Title: Appreciation

Author: OpheliacAngel

Pairing: Dean/Gabriel

Genre: Romance/Family/Friendship

Rating: Teen

Summary: 'Would you like to know the difference between archangels and angels, Dean?' Gabriel shows a side of himself to Dean that the hunter never would have expected. No spoilers, set during no specific season.

A/N: Okay, so this came out of nowhere and it has taken me forever, for some reason, to upload. It's fluffy though and very special to me, so I'm happy I'm finally getting up the guts to share.

Soundtrack: Deftones' 'Leathers'

~Shed your casing

Show your lines and shapes

Wear your insides

On the outside~

Gabriel's eyes are thoughtful, displaying a certain unbreakable fondness as they roam over all that Dean Winchester is: his hardened though still miraculously soft hands, his shy though altogether beautifully bright smile that makes the archangel wish to give him anything and everything he desires, hazel eyes that sparkle with promise even in the darkest of moments, as well as a soul vivid enough to make even him stand still, left surprisingly in awe and wonderment and a permanence that fills Gabriel's head for days later.

"Would you like to know the difference between archangels and angels, Dean?"

His eyes float up to look into his, and Gabriel takes the hunter's hand in both of his own and cradles it as if it was the most fragile and pure thing, because everything about Dean Winchester is exactly this, and they all come together to form one being who he cannot for the life of him fully understand, or comprehend how he could possibly crave this creature so much.

"We have a far greater appreciation for the human body. The human soul."

Gabriel's fingers, gently, brush against Dean's hand before running up and down his arm in motions as predictable as he can make. Dean shivers minutely, his eyes never leaving Gabriel's in an unspoken fear that radiates off of him.

"Studying it wasn't boredom for us, we would spend hours merely doing just that, sometimes together, sometimes alone, looking down on your kind in secret. Either admiring you, or trying and failing to see what makes you tick."

He can see something more in Dean's eyes now; the fear is still there, tangible and something he can taste just by maintaining eye contact. There's a certain wonder hiding in the hunter's hazel eyes that comes as a surprise to the archangel; it draws him closer more than the words he's been saying ever could, and he still doesn't quite understand why he's telling Dean these things at all, but in a way he wants to, in a way... he wants the Winchester to know this side of him, to know it and trust in it.

"Of course," and he certainly doesn't lose sight of Dean for a moment whilst remembering, "Lucie developed hatred and disgust and Michael doubts that he proudly sucked up for Daddy's constant approval, and I got the fascination bit that left me feeling so empty and alone sometimes." And here he is, right before Dean, pouring his heart out for this beautifully complex, flawed creature, a work of art, and somehow... he doesn't feel the need to understand anymore. "I'm telling ya, Deano," he grins, his fingers entwining with the hunter's for a moment playfully, before bringing them back down beside him, "you should be happy I'm on your side."

And Dean doesn't say a word. His skin is deliciously warm, and as his fingers brush along the soft surface, they tingle in want and anticipation. His lips brush Dean's hand on an impossibly irrepressible whim and his eyes then float back up to his, warm and gentle, showing Dean he means no harm.

"I was subject to this even more than my brothers were. The only solace I found in their incessant arguing was to observe your own pain and suffering, the happiness and love your kind would give out so randomly, in hopes of vanquishing pain rather than causing it. I found it was luck, more often than not, random luck that horrified me and left me wanting." He holds Dean's gaze still, watching him carefully, for any type of clue he might be granted to have. "Perhaps leaving my home entitled me to this, to you, since I sought out humans more frequently."

"To play with," Dean answers, pushing for the archangel's admittance, if it's even there at all, "to toy with..." And Gabriel holds Dean's head up with his hand under his chin and locks his lips with the hunter's to contradict him, the force and passion of it no doubt forming doubts and questions in the Winchester's mind. When he breaks away from the kiss, he breaks away completely, standing up from his kneeling position and pushing away from the bed Dean sits on uncertainly.

