So this is my first attempt to write with this shipper. It probably sucks – but don't blame me, at least I tried.
As the hands took off his tuxedo, Sam tried to keep his mind on focus. Everything was like a blur and nothing really made sense - the last couple of days had passed by in the blink of an eye. His knees failed him and the Winchester boy fell in the bed, trying to remember how exactly he had got himself on that mess.
It was something about "annual pilgrimage" he and Dean did to Vegas every years - which was basically the way they had to keep surviving, since neither had official jobs and they weren't really paid to save the world every other day. For some stupid reason (he couldn't bring himself to remember why now, his mind was too dizzy feeling the teeth around his neck as the tie was unmade) he decided to take some time off, maybe camp in the desert. Considering he lived in a car, spend four days in a tent was probably something really stupid, but truth was, Sam wasn't THAT over Dean yet, he still needed some time to settle things down.
Now he was starting to wonder if that decision was actually his.
Obviously, things didn't go exactly according to the plane; the car broke, it started to rain and there was no way to call Dean, because he decided to stick himself in a hole with no coverage whatsoever. That was when another car pulled up - and the driver was someone Sam knew all to well.
Pasting the "I thought you were dead!", "What the hell are you doing here?" and "what's up with down there?", they ended up... catching up very quickly. That was things started getting confused, because Sam couldn't tell for sure what happened between the night in the back of the car and the moment he found himself getting yelled at Dean, in front of an altar, in a so-called church in Vegas.
Not that it even matter now, because there was a very skilled tongue working on very sensitive spots of his body in that exact same moment. He left out a moan that would be heard in the entire hotel, and his spouse left a giggle. Sam opened his eyes and looked down, as he felt his pants being taken and his legs being spread - that was when he saw who said spouse was.
"You better bite that pillow," Gabriel said, leaning over him. Sam left out something that was either a groan or a cry...
...And that was when Dean woke him up.
"Dude, are you okay?" he asked, with a concerned look. They were back at their own hotel room, two days after the whole mess with Becky and the cross-road demon. "Still having nightmares with the wedding thing?"
"Yeah", Sam answered, weakly. He cleaned the sweat off his forehead, his pants feeling incredibly tight.
It was related to a wedding, yes; Sam just couldn't say for sure if it was a nightmare... or a wet dream.