. He whispered in Gabriel’s ear, murmured words of praise at how good he felt and how beautiful he was when he was speared on Sam’s cock like he was. He was Sam’s perfect angel . He was Sam’s . His. Only his. Over and over again until Gabriel was practically sobbing and begging both to come and for it to never end.

They’d never bothered to try and soundproof the room. The bunker itself was a brutalist nightmare of concrete walls and floors, and their voices bounced back and forth until the air around them was filled with the sounds of fucking. Gabriel couldn’t keep quiet, that much was true, and he hardly cared if anyone outside the door could hear him. He was one raw nerve. He was alight with pleasure and burning up with the heat that built inside of him. The only word his voice could make was Sam’s name, and he cried out over and over as Sam’s cock thrust into him. It was perfect. It was everything he could ever want and then some. He wanted to come, to let Sam fuck him through his orgasm as it washed him away, but then it would be over. Gabriel didn’t want that. He needed this for as long as he could hold out, and he tried his fucking best to keep ahold of himself as Sam’s hips slammed against his ass.

“So good,” Sam groaned against his shoulder, and bit down hard at Gabriel’s shoulder blade, “you’re so fucking good. Need you just like this. Just like this .”

His hips punctuated those last three words with sharp thrusts, and Gabriel moaned. His skin felt hot, as hot as Sam’s, and he knew he wasn’t going to be able to last much longer. He squeezed Sam’s hand hard where it was still at his hips, and Sam squeezed back once before he let go. Gabriel panted, eyes rolling back in his head, and when Sam’s hand moved to wrap around his cock his whole body spasmed. He couldn’t take it. It was too much. Too fucking wonderful. His legs shook as Sam stroked him, and he arched his back hard as he came over Sam’s fist.

“Yes, fuck, Sam ,” he sobbed, “just like that. Don’t fucking stop.”

Sam didn’t. He fucked Gabriel hard through his orgasm, through the aftershocks, and even harder as he chased his own. That was when it really should have been too much, but somehow it wasn’t. It would never be too much. If anything, it wasn’t enough. It was never enough to have Sam inside him, coming deep inside his vessel as he moaned Gabriel’s name against his spine, and buried so deeply there was no way of knowing where one of them began and the other ended. Gabriel’s cock twitched, a desperate bid to get hard and come again as Sam spilled himself, and he let out a whimper as Sam’s teeth found his shoulder blade again. 

Neither of them moved for a long moment. Gabriel’s legs were threatening to give out completely, and Sam’s weight against his back only made them shake harder. He couldn’t breathe. It felt like he was trying to pull pudding into his lungs. And yet. His body ached and was so pleasantly warm and tired. Exhausted. Thoroughly fucked. Sated. Gabriel could feel Sam’s chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, and it really was the arm wrapped around him that kept them from collapsing onto the mattress. 

“Never want anyone but you,” Sam murmured, and Gabriel could hear him swallow hard, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Gabriel repeated just as breathlessly, and lifted his head to try and look over his shoulder. 

Once the two of them could remember how to breathe, they did eventually fall onto the bed. Sam curled his arms around Gabriel’s torso and pulled him against his chest so he could bury his face in Gabriel’s hair. They were both shaking from the exertion. Sam was hot and sweaty, practically burning, but it was a comforting heat against Gabriel’s back. They lay together in the relative silence of the room, the only sound being their breathing echoing off the empty walls, and Gabriel closed his eyes as he relaxed into Sam’s hold on him. Maybe this was what he liked best. This feeling. The way Sam held him so tightly. Like he never wanted to let go. 

Gabriel imagined the heat coming off of Sam’s skin sinking into him. It warmed his bones and soothed the way his grace spooled and unspooled deep inside of him. He knew it was reaching for Sam’s soul. It always did. His true form so often cried out for Sam, for that part of him that only an angel could touch, and that heat was the closest thing that he could ever get to it. Gabriel wanted more than that. He wanted to wrap Sam up in his celestial grace, wanted to have Sam at the core of his being, and he wanted to wind himself in and around all of Sam’s body and soul so that he was wrapped up just as much inside of him as he was outside. 

