It didn't take long for Ruby to pull him aside. So much for quietly freaking out in the corner like he'd planned.

"Hi…you stink."

As a response, she just giggled inanely. "I made a bet with…um…girl, over there…to see who could drink more while you were in the closet." She chuckled to herself, lifting up her hand to show a five dollar bill, which she rolled between her fingers before stuffing it into her bra. "I won."

"I can see that," Sam said. He may have been tipsy, but definitely not too tipsy to see what Ruby was up to. Especially not when she leered at him and slowly backed him against the wall.

"So…" she began with a smile, curling her tongue around her teeth. "What exactly did you do in the closet?" She giggled again.

"Uh…" Sam said, Ruby's sudden proximity making him more uncomfortable than he already had been.

She took his non-answer as a signal to keep asking. "Did you make out? Huh?" Ruby laughed again, placing a hand against her mouth in what looked like a semi-well-disguised attempt to stop herself from throwing up.

She was leaning closer now, practically touching Sam, who had his back pressed up as close as it could get to the wall. She reached up on tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "'Cause if you did? That's hot."

And just like that she was right there, all up in his space, stinking of alcohol and about to kiss him.

"Whoa, whoa, Ruby…" he said, stopping her, hands on her shoulders and pushing her away. "I think you need to lie down." That was the best excuse he could think of right now. Double whammy with 'I need some fresh air' made her back off, and left Sam to escape outdoors.

He pushed through the crowd of people, unheeding of their glares after him as he pushed them out of his way. He practically ran.

Outside was much cooler, when Sam finally made it there. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, and still more fell from the sky lazily. He took a deep breath – the cold air, it turned out, was exactly what he needed to clear his head.

"Sam?"

He turned around abruptly, following the sound of the voice he knew only too well. "Are you alright?"

He probably didn't look alright.

"Fine," he said, face drawn into a scowl as he looked at Gabriel. Before he knew it, he was stalking towards Gabriel, the scowl still on his face. He bore down on him like a bloodhound, and soon the smaller boy was pushed up against the wall, with Sam towering above him.

He was going to say something profound here, say something to Gabriel about how he felt. But when he tried to speak, nothing came out. Maybe it was because he didn't know how he felt. Or maybe it was because Gabriel looked so pathetic and scared, standing there in Sam's shadow. Either way, he stood there for God knows how long, looking like an idiot and saying nothing.

"Sam…"

"Just-" he interrupted, holding a hand up to stop Gabriel. He sighed. "I'll see you Monday."

Sam didn't look him in the eye as he spoke, but it was irrelevant, because he turned and began to walk away from the party without another word.

"Sam!" Gabriel's voice cut through the winter air. "Dude, we took my car!"

"I'm walking," he called back without a thought, and without turning around.

Gabriel was fully expecting not to see Sam on Monday.

The way he'd acted at the party convinced him that the kid would avoid him like the plague when they got back to school. So Gabriel was pleasantly surprised to see Sam walking towards him that morning with a huge grin on his face.

"Morning," Sam said jovially, handing Gabriel one of the take-out cups he held.

Gabriel sniffed it suspiciously, glancing at Sam with one eyebrow raised. "Vanilla latte?"

"Your favorite," he replied with a smile. He seemed far too cheery, even for a regular Monday morning.

"Thanks," he said, taking a huge sip. Sam was right, it was his favorite. Perfect temperature, too. But Sam was doing this to distract him, he must have been.

"Hey, kiddo," he addressed Sam, thinking twice about reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you…remember what happened on Saturday night?"

Sam looked straight into his eyes, and scoffed. "'Course I do."

Then why the hell are you so calm?

"Come on, Gabe. I wasn't that drunk."

Gabriel believed him – he would have called him on it if it hadn't been for that lingering, meaningful look he'd given him, held just long enough to let Gabriel know he wasn't telling him everything.

"Oh, shoot," Sam said, checking his watch. "Time to go. But hey," he began to walk away backwards, "I'm tutoring you tonight, right?"

"Um…yeah, I guess." Gabriel just watched as Sam walked away, baffled. He was acting totally normal, which made this whole situation not normal. Not if his reaction the other night was anything to go by.

They walked home together, and Sam was normal, and it wasn't awkward. They talked about the new CD Gabriel had bought, and it wasn't awkward. When they got to Gabriel's house, and he dished out sodas like normal, it wasn't awkward.

But apparently Sam was waiting to unleash all the pent-up awkwardness until they were in a private place.