Eyes follow him when he turns his back, he can feel them and his grace screams out to him sharply, painfully when he realizes he always wants those eyes on him.

He clenches his hands into fists, beginning to pace, and when he hears the bed creak in the silence of the still room, he turns around and sees Dean still gazing at him. He can't help but smile as it turns out it holds no mistrust or hint of a grudge. Not that Dean should anyway, considering Gabriel almost got squashed trying to protect him and yes, simultaneously prove himself in a way he never has before to the Winchester.

Dean's words give him the hope that maybe be does, finally, understand. "Why not Sam?"

"Why not you?" Gabriel replies back, no trace of hesitance in his voice. "Why do you think it so unbelievable for me to choose you?" Why keep up with the act of selflessness, Dean? What good has it ever done you? Though as angry as it may make the archangel, he keeps it down far better than the pity he has for Dean's mentality: Save Sam, save Cas, drive yourself into the ground while doing it. "Cas did," he points out, "without even realizing it he chose you. And perhaps you want Cas more." It's not a question, don't even begin to think that he's failed to witness the eye sex, not in person but still, it spoke in volumes from his vastly lengthy position away from Dean.

The thing is, he chose Dean right in that car, mere minutes before letting Dean open his eyes and shake some sense into him. He chose him and in that choice, he stood up to his brother, because completely disregarding Dean and living a life he had lived for far too long, a life he often thought he liked, was no longer something he could do anymore. He wouldn't stand on the sidelines after Dean had so blatantly asked him a favor, or rather, demanded it. He forgave the hunter for sending him to his death, because in that death, after a resurrection he was still trying to wrap his head around, he realized what he wanted most even more than the moment he made his decision, which was in that damn car, still wishing Dean was in the driver's seat staring back at him, a strong presence that would simultaneously ground him and push him forward.

He wanted Dean, he had gained an intense interest and appreciation for Dean that he had never had towards anyone before. It had to mean something. He saw how strong Dean was, how right he was and how beautiful he was, and that's what he gave his life for.

That's what he would give his life for again and again if need be.

The human looks away, down at his hands, surprised he feels shame and shows it to the archangel without any form of restraint. "I never said that," he accuses, his voice as harsh and grating as he can make it. "But you here, being alive, it's messing with me. I hate what it's doing to me," Dean admits, wishing he had said nothing at all and afraid of the consequences the second after it leaves his mouth.

Gabriel's across the room and it feels like a million miles away to him, but he doesn't do anything about it, cause if there's one thing he doesn't deserve, one thing he can't have, one thing his mind would be playing tricks with him on... it's this.

It's Gabriel, no doubt about it, because Gabriel always kept that one place in his heart that he couldn't fill up with anything else.

"I'm not here to judge, kiddo," Gabriel smiles in that graceful, easygoing way of his and Dean, not for the first time, wonders if he could have this. Because if Gabriel isn't his enemy, then who is he? And more importantly...

What could he be?

Gabriel walks back over to the bed and picks up the previous conversation, "I've been surrounded by humans for too long now, and I have begun to understand. But somehow... I will never be able to read you. You're different, Dean. You draw me towards you without you even realizing it."

And I'll be damned if that doesn't piss me off sometimes. But he's still smiling.

Dean finally looks up from his hands, useless and unmoving in his lap, when Gabriel suddenly takes both of them this time, one in each of his own, and runs his thumb along them again before flipping them over, palms up. He seems to be studying the lines etched into his skin with great concentration for the next few minutes, but reveals nothing. Dean merely watches, himself still and silent and curious, but not curious enough to break the serenity of the moment.

There are days few and far between where he isn't stressing out over something, and Gabriel seeming to be his remedy is something he can barely wrap his head around, though is smart enough to appreciate and smile somewhat at.