He loved him so much. In truth, Gabriel had never thought that he could love anyone or anything as much as he loved Sam Winchester. He was a being made of love, if that shitty book the humans had written about his Father and his family was to be believed, but it wasn’t until Sam that maybe he’d started to believe it. All the love he’d ever felt: his Father, his brothers, Loki, even the human race as a whole; all of it paled in comparison to the way that Sam made him feel. It was like he could never love him enough . It was as though there was too much inside him, and no outlet for it. Too much, and not ever enough.

That was always the way.

Gabriel rolled over, sighed as he felt Sam’s soft cock slip from where it was still buried inside of him, and snuggled against Sam’s chest. He could feel the way Sam’s heart was still beating hard. It pounded in his ribs like it threatened to break them, and Gabriel rested a hand on Sam’s chest in the hopes that it might soothe him a bit. Sam smiled, eyes closed, and he lifted his chin to kiss Gabriel’s forehead. They were pressed together, completely intertwined, and that warmth settled in and around them both. It was comfortable and comforting. It was their own, private universe where they were the only occupants. Nothing could reach them there. Nothing could pull them apart, hurt them, or make them give this up. Now or ever. 

“I love you so much,” Gabriel whispered, “so, so much.”

“More than anything,” Sam affirmed, and opened his eyes so that they were looking at each other.

Over the last few years, over the decade that they’d known each other, there had never been any grand gestures of love and affection. The ones they’d shared had come naturally, over time, and organically changed them both into what they were now. It was slow. It was purposeful. It was the joining of two lives together in ways that were oftentimes messy and complicated, but somehow easy too. There was never a second thought when they moved to another level. Their admissions of love had been quiet and gentle, said in the same kind of comfortable closeness that they were currently sharing, and had stayed that way since. They’d never done anything more than that because it had never felt like it was necessary to. They were both content, happy to share space and time, and along the way they had become…well, this .

At that moment, though, Gabriel felt that maybe it wasn’t quite enough. Somehow. 

Something pulled at him. Something white hot and harsh. He could see himself in Sam’s eyes. He could see the warmth and love that was there, but it briefly tugged at something that had been slowly unraveling inside him since their relationship began. It wasn’t anything bad, not really, but it was knowledge that had come screeching into his being once the Apocalypse and its major players had finally been introduced. Once upon a time, way further back than even his time with Loki, a plan had been set in place. It was the end of the world, of his Father’s creation, and Sam Winchester had always meant to be a part of it. He’d been made for the Angels, for the Archangels, and Gabriel had known him well before Sam and Dean had come stumbling up to that college campus years ago. Except he’d never had the full story. 

That came later. 

That came on the heels of stuffing the Winchesters inside bad tv shows and pretending to die at Lucifer’s hand. It came once he’d said the words ‘play your roles.’ It came when the earth had opened up, and the Cage threatened to swallow Sam whole. It came in an instant, one that was meant to be after the war had started, and Gabriel had spent every last moment since trying to parse through it. All of their time together, all of the love that had grown between them, was just a piece of that puzzle. It was a footnote in a story that he wasn’t meant to still be a part of. Not like this, anyway. And it was in those moments, once the curtain had been pulled back, that Gabriel wondered why .

“Sam,” he said, and lifted a hand to cup a scruffy cheek.

The look he got was a loving one. Why wouldn’t it be? They’d just had some fucking mind blowing sex, and were currently wrapped up in each other’s arms. Of course the look Sam gave him was loving. It was always loving. It was always loving because Sam loved him. Sam loved him, and Gabriel couldn’t imagine loving anyone more than he loved Sam Winchester back. He loved him because he’d always loved him. He loved him because he was always meant to love him.

He took a breath as Sam turned his head just slightly and kissed his palm. It was a tender gesture, one that Gabriel was intimately familiar with, and he felt it radiate from his hand and up along his arm until it touched where his heart beat in his chest. It almost hurt. No, not almost. It did hurt. It ached. It ached in its sweetness. It ached in its simplicity. It ached because Gabriel could feel it inside of him in a way that he so wished that he could feel something else.

