"This is stupid," Gabriel complains. "There's no such thing as magic and there's no way I'm going to go to that stupid ball. I can't even dance."

Castiel—if that's even his real name—rolls his eyes. "There is such thing. I would know because I'm your appointed fairy."

"So you're my fairy-godmother?"

The other man sputters, "I-I am not a 'fairy god-mother'. I am a fairy guardian."

"Well you've been doing a pretty lousy job," Gabriel mutters, folding his arms across his chest. His dirty, gross chest that's dirty because his stupid family made him the designated servant while Michael and Lucifer and Raphael all get to dance around the town and have fun. Lucifer spends a lot of time stalking Prince Sam, but to each his own.

Castiel frowns. "Lousy job? I'm trying to get you to go to the ball and you're wasting time arguing with me about it."

"Where were you for the first 20 years of my life?" Gabriel says, pointing a finger at the other man. "I've been stuck cleaning up after my stupid family for so long, being yelled at and insulted and mistreated and NOW you show up? To take me to a ball? I would have settled for, oh I don't know, not living in this shitty house anymore."

The fairy has the good sense to look a little bit ashamed. "But—"

"But nothing. My family is at the ball anyway so it's not like I could go," Gabriel says.

"It's a masquerade," Castiel offers.

"Yeah well, that's not helpful when my rags—seriously, you're inviting me to a ball but you couldn't have gotten me some slacks when my spare pair ripped last month—are a dead giveaway as to who I am."

"What rags?" the fair asks and Gabriel does not like the smug tone of his voice. He looks down at his pants only to see the ripped and dirty threads are gone. In their place is a pair of pressed, white, freakin' pristine dress pants.

"What the hell?!"

Castiel blinks and there's a mirror in front of Gabriel that shows him it's not just the pants that've changed. No, he in a full suit, his skin is clean, and his hair looks perfect. There's a white mask covering his eyes and a good half of his face, tasteful though, not covered in feathers and sequins like the one Luci had on earlier. "Wha—"
Castiel squints at him. "I'm a fairy, you ass. Now here are your rules: Leave by midnight, don't do anything reckless, and wear this ring at all times." He holds out a silver ring in his palm.

"First of all, midnight? What is this middle school? Worst curfew EVER. Second, me? Reckless? Whatever could you mean?" Gabriel says. "And finally…ring? What the what? Why do I have to wear it?"

"It's just—it's a magic ring Gabriel," Castiel groans. "Can't you just wear it?"

The man takes it from his fairy guardian. "Fine. But I've always been more into gold than silver."

The ball is dumb. Dean is dumb. His parents are dumb. Everything is dumb and there's a dude in a purple feathery monstrosity of a mask, all decked out with glitter and sequins, practically eye-fucking him from across the room.

Sam hates everything.

He slouches in his chair—throne Bobby would be quick to remind him. Bobby's the worst teacher ever mostly because he doesn't let either of the princes get away with anything. This night sucks because he's supposed to be finding his Match and he just really wants to curl up in his room and read. They're trying to find someone for Dean too, and he's taken to the attention like a duck to water, of course. He's been dancing with men and women all night, earning smiles from their parents but Sam knows the truth. Dean isn't interested in any of them because he seems to think he's destined to Match with a fairy, more specifically a 'dark-haired, blue-eyed knockout'.

Sam doesn't put much weight in it because they'd asked the same soothsayer who his Match would be—they were 10 and 14 respectively and both still believed in prophecy and magic—and her only answer was a laugh and a mumbled 'surely not?' into her crystal ball. Whatever the hell that meant. Miss Missouri was always strange.

He just wants the night to end so he can forget it ever happened. The purple disaster is still eying him and Sam panics when he makes his way through the crowd. The prince jumps to his feet and rushes toward the garden. He makes it just out of the doorway when he crashes into someone.

"HEY! Watch it, dick," the man gripes, dusting off his pants. "These are loaners."

Sam just gapes because the smaller body he crashed into is stunning in all white, the gentle frown on his lips, mesmerizing. He feels a warmth in his chest and a pull at his heart and he realizes with a start who it is.

The man is still brushing himself off. "What, cat got your tongue? I'm not good enough for an apol-ohmygod." He finally seemed to realize whom he'd crashed into. A prince is easily distinguishable, even at a masquerade ball. "I am so sorry. Oh Christ, I can't—you're—son of a bitch."

"You—"

"Yeah, I'm—shit, I better go right? I can't believe I called one of the princes a 'dick'," the man sputters. "Wow, please don't have me thrown in a dungeon or anything. It was a—"

Sam's heart beats recklessly fast as he closes the distance between them, stooping to plant a kiss on the man's still speaking lips.

"Oh."

The prince can feel his face heating as he flushes, but he can't really bring himself to care. The warmth in his chest is burning hot and he feels like he's got a thousand fireflies flying around in his stomach. The man reaches up and touches his lips. "I don't—"

It's then that the gaudy, purple mess emerges from the ballroom. Sam's Match takes one look and the color drains from what the prince can see of his face. He snatches the man's hand but he pulls away with a muffled 'I'm sorry' and leaves Sam standing with nothing but the silver ring he'd accidentally pulled from the man's finger.

"Oh my god, oh my god, CASTIEL GET DOWN HERE!" Gabriel yells, though he's not exactly where the fairy realm is located. "OR OVER HERE! I don't care just get here." He's halfway through his 6-mile trek home from the palace and his fine clothes have disappeared, his ring is missing, and he just wants to be mojo'd home back to his shitty life that he never should have bothered leaving in the first place.

