Sam had never gotten this smashed before in his entire life. He'd never been as hungover and as shitty feeling after getting smashed, and he had never had glittery gold... was that sugar? - smeared all over his body along with more than a couple hickies.
Speaking of his body, why wasn't the top half covered?
And where in the hell is he? This wasn't the motel room he had been staying in with Dean.
Slowly, but surely, he starts putting the pieces together as he goes around, trying to find his shirt in the mess surrounding him.
It hadn't been a big case, honestly, but Sam thought it was a good idea to go and check it out anyway. It was their first case in a long time. Sam could tell Dean had been getting restless and, honestly? It was probably the most annoying thing to have an restless Dean. So why not?
It turns out the case was even less of a big deal then they thought. Some bar down the street had just been attracting a lot of people, the signature drink there was apparently 'the best damn thing' anybody in the town had ever tasted. While Sam had tried to gather more information about it, Dean had been flirting. Sam rolls his eyes as he gets the pretty agent to go out with him.
Later that night back at the motel, Dean breaks the silence as he gets himself ready. "Alright, Sammy, While I'm out on my date, you're going to go check out that bar." "What? Why?" Sam gives him the quizzical puppy dog look he's so good with, Dean doesn't even notice. "Because I doubt that any drink that's got 'glittery' in the name is actually that good." He checks himself out in the mirror, turning to Sam. "Hell, maybe you'll even find yourself a girl." Sam groans. "Dean I -" "Sammy, you haven't been laid in months, okay? I worry about you. You'll get blue -" Sam stops him. "Fine! Fine! I'll go, just - go." Dean grins and walks toward the door, shouting back to Sam before it closes. "Get laid!"
Sam rolls his eyes, though he's got a fond smile on his face. "Jerk."
To be perfectly honest, Sam had never liked bars this much. And this one seemed worse than most. When he pushes open the door, he's overwhelmed by a sweet, almost sticky smell. He blinks once or twice, looking around the bar with distaste. It didn't take long for him to notice that he didn't fit in. His plaid shirt clashing with the bright colors everybody else seemed to wear. To him, it just looked like a bunch of drunk people, nothing suspicious or demonic. He turns to leave.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I do believe that refills are in order!" He freezes. Because that voice is way too familiar. He turns and low and behold, a certain archangel is pouring bright gold drinks into tall glasses rimmed with what looks like golden glitter. His jaw drops. No way. Gabriel was dead. He wouldn't be bartending in freaking Illinois. He doesn't realize that his body is taking him through the crowds of people to the bar, to the archangel that he knew for a fact was long gone.
" - Gabriel?" His staring eyes are met with the warm golden butterscotch colored ones of Gabriel. "Samsquatch!" He crows, completely ignoring the groups of people who were practically begging for refills. "You're - " "Dead?" He waggles his eyebrows, Sam sits in front of him. "I shouldn't be surprised you avoided death, I really shouldn't." "Damn right Sammy." He glares, Gabriel grins, grabbing a glass. "Want a Glittering Gabriel?" Sam wants to ask how he did it and why he didn't tell them that he wasn't dead, but he knows that he probably wouldn't get a straight answer, instead asking. "A what now?" "It's my drink!" He gestures toward the almost glowing liquid that everybody was drinking.
"Of course you named it after yourself." Sam can't hide the slight smile on the corner of his mouth. Gabriel grins, pouring Sam and himself a drink. Sam stares, suspicous. "How do I know your not - I dunno, drugging me or something." Gabriel puts a hand to his chest and gives him a hurt look. "Why, Sam, how could you ever accuse me of something so vial?!" "You trapped me in a endless loop of Tuesdays, I can accuse you of whatever I please." Gabriel huffs, muttering 'still not over that huh?' and picking up the drink and taking a sip. "Not drugged." Sam, still a bit weary, takes the drink, running his finger along the golden glitter, sniffing it, a bit surprised.