Sam Winchester had been written inside of Gabriel’s being since the Beginning. He’d always been there, waiting, and for as hard as Gabriel tried to run away from it all…he never really could. Not truly. He could pretend, sure, and after a few millennia of doing so he’d thought that maybe he’d finally escaped his own purpose, but that all came back the moment he laid eyes on Sam in that professor’s office. Everything came back. His Father, his life before, and the feeling inside of him that he wasn’t complete until his father’s favorite plaything was by his side. It hurt then in a completely opposite way to how it hurt now. It hurt then because he hadn’t wanted it. Now it hurt because he did. 

Sam had been made for Lucifer. That much was common knowledge by pretty much everyone by now. Sam Winchester had been born to hold the Lightbringer inside of him and bring the world to an end. That was old news. What wasn’t, and wasn’t news at all because Gabriel had never broadcasted it, was the fact that it wasn’t just the humans that were made for his Father’s sons. His father had promised his sons to those same humans. Just…not in the way that was expected.

From what Gabriel had been told, Chuck did love a complicated metaphor. Or, at least, some shitty irony masquerading as one. 

Sam had been made for Lucifer, but Gabriel had been made for Sam. 

He sucked in a breath as he let the thought fill his mind. For the last ten years he’d tried his hardest to forget it. He’d tried to ignore it. Hell, he’d tried to tell himself that this relationship had nothing to do with the fact. It had nothing to do with how his Father had planned not only war between Michael and Lucifer, but the further fracturing of their family by making Gabriel love the one human he could never have. In the grand scheme of angelic choices, there wasn’t much of one when it came between Lucifer and himself. Gabriel knew that. He’d always known that. Lucifer was so much more  than he’d ever been, and he’d hoped that running away and losing himself in a completely different life would finally erase it. That it wouldn’t matter anymore.

Except now, years later, Sam had made that choice. And he’d chosen in the way that no one would have ever expected. Sam loved him for whatever reasons he had, Gabriel had never asked, and Gabriel had always just loved him as much as he was able to. Which was, in fact, more than he ever thought possible. Because he was made to. It was cruel and awful and painful, but they’d somehow twisted that around into something good. Something wonderful. Something that Gabriel knew beat at the heart of his being. Something that needed Sam in every way possible. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, and it was only then that Gabriel realized that he was probably staring into space. 

Now that loving look was taken over by concern, and Sam kissed his palm again in a way that was less of a romantic gesture and more of a comforting one. Gabriel’s hand pressed harder against Sam’s cheek, and he took a deep breath as he met those beautiful hazel eyes with his own again. It was almost unnerving to see himself mirrored in Sam’s eyes now. Gabriel had never been much of one to look at himself, if only because it was Loki looking back at him, but it only made the ache in him grow. Sam had never known him any other way. This body, this vessel, was the only way that Sam Winchester had ever loved him. He’d never seen Gabriel’s true form. He’d never seen the way his grace could curl around a star or a planet and hold it close. He’d never seen the nearly infinite light and love that was housed under layers of muscle and skin. Of course he knew that Sam was logically aware that this body wasn’t his own, but it was different than seeing it. Knowing it. Feeling it.

“I…” he began, but shook his head, “just thinking.”

“Yeah, I can tell. I can see the gears turning,” Sam pointed out, “care to share with the class?”

He didn’t want to. Not after how wonderful the night had already been. It would have been shitty of him to follow up amazing sex with a history lesson. It would have been even shittier to follow up amazing sex with prophecy. They’d both had enough of that over the years, and the last thing Gabriel wanted to do was drag up old hurts. It had taken a long time for them both to heal from the Apocalypse, and he was happy with letting it be in the past. It was all in the past. All of it, save for how much he loved the man in front of him. 

“Sometimes I wish I could give you more,” Gabriel said, “just…more. More of me. The real me.”

It wasn’t untrue. It might not have been a hundred percent what he’d been thinking about, but it wasn’t untrue. He did wish that he could give Sam more. Gabriel wished that he could give Sam everything that he deserved, and just the tip of the iceberg was being able to give more of himself than he already did. It was just difficult because giving anything more meant the possibility of burning Sam up right where he stood. Made for an Archangel or not, Sam was still human. He was human, and Gabriel was very aware of what happened when humans looked too close. 

