As with all my stories, I post here and on AO3. My response to the end of When Sammy Met Gabe was essentially "but what about their honeymoon?!" so ... here's the honeymoon!
"Okay, we're at the airport now. Can we stop the whole surprise thing and find out where we're meant to be going?" Sam asked as he stood with Gabriel in the middle of the entrance to San Fransisco International Airport. It was early morning, and Sam hadn't slept all night. Nor had Gabriel. But Sam was feeling tired, and his nerves were fraught. He hated surprises. Unfortunately, he had married into a family who seemed to love giving them about … eighteen hours ago.
Gabriel on the other hand, seemed perky and alert, and in one of his jokey moods. Obviously, he was still riding high on a wave of enthusiasm after the wedding. He had only grudgingly changed out of his tuxedo when their brothers indicated that it was time to do so, and handed them their suitcases, which were already packed, keeping Sam out of the loop. He had interrogated all three of their brothers, demanding to know where the honeymoon was, and what had been packed, and that they had stayed the hell out of his night stand. Samandriel had been too focused on Sam's dog during Sam's constant questions, and Dean had given him a sceptical look, but Castiel's face had turned a slightly strange colour and Sam dropped the barrage of questions.
It wasn't worth ruining the surprise to have a conversation about all the sex toys he and Gabriel used.
Gabriel pulled the envelope out of his jeans pocket, and passed it to Sam.
"You can do the honours … husband."
Sam refrained from rolling his eyes.
"My name isn't Husband, that's grammatically incorrect."
"How does your brain work so quickly even through all the sleep deprivation and champagne?" Gabriel smiled at him, clearly not upset with Sam's sulking. He wheeled his suitcase back-and-forth, waiting for Sam to reveal their honeymoon destination. He slid a finger under the fold of the envelope, opening the paper carefully. Their passports were inside, Sam's one new and pristine, Gabriel's slightly discoloured and battered. Sam by-passed them and pulled out the flight information, scanning the pages carefully.
"Did you ever travel to Reykjavik?" Sam nudged his new husband. Gabriel peered at the papers, and then thought about it.
"I think I had a stopover there once, years ago. Spent the night near the airport. Always meant to go back but there was always something distracting me." Gabriel started wheeling both their cases over to the check-in desk, and Sam followed with all the travel documents. "Maybe that's why they picked Iceland?"
"Did Castiel know that?" Sam eyed a coffee stand as they passed it. Coffee sounded great right then.
"Eh, probably. I told him more than I remember doing, and you know Cas." He paused for a moment, looking back at Sam. "God, do you think he wrote that into one of his books? Some guy who blabs on about his life and his brother retains all the useless information to hit him back with later?"
"You say I do the same thing."
Gabriel's face dropped in horror, before he shrugged and carried on walking.
"It's okay, when you do it."
"Right."
"Because you put out afterwards."
Sam snorted with laughter.
"You came on to Cas?"
"I have done many things in my life Sam, but not that. Gross."
They joined the queue for their flight, and Sam leaned against Gabriel, half-sleepily, half-playfully.
"I need coffee." He mumbled.
"Once we get through security, okay?" Gabriel promised, and put both arms around Sam loosely, reaching up to kiss the nape of his neck. Sam shivered from the press of his new husband's mouth, and bent down low to whisper in his ear.
"And we're still aiming for the mile high club, aren't we?"
Gabriel winked at him, and nudged their bags closer to the check-in desk.
They got through airport security pretty quickly, and Sam bought a couple of travel guides before they sat down at a cafe. Gabriel got them both cappuccinos with an extra shot (or two) of espresso, and they both groaned with their first mouthful of the sweet, milky, frothy, caffeine hit. And then Sam started regurgitating from the travel guides.
"Did you know that in Iceland they use krona for currency? And over half the population lives in Reykjavik? And hey, I wouldn't be Sam Winchester if I was Icelandic. I would be Sam Johnson. They keep their car headlights on all the time. And they read more books than anywhere else. And-"
"Sam. It's seven in the morning. We have an eight-hour flight. Chill." Gabriel took a big gulp of his drink. "Keep going and I'll fuck you right here, right now."
Sam cracked a smile, and looked down at his guide again.
"There's no McDonald's, and no mosquitos. There's also no strip clubs. They-"
"As interesting as all this is, it's our honeymoon, Sam. We're only meant to see our hotel room."
Sam snorted, and looked up from his book.
"Can your knees take it?"
Gabriel quirked an eyebrow.