"Sugar?" "Yup.~" "I'm honestly not surprised." He takes a sip and almost gags, the sweet flavor overwhelming, But the aftertaste is tart and it sends shudders down his spine, hair on the back of his neck prickling. " - wow." He mumbles, staring at the gold drink. Gabriel takes a huge sip of his own drink, grinning. "I know right?" "The hell is in this, Gabe?" "Now, why should I tell you that?" Sam wants to tell him off, but his thoughts are already fuzzy. Just from one sip. He's instantly more suspicious. He opens his mouth to ask again, but Gabriel has reached out, dragging a finger along his lower lip and pulling his finger back with sticky golden sugar stuck to it.
His senses are heightened and that simple touch has sent an almost electric tingle through his entire body. Something wasn't right with the Glittering Gabriel drinks, but he'd be damned if he complained about it. It's so wrong that he's suddenly dumbed down after just a taste and he finds himself wanting - no, craving more. He tries to shove the feel down, he really does. But then Gabriel is honest to god sucking the sugar off his finger, pulling his finger from his mouth with a obscene pop. "Pretty good, huh Sammy?" Gabriel's tone is honestly soaked in that stupid flirtatious tone of his.
Sam practically inhales the next few rounds.
It's so hot it aches, burning him to the core, his entire body trembling as his shirt is tugged off all too slowly for his liking. Finally it's off and he goes for the other's mouth, desperate to get another taste, but those sugar coated lips are attached to his chest before he can do a damn thing about it, sucking and nipping in all the right places. He's writhing against the wall, pleading because god - he needs another taste, he needs to taste that Glittering Gabriel. Finally his wishes are granted, sugar and alcohol strong on Gabriel's lips.
Trying to kiss Gabriel was like trying to lasso a hurricane. He moved so fast and wild, teasing for a moment before forcing his tongue into Sam's mouth, almost fighting him. But Sam isn't going to let that stop him. He spins them around, pinning Gabriel to the wall behind them, Gabriel's legs wrapping around his waist. If Gabriel was anything, it was flexible. His hands envelop his face, gripping him as he kisses back with just as much furious energy. Gabriel knows he could easily pin Sam, but god damn, he's drank enough to not even care anymore, letting the Winchester pin him without protest.
He can almost feel Sam unwinding under him and knows what to do, hands gripping his hips and rutting them together hard. Sam makes an appreciative drunken sound mixed with a moan, rolling his own hips against Gabriel's. Their movements are frantic, desperate, and Sam is chanting his name. "Gabriel, Gabriel Gabriel Gabriel -" He can feel it building up, burning inside him as he goes silent, mouth agape. Gabriel, with an expert roll of this hips brings Sam to his release, revealing in the choked noise the Winchester makes as he looses himself. Gabriel follows his lead.
Sam came so hard that the world went black and white.
Gabriel is pressing little kisses to his neck, murmuring words that are too fuzzy to remember.
Sam has finally put all the bits and pieces together, face flushed, head throbbing and pants uncomfortably sticky. He moves into the bathroom, every little movement sending a jolt of pain through his head. He groans, giving up all hope of moving for the rest of the day and laying down on the floor, resting his head on the cool linoleum.
He finds himself wondering where the hell Gabriel even went after their.. Encounter, wishing that the archangel was there so he could.. He didn't even know what he wanted to do with Gabriel {well, he does, but the thoughts just make his head hurt even more}.
He hears the flutter of wings all too loud, groaning at the jolt of pain to his head. "Can you turn yourself down?" he mumbles. Gabriel chuckles, resting two fingers against Sam's lower back. Sam feels like he just got back from a day at the Spa. "Oh." He states, sitting up, again reminded of the mess of his pants as he looks up at Gabriel. He honestly doesn't look much better than Sam, hair mussed, sugar stuck all over him too. He leans down and steals a kiss from Sam, who responds without a second thought.
"Admit it, I am the best damn bartender and lover that you've ever seen."
"Can you turn down your ego?" Sam can't even try to force back his smile.
"Where's the fun in that?~"