Sam’s expression softened even more, and he covered Gabriel’s hand that was still pressed against his cheek. He tipped his chin down, kissed Gabriel’s forehead again, and let his lips stay right where they were. They were wrapped up together and as close as they could possibly be. There was no room between them. Their skin was touching, but it still wasn’t enough. They couldn’t be close enough. There was no way that they could ever be as close as Gabriel wanted them to be. 

“Sometimes I wish you could too,” Sam said, and Gabriel’s eyes narrowed just a little for it, “it’s- I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Gabriel replied almost immediately, “whatever you think, it’s not stupid.”

Sam took a breath, “sometimes, when you’re not here, I wish I could feel you. You know?” He moved Gabriel’s hand from where it was resting against his cheek so he could press it over his heart, “here.”

His hand twitched. Sam’s heartbeat had slowed from the breakneck pace it had been thundering at moments ago, but Gabriel could still feel it moving under his ribs. He could feel the throb of blood that moved through Sam’s entire body, the thing that kept him living, and he knew exactly what Sam meant by it. The heart was an organ, a muscle that beat to keep Sam alive, but it was also something else. It was space. There was, like Gabriel, almost infinite room inside of it. There was room that Gabriel wanted to occupy. Sam had made space for him, and he so very much wanted to be there when he couldn’t be by Sam’s side.

“I’ve had things, bad things, inside me,” Sam went on, “things I didn’t want. Since I was little. And I just want something good.”

“You and me both,” Gabriel murmured, and closed his eyes.

Sam pulled him closer. He crushed Gabriel against his chest, and rested his chin on the top of his head. With his face burning in Sam’s neck, Gabriel could both feel and hear the thrum of Sam’s heart. He could feel the way he breathed. He could smell his skin. He could so feel the same want in Sam that he could feel inside himself. Gabriel was never much of one to try and tune himself into Sam’s thoughts or emotions. It felt like too much of an intrusion, and it wasn’t fair when Sam couldn’t do the same. Sometimes, though, it happened whether Gabriel wanted it to or not. Like now, he could feel the way Sam’s heart was open and longing to be filled. He wanted that space to not be empty anymore. 

He so desperately wanted to give Sam something . Maybe he couldn’t give him a real part of himself. Maybe he couldn’t nestle a touch of his grace down in Sam’s soul because it would be too much like being possessed like he had been in the past. Maybe he couldn’t show Sam his true form. Gabriel knew all of that. But he knew that there had to be something. There had to be something that meant enough to them both that they could both have no matter what.

“You know what I think about a lot?” Gabriel asked, though his voice was muffled against Sam’s neck.

“Hm?” Sam asked against his hair.

“The first time I saw you,” Gabriel said, “the very first time.”

He felt Sam smile.

“That was a long time ago.”

“You were all awkward and smiley, and super into me,” Gabriel teased, “I think you blushed every time I looked at you.”

“Did not,” Sam argued, but he squeezed Gabriel closer, “you just like to think that.”

“Mm, I think we’re remembering it different.”

“I think about when you told us who you were,” Sam said softly, “who you really were. Once we caught you in TV Land.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, and he lifted his chin in an attempt to look up into Sam’s face, “Why then?”

“You were so…upset,” Sam answered, “the look on your face when you said your name? I’ll never forget it.”

It had been the first time in a long time that anyone had said his name. It had been even longer still since he’d said it himself. He’d been so angry. So, so angry. He’d been angry that he’d been pulled back into Heaven’s bullshit. He’d been angry that he had to do what he was told. He’d been angry that he couldn’t fight it, and maybe have the chance to stop things before they went too far. But he couldn’t. Not then. After, yes, but not then. And Gabriel had hated himself for a long time about it after.

“I didn’t want to do it,” Gabriel said, “say all that to you. Hurt you. Not really. I had to.”

“I know.”

Their entire lives were as twined together as their bodies. Truly, after and despite everything, there really was no Gabriel without Sam or Sam without Gabriel. Even if Sam didn’t know all of the little details, if Gabriel never told him, they were still completely wound together. That was the painful thing. They were so ensconced in each others’ lives, but sometimes it still didn’t feel like enough. They both so desperately needed and wanted love, the love for each other, but it was clear that the parts of them on the inside wanted and needed more than just gentle words.

