Rated: M
Contrary to popular belief, Gabriel wasn't really into dirty talk when he was in bed.
(To no one's surprise, Crowley was perhaps a bit too fond of it.)
Gabriel was fine with Crowley talking, just so long as he didn't expect him to reciprocate.
Talking (for Gabriel, at least), meant lying.
He'd done too much lying already. He's hurt people and killed people and abandoned people and lying is the root of all his evil, and isn't that ironic, considering.
So, maybe, this…whatever this was with Crowley, was his penance.
(He's an angel and Crowley's a demon, and they're most decidedly not lovers, or friends, or anything really. Once, when Gabe tried to term them as 'snuggle-buddies', Crowley fucked him hard enough that he couldn't see straight, all the while, whispering to him sinful threats -promises?- of what would happen if he ever, ever used that term again.)
Gabriel's fingers tangled in the sheets, as Crowley did…something with a roll of his hips, and his (soft, gasped, pleading) "Oh Father" was drowned out by Crowley's growl of "Bloody fuck, angel".
This, right here, right now, all sin and sweat and regrets, Crowley whispering temptations in his ear and taking his Father's name in vain, all for a quick fuck- this was his penance.