"Challenge accepted. When I've finished my coffee."
Sam smirked, and carried on flicking through the guide book, his hand sliding absent-mindedly to his jeans pocket. And then he sighed heavily.
"Why did they ban our cells?"
"Because it's our honeymoon and Dean still has an issue with me violating you?" Gabriel guessed. "But it is our honeymoon and I don't think you're going to want your cell when we're having all the knee-cracking sex. Unless you wanna tape it?"
"I wanted to check that they were okay with Scruff, that's all."
Gabriel sipped from his cup again.
"Scruff will be fine. Samandriel will be fine. Cas and Dean will be fine, if they stay out of our room."
"Yeah, I know. Still … I hope Dean doesn't feed him too much bacon."
"Dean wouldn't. Samandriel might."
Sam groaned, burying his head in his hands, and Gabriel reached across the table to stroke his wrist.
"Scruff will be fine. We're only away for a few days."
"We should have brought Scruff with us," Sam declared through his fingers.
"You can't travel with dogs. He's with the teenager who keeps insisting he's going to steal him. Like Samandriel would let anything bad happen to him."
"I know, I know," Sam sighed, and took his hands away from his face, taking his cup and draining the coffee instead. Gabriel watched him drink up, and sipped his own drink.
There were benefits to being related to one of the most renown authors of recent times. Especially when said author used his wealth to upgrade everything and treat them to their honeymoon. They were flying first class in adjacent pods. Sam had spent take off reading aloud from the guide books, more facts that he had found in the pages that interested him. Gabriel listened, and teased until they were airborne, and then the energy boost that the coffee had provided wore off, and fatigue from staying up all night at their wedding reception set in, and Gabriel had drifted off for a nap. Sam tried, but it was hard to get comfortable even though it was first class. He was just too tall to get comfortable. Instead, he put a movie on the entertainment system and spent a long time looking through the partition between their seats at the slumbering Gabriel.
He hadn't particularly wanted to get married. Something about the institution of it all put him off. But Gabriel had wanted it, and Sam had wanted him happy. And in the end, getting married was actually really enjoyable. Sam had loved the wedding, and the weight of both his engagement ring and his wedding ring on the third finger of his left hand. But for Sam, it was about so much more than making all their friends and family watch them exchange vows, or partying, or cake. It was about everything he had been fighting for the past seven years, since they first met. About building a life with Gabriel, and helping each other get all they wanted out of life. It was about looking after their dog and enjoying their time together and maybe looking to adopt a kid, once they were back in the states.
He was psyched about their honeymoon as well. He knew that Castiel had been the driving force between the decision to go to Iceland, not just because he was bank rolling it but because he would have learned about the places Gabriel had travelled to and where he would most want to return to. He would have known what Sam would have found most appealing in a destination. Just reading the guide books had sparked his interest, and he couldn't wait to delve in to the culture. He also couldn't wait to tell Gabriel some of the more pertinent facts about Iceland, like how they were the first country to have an openly gay leader, and that Castiel had managed to find a gay-friendly destination for them. Even if Sam still had some trouble wrapping his head around the entire idea of being gay. It wasn't like gay men had a monopoly on same-sex marriages. Sam had been doing the research.
Gabriel stirred, and rubbed his eyes. Sam leaned further across the partition and nudged his new husband.
"Gabey?"
"Ugh, pet names. What do you want? I'm asleep."
"The bathroom's free. The hostesses are busy in coach. Everyone else is watching Deadpool." Sam kept his voice low.
"Thank you for your update on the state of the flight. I suppose we're airborne?"
Sam hated when Gabriel had to be forced awake more than Gabriel hated it. He was an asshole in the morning.
"Get in that restroom and drop your pants," Sam hissed. Gabriel blinked at him a few times, before his vision seemed to focus.
"Oh. You were serious?" Gabriel leaned closer, their faces inches from each other between the partitions. "Those things are tiny."
"I love a challenge." Sam looked innocently at him. Gabriel nudged his chin.
"One day, I'm not going to cave to that face." He stretched, and slid his seatbelt open. "But today is not that day. Meet me in the one in front in a minute, okay? Knock twice, wait, then another two knocks."
Sam nodded, and watched Gabriel stagger up to the bathroom. He counted to sixty as slowly as he could, then unclipped his own seatbelt, and headed to the same bathroom, giving the knock that Gabriel had told him. The door slid open almost straight away, and Sam saw Gabriel standing on the toilet rim, nearly as tall as Sam. Sam folded himself in the cubicle as well, locking the door successfully behind him. They were already pressed together, with hardly any room to move.