The hand over Sam’s heart slid lower. It moved to press against his ribs, and Gabriel closed his eyes as he felt the bone under warm skin. His mind wandered. It cast him backward. In his mind’s eye Gabriel saw all the years between them. He saw the anger, the hatred, the friendship, and then the love. He saw the danger and the pain. He saw the joy. He saw everything as it had been, their entire story, and his fingers pressed hard where they rested. 

“We’ve been through a lot, haven’t we?” Gabriel asked softly, “you and me?”

Sam let out a soft noise, “too fucking much.”

It was too fucking much. It was too much to just let it exist in the ether. Their story, everything from the first moments and even before that, spanned too many years and too many hard truths between them. They’d both had to change. They’d both had to choose strength and kindness over despair and anguish. It was in everything they did. It was in the way they breathed. It was in the way they fucked. It was in the way they lay there, at that moment, like a living thing both inside and outside of them. 

“You should keep it,” Gabriel murmured, “all of it. You deserve that.”

He felt Sam shift, and suddenly there were hazel eyes looking into his own. They were beautiful, they always were, but Gabriel could see the confusion in them. Sam didn’t understand. Hell, Gabriel didn’t really understand. The words had left his mouth before his brain had a chance to catch up. He stood by it, though. Out of anyone in the world, Sam Winchester deserved to be the one to hold onto their story. Their entire story. He saw too much pain and blood and death for it to just be some concept between the two of them. It should be concrete, something Sam could have whenever he needed it, and Gabriel so desperately wanted to give that to him. It was a part of them, a part of him , and he would give it in any way that he could.

“I don’t…” Sam started, but cut himself off with a shake of his head.

Gabriel took a breath and let it fill his lungs. He looked into Sam’s eyes, and lifted his chin to press a kiss against his lips. It was soft and sweet, chaste and loving, and he felt Sam smile against it. It was a nice kiss. It was one they shared regularly these days. Instead of the sometimes hungry and biting kisses that had them tumbling into bed together, this was the kind they shared after. Sleepy and satisfied, even if they weren’t completely. 

Again, Gabriel squeezed a hand against Sam’s ribs. This time Sam covered it with one of his own, and the kiss they shared was deeper. Longer. Gabriel’s fingers shook, but the weight of Sam’s hand over his own was a comforting one. It always was. He could feel the bone. He could feel the way Sam’s chest expanded when he breathed. He could feel that there was limitless space inside that could hold them. Their history. Their story. It was always meant for Sam. Always.

There had been a time, so many years ago, when Castiel had etched a spell on both of the Winchesters’ ribs. It was meant to hide them from Heaven. From the angels. Clearly that hadn’t worked out so well. Dean’s own ribs had been reformed when was pulled out of Hell, and Sam’s…well, Sam’s body hadn’t exactly come back completely clean from his time in the Cage. The Enochian was gone, but there had been so much left instead. Lucifer still clung to Sam’s soul and on the inside of his body like gum on the bottom of a shoe. There was no getting rid of him. Sam had squared with that a long time ago. It wasn’t pretty, wasn’t kind, but Sam had learned to live with it as best he could. Gabriel tried to help where he was able, but like his time with Asmodeus there was only so much healing that could be done. Some things were never going to be permanently gone. But maybe, just maybe, Gabriel could cover it. Not wash it clean, but bury the bad in something good. In something older than the torture. Older than the pain. 

His grace flared. Even after so long it was still a volatile thing. It arced and flashed with little to no rhyme or reason behind it. Gabriel assumed it was because of Sam. Because of the love inside of him. His vessel was meant to hold his true form and his grace, but there had been no account for love. Gabriel had never thought he would feel it so strongly again. Sometimes he felt stuffed completely full and so achingly empty all at once. Still, his grace flared inside of him, and he could feel it warm the tip of his fingers where it rested against Sam’s skin.

“I don’t think I’m as eloquent as Dad,” Gabriel said, “but you should have it. All of it. Written down.”

“Chuck’s a hack,” Sam replied, and kissed Gabriel’s lips again, “anything you come up with has got to be better than those books.”

