(Author's Note: This is a companion story to parts six and seven of my original fic, Virgin Graces. The events in both stories take place at the same time, beginning in chapter seven of Strong Words. Feel free to check out the Destiel part as well, if you haven't already. Please be aware that even though this is the first Sabriel story I've ever written, it will still involve explicit smut. Because I basically live in a gutter. :) To anyone who is reading this because you read Virgin Graces first: Thanks so much for your loyal support! I hope you enjoy!)
Sam and Bobby made their way out of the dinner, carrying breakfast back out to the Impala for Dean and Cas. The four of them had stopped off for grub before hitting the road. It was going to be an all day drive, and they probably weren't going to make it all the way to their destination before night fall, either.
Bobby slowed to a stop. Sam glanced up to see him staring forward with confusion. Sam followed his line of view, wondering what he was looking. At the back of the Impala, Dean and Cas were standing together. And they were talking to -
"Gabriel?" Sam said, confused.
It had been a long time since Sam had seen the archangel. He appeared the same as before; shaggy hair, normal clothes, still the shortest person of the group...Gabriel turned his attention to Sam and Bobby, his eye brows raising in surprise.
"Ah, looks like breakfast has arrived," the archangel said, stepping over to Sam and Bobby.
Sam leaned back a little, as Gabriel came close to take a big whiff of the food in their hands. Apparently personal space was something that all angels needed to learn.
"Mmm. Blueberry pancakes," Gabriel said, "Well, I'll leave you all to it. Gotta keep your strength up for all that hunting, am I right, moose-y?"
Gabriel reared his hand back and slapped Sam's ass. Sam flinched, looking down at the archangel with discomfort. Was it really necessary to smack him? On the ass? Gabriel kept staring at him with his golden, honey eyes, seeming to be waiting for an actual answer.
"Er,...I guess?" Sam said, completely lost.
Gabriel winked at him before striding back over to Dean and Cas. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a giant handful of suckers before placing them on the trunk of the Impala. Sam looked at them, still not understanding what was going on.
"There," Gabriel said, nudging Cas, "Suck on that for a while. It ought to help you get that score up to a nine, like I said. Keep the love alive, guys."
Gabriel then disappeared, leaving the four men to glance around at each other. Dean and Cas turned to talk to each other after he was gone. Sam and Bobby looked at each other, both at a loss for words. They shrugged before continuing on toward the Impala. Sam had no idea why Gabriel decided to make a rare appearance. Maybe he just wanted to check on Cas.
As Cas and Dean talked, Sam eye-balled the pile of suckers on the trunk. It had been a long time since he'd had one. Actually, it had been a long time since he'd had any candy. Hoping Dean and Cas wouldn't mind, Sam reached around them to grab an orange sucker. He pulled off the wrapper, before noticing that Dean and Cas were staring at him. Sam glanced between them as he put the lollipop in his mouth.
"What?" he asked, "I like suckers."
Sam leaned his head against the car door, feeling a little drowsy. He'd been staring at the back of Dean and Cas's heads all day, as the scenery outside the windows passed by. He rolled the wet, paper stick around in his mouth, still trying to get the last bit of candy off. The lollipop was almost gone now, because he'd been sucking on it for the past few hours.
Sam yawned, having to hold the stick to keep it from falling out of his mouth. Since it looked like it was gonna be a while longer before they stopped anywhere, Sam nestled his head up against the door again and closed his eyes. The gentle rhythm of the car soon lulled him to sleep...
"...Blue, fifty-eight! Blue, fifty-eight!"
Sam looked around. There were guys all lined up strategically around him, wearing helmets and uniforms. The men were separated into two halves facing each other, bracing near the ground. Sam looked down at himself. He, too, was wearing a uniform; an orange jersey, with the number six plastered on his chest. He looked out through the bars of his helmet, realizing he was in a football formation. The center guy of the blue team clutched the ball tight in his hand before shouting -
"Hut!"
The men were suddenly all charging at each other, helmets and protective gear clashing together. Sam looked around, not knowing what to do. Why the hell was he even here? How did he end up in the middle of a football game?
Sam only had a few seconds to take in his chaotic surroundings, before a football fell against his chest. He closed his arms around it, looking down at the rough pig skin. Pure fear invaded him as he looked up. The men on the field were barreling toward him with hard faces as war cries raged from their mouths. Sam froze, unable to even brace for impact.
