Summary: Plagued by a life-threatening condition that has forced him to acknowledge the reality of his mortality, twenty-three year old Gabriel Milton has all but given up on the possibility of leading a worthwhile life, much less having any chance at a healthy relationship. Cue one Sam Winchester: bright, hopeful, success-bound. Reluctant as he is to begin something he might not be able to finish, Gabriel soon finds that he can't scare Sam away so easily and, what's even more alarming, he doesn't exactly want to.
(This is also co-written! So forgive the wonky styles! We don't own the boys!)
MAIN Pairings: Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Adam Milligan/Anna Milton
WARNINGS: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. Alternate Universe - Human, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Big Brother Lucifer
"What's all this, then?"
Gabriel stepped into the petite coffee shop to find that his usual corner table had already been disturbed-the chair was pulled out ever so slightly, and a newspaper was neatly folded beside a large, steaming drink-yet nobody was sitting there. After giving the place a quick once-over, he sighed in mild frustration; everything was already taken, just his luck. For a few moments, the blond simply hung back, clutching his laptop to his side as he waited for a table to open up. Everyone seemed pretty set in their places today, chatting excitedly amongst themselves between unnecessarily loud slurps. Things were looking grim.
However, Gabriel wasn't one to give up easily. Eyes narrowed just a bit, he kept tabs on his spot-yes, he had every right to refer to it as such, he'd been sitting there almost every week day for the last half a year-as he headed for the bar.
"Excuse me, but who's sitting over there?" he asked matter-of-factly, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the corner table. The barista, a young man named Samandriel, who'd come to know Gabriel relatively well as the months slipped by, laughed a little. "You know nobody sits there but you."
"Exactly! That's why I wanna know what wiseguy stole my spot, so I can give him a piece of my mind." Gabriel tapped his fingers impatiently against the counter, his dramatics pulling another laugh from Samandriel's lips.
"The 'wiseguy' is actually sitting over there," the barista motioned to a table near the window, occupied by a young, but notably tall, brunet man, "and he came in about five minutes before you did. Asked me to get the table ready, even knew your favorite tea."
"Seriously?" Gabriel looked from Samandriel to the brunet stranger, then, pulling his sleeves back as if he really planned to start a fight, he set his laptop down-"Guard this with your life!"-and headed over to his unknown admirer.
"You! Yes, you! Would you like to tell me what that is all about?" Cue more dramatic pointing at the corner table.
The young man looked up from the book he was reading with an expression of mild panic. "Uhh…" His eyes darted back and forth, from Gabriel to the door and back, as if gauging the distance and time it would take to get out of there. "I… I just wanted to do something nice," he ducked his head, and a blush spread over his cheeks, "you're always sitting over there alone, and I thought that, maybe, you might like it to be set up when you got here?" He grinned nervously. "I'm sorry if I did something wrong."
Gabriel, genuinely surprised by the stranger's sincerity, was struck speechless for a few seconds, an occasion that did not occur often. Then, he cleared his throat, retaliating with, "Really, you don't have to apologize; it was but a minor offence. You see, you folded the newspaper like this," he took a napkin from the table to demonstrate, "when I actually prefer it folded in the opposite direction." He refolded the napkin accordingly and set it down by the tall man's drink. "No harm done." Chuckling to himself, Gabriel smoothed back his hair and proceeded to head over to his own table.
The young man hesitated a moment, running his hands through his hair before he half-stood from his seat and practically shouted, "W-wait!" Then, he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "I kind of wanted to see what you're always working on over there. Are you a student over at the college?" His smile was open, honest, and friendly, even as he gnawed his bottom lip with obvious nervousness.
Snorting a little, Gabriel took his seat, pushing out a chair for the stranger with the toe of his shoe. "Nah, I'm not a student, I'm a musician, and I'm writing songs; it's kind of what we do." He moved to open up his laptop, only to realize it was still at the counter with Samandriel. Following an extremely exaggerated growl, Gabriel asked, "Say, Gigantor, you think you can go get my laptop from the barista, since you haven't sat yet and all?"
The young man, who was indeed quite tall, sheepishly went to fetch the offending piece of equipment. When he returned, he set it down gently in front of Gabriel and took the seat right across from him with a smile. "My name's Sam; uh, Samandriel told me yours," his blush made a grand comeback, "I know, that's kind of creepy, sorry. You just seem so intense while you're working; I could not help but be nosy."
"Hey, it's not everyday I have a polite stalker," Gabriel rested his hands on his closed laptop, grinning toothily at Sam, "How much did you have to pay him to dig up dirt on me, hm? Oh, I do hope he didn't tell you too much-it'd be a shame to have to kill a good buddy, and a stranger with a pretty face on the same day. Talk about putting a damper on my week, 'ey Sam?" He liked the way the other's name rolled off of his tongue, though he could not quite put his finger on why. It was a bit short, but, no matter-practically a nickname genie, Gabriel could fix that easily.