“I don’t know. He did at least say I was handsome.”

“He had to tell the truth a little, right?”

That was true. And Gabriel had to tell the truth too. All of it. Even the parts that Sam didn’t know. Even if Sam never heard them, never felt them, he would understand . He would understand because, finally , they would be written on the inside. The words, their story, would hold him together. They would be proof that Sam Winchester was loved as much as he deserved. That he was loved as much as he wanted to be. That he was loved as much as any being in the whole of creation could. 

“Will it hurt?” Sam asked.

Gabriel hadn’t said what he planned to do. He hadn’t said, but Sam seemed to know. It was as though they could read each others’ mind at times. When they needed to the most. The words didn’t matter so much. They rarely did. It was the intention that mattered. The action. 

“I don’t know,” Gabriel admitted as he looked back up into Sam’s eyes, “never done this before.”

Sam nodded and took a deep breath. Gabriel could feel him steel himself. It was like right before a fight. Sam expected pain because he always expected pain. They both did. And maybe it would hurt. Gabriel could try his best to keep the pain at a minimum, but there was little to be done about the actual act itself. Writing a story onto someone’s bones was as deep as it got. This wasn’t a tattoo or a piercing. This was something else. Something, in a lot of ways, that was just as old and primal as Gabriel himself. And it was something that he could give to Sam.

It took a moment for Gabriel to compose himself. Never, in all of his years, had he ever thought to do something like this. In a lot of ways, it was forbidden. Then again, a lot of things he’d done had been forbidden. This was just another in a long list of sins that he’d probably have to answer for when the time came. But at least this one was worth it. Everything up until now had been leading him, leading them both, to this point, and Gabriel knew deep down in the truest part of himself that it had been meant to be. He’d been made for Sam. Their story was always, at least somewhat, meant to be written. But now, instead of it being his Father holding the pen, it was Gabriel himself. He deserved that. Sam deserved that. And all it took was Gabriel sinking into himself and letting it all wash over him anew.

Truly there weren’t enough words. Enochian was as old as Creation itself, but even it had limitations. It was pure celestial feeling and intent, but the love Gabriel felt seemed to be beyond it. He gave Sam everything: the knowledge of his purpose, the whole story of his own creation, and the prophecy that had been given to him. To them both, really. It was God and Lucifer and Gabriel and Loki and every human he’d ever known. It was his time as the Trickster. It was every feeling and thought he’d ever shoved in a box at the back of his mind, It was every flicker of grace. It was every flutter of his wings. It was Sam. It was the first time their eyes met. It was the playfulness and the understanding of Sam’s role in everything. It was pain and anger and rage. It was freedom. It was ownership. It was torture. It was death. It was so much death. 

Gabriel could feel every word as they were carved atop Sam Winchester’s bones. Castiel had written that spell upon his ribs, but this story was far too much for that. Every inch of Sam was covered. On the inside, he was no longer the duct tape and safety pins. He wasn’t the residue of Lucifer. He was everything he’d been and everything he was still fated to be. He was everything Gabriel had ever been, and everything Gabriel would still be. He was one and he was them both. He was angelic, Holy, written in the words of love in a way that no other human ever had been. 

Sam never made a sound. Maybe it did hurt. Maybe it caused him pain, but Sam never let on that it was anything other than Gabriel touching him in an even more intimate way than they’d ever been. Gabriel’s grace was inside of him, carving itself onto him, and the only thing Sam did was hold him closer. He breathed. He lived. It was all he’d ever had to do, and it was all Gabriel had ever wanted him to do. And he did it beautifully.

When their eyes met again, Gabriel could feel something change. Gone was the feeling of want. There wasn’t an emptiness there anymore. Not in Sam, at least. He was still breathing, not even hard, but there was something in him that was different. Gabriel could never know if Sam knew what was written inside of him, not unless he asked, but the expression Sam wore said enough. Contentment. Happiness. If he hurt at all, then maybe it was the dull and satisfying kind of ache that came after a labor of love. He smiled, and Gabriel felt it all the way through him. Sam was happy, and that was all that mattered. He had what he wanted. What he deserved, and finally Gabriel had been the one to give it to him.