"You kissed me," he said bluntly, as soon as Gabriel's bedroom door was shut. There was silence then, and Gabriel froze.

Gabriel turned to face him, with an unreadable expression; maybe a little cocky, a little surprised. "You kissed me back." Smartass.

Sam's face settled into a scowl. "Why'd you do it?"

Gabriel simply smiled, and turned back around. He sat on the ground by his bed, legs crossed. "I don't know about you, hotshot, but that's what I tend to do during that particular game…"

"Be serious. Why?"

He looked Sam in the eye, a sort of challenge. "How does 'for shits and giggles' sound?"

Sam looked pissed now. "Could you once in your life be serious for just a few seconds?" He asked again: "Why?"

Gabriel sighed, and his expression fell. He was serious now, believe it or not, and his gaze was penetrating as he looked back up at Sam. "Because…I wanted to." He sounded genuine.

Sam was speechless, not having expected that answer. "You…what?"

"Don't start! You wanted to, too."

Sam blinked rapidly a few times. "I did? Since when?"

Gabriel took a deep breath, and explained to Sam like he was talking to a petulant toddler. "Nobody kisses like that and doesn't want to."

Bullshit. "Yeah, well…"

"Look," Gabe said, completely serious now. "We know what happened. Stop living in the past. I want to know what we're going to do about it now."

"Do about it?" Sam huffed and rolled his shoulders, looking for something witty to say, or at least something that would deter this conversation, which he suddenly found himself not wanting to be in. "What do you want to do?" Not an escape, per se, but a diversion.

"The ball, so to speak, is in your metaphorical court. It's up to you, Sam."

"Well…I don't know." He looked down at his toes. He didn't want to lose Gabe as a friend; in fact, that was the last thing he'd ever want to do.

"…Do you want to do it again?"

That question made Sam start. It took him by surprise, and his eyes shot up to meet Gabriel's. He was, it turned out, not joking, not even a little bit. His hazel eyes looked completely serious, and maybe even a little bit scared. Sam's heart gave a nervous thump.

Sam hesitated. "Umm…"

Honest to God, if asked himself? Really thought about it? Sam did want to do it again. Maybe it was that morbid curiosity again, but he wanted to at least try it sober, make a real decision and not let alcohol decide for him.

Maybe he'd regret it, but at least he'd regret it with a clear conscience, and wouldn't be always wondering.

Apparently he'd let some sort of answer out because Gabriel stood, and walked towards him, silently and reverently.

"Sam?" he asked quietly, as though testing the waters. "You wanna?"

Gabriel was close now, heat pouring off him like he was a freaking furnace. Sam suddenly felt Gabriel's fingers brush over his cheek, warm and tentative – pretty much everything in this stupid non-relationship had been tentative. Little baby steps, nothing more.

He felt himself nodding as he subconsciously relaxed into Gabriel's touch.

"One more time," he heard himself say, though his voice was a gruff whisper. "So I can make a real decision."

Gabe's fingers were calming, ridiculously so. A thumb stroked across his cheekbone, softly, before the fingers curled behind Sam's neck. They laced into the hair at the nape of his neck, and pulled him gently closer to Gabriel. Sam's eyes slid shut.

Their lips were practically touching when Gabriel offered him a choice: "You sure?" was all he said. Sam smelled that familiar liquorice again, but now he also smelled vaguely of the latte he'd gotten him this morning. As an answer, Sam just nodded, and he suddenly felt Gabriel's lips on his once again.

If he thought kissing Gabriel while tipsy was good, kissing Gabriel while sober was downright fantastic. Just the tiniest touch of his lips got his heart pumping like he was sprinting. The hand on his neck tightened and pulled him closer as Sam surprised even himself by admitting the tongue that begged for entrance to his mouth.

He had to admit it – he was addicted. Kissing Gabriel was the very best kind of drug, and Sam heard himself moan as their tongues met, hot and wet and tasting like liquorice lattes…

All too soon, it was over, and Gabriel pulled away. Sam was breathless – they both were – and when their eyes met, Gabriel's full of fascination and awe, Sam swore he could melt.

"Well?" Gabriel asked, breath passing over Sam's tingling lips.

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The only thing he could coherently say, apparently, was "Huh."

Gabriel smiled, standing on tiptoes so he could gently brush his nose against Sam's. "That a good 'huh'?" The question was barely a breath against Sam's lips, and he couldn't resist another taste. It was hardly a touch, but it was enough.

"So, that's a good 'huh'."

"Yep."