"I did no such thing," Sam put his huge hands up in defense, "He was quite chatty about your preferred drink and more than willing to help me set your table up." He, too, grinned. "When I asked him if he had anything else to say about you, he told me that you were charming, and that I should just talk to you, instead of sitting over at my usual spot and 'mooning' over you. His words, not mine." He laughed. "Glad you think I'm cute too, though. That's one thing he wouldn't tell me, and I didn't want to get punched for hitting on a straight guy." The words came easier, and his nervousness decreased the longer he sat there. Something about finally taking the initiative brought out his more charming side.
As Sam spoke, Gabriel glanced in the direction of the bar and gave Samandriel, who was wiggling his eyebrows encouragingly, the evil eye. Then, lips pursed slightly, he turned back to Sam, his fingers tapping in rhythm with the music that faintly played in the coffee shop. "So, Samandriel's trying to play matchmaker, is he? Ha! I'll be sure to send an old hag his way in thanks." He reached over and grabbed his drink, taking a fairly large swig of it. "Mm, got it sweetened the right amount, I'll give you two that. By the way, don't let your guard down yet; I may not be as straight as you feared, but I still might punch you!"
Sam looked Gabriel over appraisingly. "I'm not sure you've got the stuff to land a punch on me," he smirked, "You're what, a foot shorter than I am? I'm sure all I'd have to do is keep you at arm's length, and you'd be helpless." He raised one eyebrow, "And sending him a hag? That's a terribly rude thing to do to a friend that's trying to set you up with me. I'll be sending him thank you letters for eternity for helping me get up the courage to talk to someone as good-looking as you." Sam took a sip of his own drink, watching Gabriel from over the rim of his cup.
"Ya know, I'm no expert, but, if you're attempting to ask me out, I'm pretty sure you're doing it wrong." The look Gabriel gave Sam was nothing short of challenging. "Insulting my height? That was low, especially for someone of your size and stature. Besides, I'm not too sure you'll be thanking him quite as much as you think; he basically set you up for failure." With a shrug, the blonde opened up his laptop and switched it on, the blue glow of the start screen lighting up his face.
Sam laughed, "Who said I wanted to ask you out right now?" He cocked a brow, "Maybe I'm just trying to lure you into a false sense of security before springing the question on you later?" He shrugged, "Either way, I really would like to get to know you. You've got this whole 'mystery man' vibe going on in your little batcave over here." Then, he laughed again, "Anyway, I'm the freak here; your height is perfect."
"Oooh, nice save," Gabriel glanced up from his laptop, typing even as he met Sam's eyes, "maybe you're not as much of a dick as I originally thought. Then again, I'm not really one to talk." His fingers stilled, and he slanted the screen down just a tad, giving the brunet his attention. "You want to know about me, huh? Well, it might come as a surprise, but I'm not exactly the open book I sometimes make myself out to be. How about you start with some questions, yeah, kiddo? I'll shoot some your way as well, to be fair. Can't let you have all the fun, after all."
"I would never dream of denying you your fun," Sam took a sip from his coffee. "How about this: we alternate questions. You know, I ask, then you, then back to me, and so on, and so forth. Sound good?" he laughed, "Just pretend we're...speed dating! I've got to leave for class in half an hour anyway. So fire away, I've got nothing to hide." He folded his arms on the table and assumed an attentive expression.
"Yeah, all right." Gabriel leaned in, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thought. "Well, how about you tell me your age? Gotta start somewhere, right, and it's always better to get the basics out of the way." He chuckled a little, mentally crossing his fingers that Sam was older than his boyish face suggested. He'd mentioned having to go to class, so he had to be in college, right?
Sam looked down at the table for a moment before his eyes flicked back up to meet Gabriel's. He licked his lips and gave a sheepish grin, "I'm 19. This is my second year of pre-law. What about you? How old are you?" There was a hopeful look on his face, as if asking Gabriel to not be put off by his youth.
"See, you tried to play it cool by using your height, but I saw it in your eyes; you're still a baby." Gabriel clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, watching Sam with playful curiosity. "How old am I? Heh, well, how old do you think I am? I'll give you three guesses, then we move on to the next question."
"A baby? Really?" Sam rolled his eyes. "You can't be too much older than I am." he eyeballed Gabriel suspiciously. "Tell me if I need to go higher or lower, 22?"
Gabriel grunted and shook his head, but didn't give Sam any indicator of whether he was too low or too high. It was a game to him, and he was going to milk this stranger for all he could. Honestly, he wasn't even looking to get a date out of this, he just needed a distraction from reality for a little while.
"You gotta give me something here, man." Sam folded his arms and made a frustrated pout. "Fine. Next one up then, 23?"
"Congratulations," the blond slow clapped for Sam, leaning back in his seat, "you didn't even have to use your third chance. Beginners luck, I say, but nevermind. Anyway, three years may not seem like much, but I'm still your elder in one way or another! I'm sure I've had a lot of," he paused, rolling his shoulders a little, "experiences that you haven't, so...Next question! Got any siblings?"