“What about you?” Sam asked.

“What about me?” Gabriel countered, and leaned in to kiss him.

“S’not fair if I’m the only one.”

Gabriel smiled, and pulled Sam even closer, “It’s never been about fair.”

“Then do it because I want to,” Sam told him, “and I’m not asking.”

One eyebrow cocked, “You know it’s different for me. A vessel is just a thing. It’s not…it’s not me .”

Sam took another breath and sat up a bit so that he could cup Gabriel’s face in one hand. His fingers brushed along his cheek, through the strands of hair that fell into his face, and over his jaw. It was a tender touch. Full of care. Full of love. It was also a bid for Gabriel to stop and listen . Listen to what Sam had to say because it was so easy to to brush something off and deny himself yet again.

“Don’t put it on your vessel, then,” Sam said, “right?”

He was looking down at Gabriel so earnestly. So lovingly. Like it was so easy. Like Gabriel could carve into himself, the real him, and come out unscathed. Yes, he’d done the same thing to Sam, but angels were different. His true form was different. It was like trying to hold an idea in your hands. It was like trying to hold light or life itself. He existed, but there was hardly a part of him that could truly hold just what Sam was asking for. Maybe inside, maybe in the place where that love resides, but the body he was made with wasn’t meant for such things.

Then again, Gabriel had never done what he was meant to do unless he had to. 

So he took Sam’s hand. He wrapped it in one of his own and pressed it against his chest. The heart inside of his vessel pounded, but there was something else under it that stirred. It didn’t happen often. His grace and his true self were different things. It often lay dormant inside of him. It gave him the power to move and breathe and be, but Gabriel had long since forced himself to not be aware of it. It made him feel small. Too small. Like he’d been crushed inside of something not meant for him. So he’d forgotten. He’d forgotten what it was like to truly be Angel. And now Sam was making him remember.

“Whatever you want it to be,” Gabriel told him, “just…you know. Lead with that. The power of love and friendship and all that.”

“Shut up,” Sam laughed.

He did. He shut up and pressed Sam’s hand hard against his chest. Over his heart. Gabriel could feel the warmth and the pressure. He could feel the part of Sam that so desperately wanted to be under Gabriel’s skin and wrapped around his grace and his real body reaching out. He hadn’t felt something like this in so long. It was almost alien. Humans were never meant to touch them like this. He was always meant to be separate. Apart. But with Sam, they were one. Always one. They had been since the beginning even if they’d never wanted to admit it.

It hurt. 

Fuck, it hurt.

This was worse than any blade that pierced him. It was worse than even the fake Archangel blade Lucifer had used on him. It was worse than anything. It was worse, but it was so much better. The pain stretched out inside of him. Filled him. Wrapped around him. The culmination of it was right under Sam’s palm, but it echoed through him like ripples in a lake. He felt it at the core of himself. Gabriel felt it like he’d felt himself be created all over again. It was all screaming atoms and the will of the universe called together into one place. It changed him. Gabriel had never been meant to be changed. Not really. Not this deeply. Yet he was changed. He was changed, and Sam had been the one to do it.

Sam had always been the one to do it. 

So now, after eons and epochs and millennia of loneliness and pain and fear. After so long of being empty. After so long of being the same. After so long of just being something made for someone else, there was something about him that had been changed. It was a change that was given, not taken. It had hurt like it was his entire being, but it was only small. Ironic, wasn’t it? Maybe irony ran in the family, after all. It wasn’t like what was on the inside of Sam now. It wasn’t their whole story. If anything, Sam had taken that and condensed it down into the one thing that mattered. It was the only thing that mattered. Leave it to Sam to be so fucking efficient. It was one of the reasons why Gabriel loved him. 

It was one word. One word written in Enochian that was burned bright on the deepest and truest part of him. Any angel could see if they looked at him. They would also see what was written on Sam’s bones if they cared. Gabriel wasn’t shy about it. Neither was Sam, if the way it felt was anything to go by. It was one word, and only one word. The best word. The word that Gabriel had so longed to hear for the entire time he’d been alive. It was the word that was so often spoken and unspoken between them.

Love.