"I really hate you, you know," he sniffs. "If it weren't for you, I never would have gone and—and he kissed me, Castiel. Sam, prince of the kingdom, freaking kissed me!"

"Did you kiss him back?" Castiel asks as he appears next to Gabriel.

The man laughs. "That's what you open with? Not, 'Sorry for ruining your life, Gabriel.' I didn't have the chance. Luci came bursting out of the ballroom and he—he could have realized."

"How has your life been ruined?"

Gabriel stops and glares at the fairy. "I was content before. Not happy, but not totally miserable. I had no idea what I was missing and now? Now I know exactly. I'm never going to forget the feel of his lips against mine or the way my chest felt all tight and hot or how it felt to be—to be a real person for once. Someone looked at me like I mattered."

Castiel floats in front of him, his head tilted to the side. "Isn't that a good thing?"

"NO! It's fucking terrible because I don't get to have those things, Castiel," Gabriel cries. And shit, he actually crying. "I don't get to be the one that rides off into the sunset. I'll be the one cleaning up after the fairy-tale wedding. Now send me home so I can finish my chores before my family gets home."

He ignores the look on Castiel's face and when he blinks he's back in his kitchen.

"Sam, this is ridiculous."

"No, it's not Dean. He was my Match. I felt it in my bones, in my soul," Sam counters.

"Someone's awful poetic today, Sam," Bobby says as he enters the classroom. "What's goin' on?"

Dean makes a face. "Sam thinks he found his Match at the ball, but he doesn't know the guy's name or even what he really looks like. All he's got is some stupid ring."

Sam fingers the silver ring that he's attached to a chain around his neck. "He was my match, Bobby. I felt it in my heart." The teacher just looks between the two of them before shaking his head slowly.

"Alright, let's find him, idjits. I've got an idea."

ATTN SUBJECTS:
PRINCE SAMUEL SEEKS MYSTERY GUEST FROM BALL

ANY INFORMATION WILL BE REWARDED

PLEASE BE READY FOR THE ROYAL GUARD TO VISIT YOUR HOME

THANK YOU

"What the hell does that mean?" Michael asks.

"It obviously means Prince Samuel met his Match at the ball!" Lucifer exclaims. "I wonder if it was me!"

"Fat chance," Gabriel huffs under his breath. He'd seen the look of horror on the Prince's face when Lucifer emerged from the ballroom.

"What was that, Gabe?" Raphael says, spitting out his brother's name like a curse.

"Nothing, brother," Gabriel says with a forced smile. He jumps when there's a pounding on the door. He scrambles to answer it and nearly has a heart attack when it's Prince Samuel on the other side. He bows quickly, hiding his face and the flush there even though he knows the soot probably does well to cover it for him.

Lucifer looks as though he's about to faint. "Your highness! Welcome—you! Get out of the way! Back to the kitchen." He aims a smile at the prince as he pushes his brother away.

Gabriel feels like crying.

He waits in the kitchen, barely listening to the conversation. He idly scrubs at a pot, sweeps what he's already swept and generally hates his entire existence. "What are you doing in here?"

He jumps at the voice and brandishes his broom in Castiel's direction. "What are you doing here?"

"I asked you first."

"Oh shut up," Gabriel grumbles. "Prince Sam is out there."

Castiel frowns. "Again, why are you in here?"

Before he can answer, the door burst open. He can hear Lucifer's protests as Sam walks into the kitchen. "He's just a servant—there's no way—"

"I said every man in the kingdom," the prince says firmly. "And I meant every one." He smiles at Gabriel and the smaller man can hear his own heart pounding in his ears. "Hello."

"Uh—hi."

Sam knows the second he walks through the door that his Match is here. The man who greets him carries the air of someone who's been put down his whole life, but there's something else the prince can't shake. He half listens to the other man, Lucifer, focusing on the pull of the warmth in his chest. The ring doesn't fit any of the men in the room and Sam finds his feet bringing him in the direction the servant had vanished. His heart races the second he lays eyes on him again and he knows. He smiles and the other man returns it cautiously.

"Hello."

"Uh—hi."

"I'm Prince Samuel, and you are?"

The man hesitates. "G-Gabriel." He looks over Sam's shoulder and flinches. The prince turns just in time to catch the death glare coming from Lucifer. He opens his mouth to speak but a strange man appears next to Gabriel and smiles warmly.

"No need to worry, sire. I've got this one," the man says. He leans down to whisper something into Gabriel's ear and his Match's eyes go wide. The man snaps his fingers and Sam finds himself alone with Gabriel.

The prince takes a step toward the other man and extends his hand, silver ring sitting on his palm. "I think—I think this is yours," he says, ignoring the way his hand shakes with the offering.

"I—" Gabriel slips the thing onto his finger and it fits perfectly. "Thanks, though technically I think you pulled it off my finger. Which is stealing," he says haughtily even though he's blushing.

Sam laughs and is rewarded with a small smile in return. "So I know this is kind of sudden and everything," he begins only to be cut off by Gabriel throwing himself into his arms and planting a kiss on his lips. When they part, Sam lowers the other man to the floor, unaware of when he even lifted the smaller body. "Well, being on the other side of that is kind of refreshing, actually."

"Oh, so you go around kissing everyone out of the blue? I'm hurt," Gabriel teases.

"You're the first and last person I ever want to kiss, Gabriel," Sam answers and he means it. The warmth in his chest blooms anew as he kisses his Match once more.

When they get married, Gabriel insists that Castiel attend. He is, after all, his fairy guardian and the reason any of this is possible.

And if they seat him next to Dean, it seems like a coincidence to everyone but Miss Missouri.

THE END