"I've got two. An older brother, he's your age, and a younger half brother. The legacy of my father's misspent youth." Sam chuckled. "Adam's a good kid though, wants to become a doctor. Dean? I don't even know what Dean wants to do." He shrugged his shoulders. "So, what made you get into music and songwriting?" It's not that he didn't want to know about Gabriel's family, but it wasn't as important as gathering more information on the man himself.
Tapping his fingers against his chin, Gabriel considered Sam's question for a moment before answering, "Music has just been...one of the few consistencies in my life, cliche as that sounds. I mean, you can write songs about almost anything, in pretty much any situation, ya know? One time, I got inspired by a toaster." The grin that followed made it hard to tell whether or not Gabriel was joking; then again, that's how it was with half of the things that came out of his mouth. That's how he wanted it. "Why'd you decide to go into law?"
The noise that came out of Sam's mouth was not a giggle, it was a manly chuckle. "A toaster? I'd love to hear that one." At Gabriel's question, he leaned back in his seat. "Well… it's about as far away from what my dad wanted me to do as possible. Dad wanted me to go into something I could do with my hands-welding, carpentry, mechanic, things like that. I've always wanted to do something worthwhile though. Defend the innocent, that kind of thing." He made a humming noise low in his throat. "So, blood orange tea? Where'd you acquire the taste for that?"
"Well, I had to order something-I practically live at this coffee shop and, the irony of it is, I can't even drink coffee." He reached forward and grabbed his tea, taking a gulp of it and then wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "Wh-What I mean is, I guess I just never really acquired a taste for the stuff. It's just a bunch of bitter beans that stunt your growth and, as you can see, I'm short enough as it is." Gabriel played off the slight stutter he'd let slip at the start of his sentence with the end remark; casually, he ran his fingers through his hair, readjusting the part. "I swear, if you tell me coffee is your drink of choice, and it actually has the opposite effect, I'm going to be so pissed. What is your favorite thing to order here, anyway?"
Curiosity lit a fire in Sam's brain, but he reined it in and filed the tidbit away. No such thing as useless information, after all. "I actually can't stand coffee. Dean drinks it black every morning." He hummed thoughtfully, "So far, my favorite's been their Chai, but I'm working my way through the menu. I was so surprised to find this place had decent tea supply instead of just coffee." He took a sip of his drink. "The one I'm having today is uh… what did they call it… A lapsang something or the other. It tastes like a campfire," he made a face, "it's almost a little too strong for me. What about you? Have you tried anything else or did you just find a good thing and stick with it."
"Generally, I stick to it, but, sometimes, when I'm feeling extra daring, I get something new," Gabriel replied, twisting a strand of hair around his finger, "How long have you been swooning over me from afar, hm?"
Sam grinned, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "I've been coming to this place for about six months, but I only noticed you sitting by your lonesome in the last two, and I've been trying to gather up the courage to talk to you for the last two weeks. That's when I hounded Samandriel about your usual." He chuckled, "One of the others who works here, Meg? Told me not to bother, that you were antisocial and rude. I'm glad I decided to not listen to her." He took another sip of his tea. "So, about your music; who sings it when you're done?"
"I sing it, of course," Gabriel proclaimed proudly, cocking a brow at Sam, "do you really think I'd write for someone else? Hell no! They'd just screw it up. My music is basically all I have, I'm not about to take that chance." His answer had come off as just short of defensive, however, his mannerisms were slacked, as if purposely trying to cancel out the passion expressed by his words. "I haven't exactly performed anything yet-not officially anyway-if that's what you're asking, but trust me, buddy-boy, I'm working on it!" He crossed his arms, fingers tapping against his upper arm. Then, casually, "Do you sing?"
That question startled a laugh out of Sam, and he winked, "Only in the shower and when no one can hear me in the car. The acoustics suck in my dorm room." He laughed again. "I could always give it a try though. My ex told me I had a good voice, but it was never something I thought I could do." He leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful expression and chewed on his bottom lip, trying to think of another question. "All right, favorite movie genre?"
"Comedy, no competition; I love watching people make absolute fools out of themselves for the sake of pulling even a single laugh from their audience." There was a little twinkle in Gabriel's eyes, suggesting that he was probably recalling some fond memory pertaining to the subject. "What about you? Please don't tell me you're one of those drama guys, those things can be downright depressing."
"Dramas are good in moderation," Sam protested. "My favorite?" he smiled sheepishly, "Kaiju movies. You know, Godzilla, Mothra, King Ghidorah; that sort of thing." The took a quick look at his watch. "Nuts. I've gotta get going to class. Maybe I'll see you here tomorrow?" There was an overeager hopefulness to his expression.
"Hey, that's your call, kid; you know where to find me." Gabriel waved him off, pushing his laptop screen up once again. "Now, go on, get outta here before you're late for your fancy-smancy law class."
Sam flashed him a blinding smile and jogged from the small shop. In his excitement, he realized he'd left his notebook behind, but, by then, class had already started, and it was too late. He stared at the professor with a look of undisguised boredom and thunked his head on the desk, content to just ignore this class for today.