The men plowed into him, knocking him to the ground. They all dog piled on top of him, struggling to get to the ball. Sam was being crushed by their massive weight, his ribs compressing against his lungs. He faintly heard the sound of a whistle beyond the shouting and huffing of the men. The weight was then quickly lifted off of Sam, as the guys got up.
Sam laid flat as a pancake on the ground, staring up at bright stadium lights. He felt like he'd just been hit by a train; his whole body hurt. He couldn't get up, and the guys in uniform seemed to notice. They slowly started to crowd around and stare down at him.
"You alright, Winchester?" one asked.
Before Sam could reply, a whistle sounded again with multiple short beeps.
"Outta the way! Outta the way! I'm the coach! Move your flabby asses!"
Sam knew that voice. It was drawing closer. He rolled his head to the side, to watch the players part. The man shoved his way through, angrily making his way toward Sam. He was wearing an orange windbreaker outfit and hat, with a whistle around his neck. He also had a mustache that was clearly fake. Sam knew this man, and the fake facial hair he was wearing.
"Gabriel?" Sam asked, confused and still aching.
"Back up! Back the hell up, I say!" Gabriel shouted, asserting his authority, "This man is in need of my attention!"
Sam watched the disguised archangel kneel down to him. Sam wanted to ask why they were here, and why Gabriel was wearing that stupid fake mustache again, but he could only stare up at him in confusion. Gabriel prodded his hands briefly against Sam's chest.
"He needs CPR," Gabriel called out, "It's okay, I'm a trained professional! Nobody panic!"
Sam made a face of bewilderment. He didn't need CPR. What the hell was Gabriel talking about? Before Sam could call bullshit on Gabriel's diagnosis, the archangel raised up to his knees. He tossed a leg over Sam, straddling his waist. Sam gulped, feeling Gabriel's ass pressing against his crotch. Gabriel reached down, unbuckled Sam's helmet and tugged it off. Sam looked up at him, knowing that his was not the correct way to go about performing CPR...
"Don't be afraid, Sam," Gabriel said, taking Sam's head in his hands, "I'm gonna save you!"
The archangel's mouth crashed down against Sam's, his hands tightly clutching his cheeks. Sam blinked repeatedly, trying to comprehend what was taking place. Gabriel wasn't breathing into his mouth, like he was supposed to; he was shoving his tongue down his throat. His fake mustache tickled Sam's top lip as he penetrated his mouth. Gabriel flicked his tongue against Sam's while the thick facial hair teased his skin.
This was not CPR. This was a kiss from a 1970's porno movie.
Sam thought about pulling away and telling Gabriel to get the hell off, but something caught his attention. He realized the archangel's mouth tasted sweet. Like cotton candy. Sam found himself actually wanting Gabriel to keep going, just so he could taste the sugary flavor. He allowed Gabriel's tongue to mess around in his mouth, even though the mustache was putting him off. It seemed like he was a good kisser, anyway...
"Sammy,"
Sam awoke with a start, blinking and looking around. He realized he was still in the Impala, and Dean was turned around in the front seat, looking at him. Sam rubbed his eyes, trying to get them to focus.
"Huh? What?" he asked.
"Me and Cas are gonna go book some rooms," he said, looking a little worried, "are you okay?"
Sam gulped. He most certainly was not okay. He glanced down to see that he'd acquired a boner from the dream he'd just been pulled from. Sam casually laid his hand over his crotch, hoping to block it from his brother's view.
"I'm – I'm fine. You guys go ahead. I'll wait here," he said.
Dean nodded a little, before turning to get out of the car. Cas got out too, after giving him an odd look. Sam watched them walk away, hoping that neither of them could tell he'd just had a weird dream. A weird, oddly sexy dream. Sam lifted his hand to look down at his boner. How could that have happened from just dreaming one kiss?
Sam glanced in the seat beside him, seeing the pile of suckers Dean and Cas had discarded. Maybe the sucker had caused him to dream about Gabriel. After all, it was Gabriel's candy. Sam swallowed harshly, still tasting the orange lollipop. The dream was a weird experience...but not exactly a bad one...
Sam reached over and picked up the pile of suckers. He shoved them in his pocket, glancing around to make sure no one saw it.
(Author's Note: I genuinely had a lot of fun writing this chapter. I hope you had just as much fun reading it. :) I'm going to try my very best to post a new chapter every two or so days. I'm still in the midst of writing Foreign and Domestic, so I'm kinda crunched for time. But don't worry, there is plenty more story to come. :) Thank you for reading, and stay tuned.)