"How are we going to do this?" Gabriel whispered.
"You sit on the toilet, I'll sit on you." Sam decided.
"Can you bend that way?" Gabriel pondered.
"Fine, other way around." They shifted awkwardly to switch positions, Sam sitting on the closed toilet and Gabriel straddling him.
"And Pint Size? As quiet as possible, okay?" Gabriel whispered in his ear, just as he ground his crotch onto Sam's. Sam had to bite back a loud groan, and instead started opening the zipper on his jeans. Gabriel undid his own pants, wriggling them down awkwardly until they were halfway down his thighs, as Sam started stroking himself, trying to speed the tryst along. Gabriel started kissing him ferociously, clamping their mouths tightly together so that any sound Sam did make was muffled. Sam kissed him back enthusiastically, even as he heard an announcement about hitting turbulence and passengers needed to return to their seats. He stroked himself faster, worried that a flight attendant might turf them out at any second, Gabriel's tongue exploring the inside of his mouth with as much vigour. And then Gabriel was sliding onto him, bracing himself against Sam's shoulders just as someone knocked on the door. Neither of them paid any attention to whoever was on the other side, both trying to get off as quickly as possible. The plane started shaking, and Gabriel did his best to work with the tremors, as Sam half-stood, trying to thrust into Gabriel.
Gabriel felt so tight on him, they weren't used to penetration this way. But it added to the excitement of having sex on a plane, and he felt like he couldn't get deep enough into Gabriel, who by now had his legs wrapped around Sam's hips, his jeans squashed in the limited space between them. Sam knew he was bracing himself against the wall. He could turn his head just a little, still kissing Gabriel passionately, and check in the mirror to the side of the toilet. And then his attention was caught, on Gabriel's small yet perfectly formed ass, and his fingers digging into the cheeks, his cock just visible. He stopped kissing Gabriel, watching the mirror instead, and Gabriel turned to look, snorting with laughter just as the plane gave a jolt and he had to hold on even harder.
"Okay you little pervert," he whispered in Sam's ear. "Watch all you want, but we gotta be quick."
And then Gabriel was kissing his neck, and he adjusted their position so he could see better in the mirror, watching as he pulled nearly all the way out of Gabriel, then glided his way back in, over and over, faster and faster, forcing himself not to gasp out in pleasure. It was hot, watching the way they connected, and he was coming before he thought he would be, juddering against Gabriel and collapsing back onto the toilet. Gabriel guided Sam's hand onto his cock, and Sam wasted no time in working to bring Gabriel off too, the plane juddering around them, and another knock, louder this time, on the door. Gabriel grabbed a handful of tissues at the last possible moment and came into them, trying to avoid making a mess. And then he wiped Sam down, and together they put their pants back up in that cramped space.
"Ready for the walk of shame?" Gabriel whispered.
"I have absolutely no shame in having sex with you." Sam smirked back.
Gabriel checked one last time that they were cleaned up and fully clothed, and led the way back to their seats. Sam caught the eye of a flight attendant who did not look impressed, but said nothing. And Sam refused to look away. He had no shame whatsoever. It was the start of his honeymoon, and he fully intended for it to carry on in the same way, the rest of their stay in Iceland. He slipped into his seat and buckled up, and took Gabriel's hand as he reached through their partition.
"Hey, lawyer boy," Gabriel spoke quietly. Just in case someone was listening in nearby. "Technically, we just made our marriage legal."
Sam bit back a laugh.
"But just to be sure, can we consummate it again when we get to the hotel?"
Gabriel winked, and then settled back in his seat to sleep. Sam kissed his hand before letting go, and laying down on his own seat, trying to get some sleep himself. With the wedding the day before, and no sleep overnight, and a quick hook up in the airplane restroom, he was finally starting to feel tired. He dropped off to sleep almost immediately, and stayed asleep for the rest of the flight.
Sorry for the author's note at the start and the end! I've only sat in Reykjavik airport for a couple of hours (connecting flight between London and New York when I was at university and broke) and have been wanting to go back for a while, but never seem to get the chance to go. The facts that Sam reamed off are half what I learned on the trip, half what I've looked up doing research for this. With the last name thing Sam mentioned: Icelanders don't have last names, but if they need to use a second name, it's 'parents son' or parent's daughter' so Sam is correct: he is John's son, so he would end up Sam Johnson. The nerd in me loves facts like that.