And then the archangel looks back up at him, still kneeling, still smiling, and it's everything Dean can do not to fall forward into him, not to force Gabriel to make something more out of the day... with him.

"You may think your life will be short and bloody, Deano, but having someone to spend it with," he lets go of one of his hands and presses it instead against Dean's forehead, running his fingers along his hairline and dipping down to his cheek and ear, tugging the latter playfully and running his thumb possessively on the surface of the former, "can make it feel like the longest out there."

Dean scans over every inch of Gabriel's face and the archangel allows him; his eyes hold a smile that promises too many things that the Winchester wants, because he's tried the apple pie life before and it hasn't worked, going all the way, but somehow with Gabriel, he doesn't think he'll have to go all the way.

Hunting and being with Gabriel isn't a choice. He doesn't have to choose. Gabriel's merely giving himself over...

And Dean finds that he so desperately wants him. It's no question.

He leans down to kiss Gabriel, giving him the go ahead and the archangel wraps his arms around his neck, let's Dean pull his smaller body up onto the bed and surprisingly, doesn't feel like complaining, because Dean's arms wrapped around him seem to be the only thing he wants and can focus on. He's flipped onto his back and Dean smiles gloriously down at him, his hands finding themselves pressed tightly into Gabe's, fingers entangled blissfully as he leans down to kiss him once more, their bodies rubbing against one another in achingly slow though pleasurable motions, tongues pressing for entrance simultaneously, Dean's heart beating furious and fast as a racehorse and Gabriel swallows, lifts his hands up to find purchase somewhere on the hunter.

Gabriel takes his time enjoying the immensity of the beauty of Dean: his soft, silky skin and a smile that Gabriel feels is his prize; short, spiky hair and the sweat that pours softly from the hunter's skin tasting strangely of cinnamon. He pushes himself up more confidently, deeper into Dean, every nerve on fire, his fingers and mouth throbbing and his need for all of Dean to consume him frantic and perfect.

Dean pants deliciously, his body rubbing up against Gabriel's, sending pleasurable jolts up his spine and throughout his entire form; a human intoxicating him so much that he feels he will be jolted right up out of his vessel in one fluid motion.

He grounds himself, his fingers shaking, finding Dean's belt among the spread of limbs and outpouring of want and joy, and yanking the article off, throwing it down to the floor below. He wraps his arms once more around Dean's neck and puts all of his energy into another kiss, expressing everything in one simple gesture. You can have me. As long as you let me have you.

Gabriel screams, unbelievably happy, in Dean's mouth a minute later, wanting to push the intense moment to the longest time frame he could, rather than waste it all in mere seconds. His wings, though invisible to the hunter, retract abruptly, powerfully, sending a feather flying into Dean's hair; Gabriel smiles up at him, brushing it out. He's somewhat disappointed that Dean can't see his wings, primarily the lack of his would be reaction, though he's still lost in a haze and can't focus on much but his wings tingling with pleasure and satisfaction, settling down gently on either side of him, stretching and curling in unpredictable motions.

Dean's head drops down onto Gabriel's chest in apparent exhaustion for a moment, and then he lifts it back up to kiss him, smiling sleepily against his mouth. He lets the archangel's adoration soak into his skin as he falls, with his archangel's guidance, to the other side of the bed, Gabriel's wing wrapping around him protectively.

The hunter is slowly but surely drifting off into the realm of unconsciousness, but he can still feel Gabriel wrapping around him, despite his smaller stature, with a grace that leaves Dean breathless and positive he's made the right choice. After a while, drifting perilously between sleep and a confusion he doesn't understand, he lifts his heavy head up, glancing around the room blearily, feeling a warm body pressed up tightly against his own, igniting his soul in bliss.

Gabriel kisses his forehead in reassurance, "Go to sleep, tiger. I'll be waiting for the morning with you." And it's then that Dean lays back down confidently and sleeps alongside his archangel.

Apple pie life checked off on his list.

FIN