AN: Brought to you courtesy of the many, many gifs of ducklings that occasionally flood my dash and my severe need for crack and fluff after season 9.
Also, this sort of grew a plot when I wasn't looking, so I might turn it into a proper-length fic at some point. I'm leaving it as a one-shot for now, or it will get lost in my WiP folder forever. If I expand it, it will probably turn into Sam/Gabe.
Good morning, your fluffyness!
Sam awoke with a duck on his chest.
The origin of said duck wasn't a mystery – Castiel had brought it to the Bunker as a duckling and left it in Sam's care. He left before Dean could ask for any more explanations or demand that he stay. Most of the day, the duckling would be waddling in or around one of the kitchen sinks, which Sam had commandeered for this purpose. It was a good thing that it was one of those deep, old-fashioned sinks – they only filled it half way and it gave the duckling enough room to swim in. It annoyed Dean to no end, but the little fuzzball seemed happy enough. When not splashing about in the sink, the duckling would follow Sam around the place and doze off on top of volumes of lore while he did research. It was a surprisingly well-behaved fowl.
Dean grew used to its presence and, once he discovered the little guy had a sweet-tooth, even got a bit attached to it. He kept feeding it candy when he thought Sam wasn't paying attention and Sam couldn't stop explaining why it was a particularly bad idea to do so. Anyway, it didn't stop Dean and the duckling was willing to go behind Sam's back to get its share of M&Ms.
In theory, the duckling was supposed to spend its nights in Sam's bathroom – close enough in case something happened and with access to a full bathtub to splash around to its heart's content without making too much of a mess. Except… it only took the duckling a few nights to figure out how to leave the bathroom and sneak into Sam's bed in the middle of the night. Which is how Sam woke up one morning with a warm, fluffy weight on his chest, going up and down with the rise and fall of every breath in and out. He didn't tell Dean about that.
The problem was ducklings don't stay ducklings for long and all the candy Dean was "secretly" feeding it wasn't helping, either. Their little fuzzball was growing into a rather handsome duck that was taking up a surprisingly large amount of space. It still followed Sam around the Bunker and slept on his books when he did research, but the kitchen sink was finally fowl free (much to Dean's delight) and Sam's bathroom was a lot more soggy. Still, every night, it snuck into Sam's bed to sleep on his chest, or cuddle next to him. Sam much preferred the second option because ducks were a lot heavier than they looked.
Sam awoke with a duck on his chest and he cursed Dean for feeding it so much candy. Sleepy and out of breath, he reached out a hand to push his burden to one side so he could actually breath. "That's it, no more M&Ms for you," he said, his eyes still closed.
Except, instead of soft, downy feathers, his fingers touched naked skin and his eyes snapped open.
Gabriel, naked as a newborn baby, was sprawling on top of Sam, looking more relaxed than a Trickster/Archangel returned from the dead probably should. He swatted back at Sam's hand, mumbling something about needing five more minutes.
Sam stood up, forcing Gabriel to roll over. He woke up with a moan that turned into a leer when he apparently realized what he'd been doing.
"You broke my curse, I guess that makes you my Prince Charming," Gabriel said with a huge grin on his face.
"What are you doing here?" Sam snapped, but not as harshly as he expected to.
"Mostly, I was being an adorable duck, as far as I know. Took me a while to remember that wasn't what I was supposed to be – duck's brains aren't very good at imagining other shapes for themselves." He pushed himself up on one elbow, barely reaching Sam's collarbone the way they were sitting. "Can we go back to sleep now? The most coherent thought I have at the moment is wondering if I can still swim in your tub and I'm afraid I might actually end up trying it," he said, pulling the covers off Sam and rolling himself into a human-shaped burrito.
Sam scrubbed at his eyes with one hand and gave a heavy sigh. He was too tired for shit like this. Leaving it 'til morning looked like the best idea, so he lay back in bed and wrapped an arm around Gabriel to make sure he wasn't going anywhere.
When Dean woke him up later, Sam was curled around a mound made out of blankets, with a very smug looking duck in the middle.