Word Count: ~ 2,000 (this chapter)
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Chapter Summary: In which motel-room-grappling, wet-grass-tackling, and Dad-walk-talking. :)
A/N: Um, so it's been…*checks watch*…uhhh…a really long time since I posted, and for that I am sorry. *feebly offers fic* Will this make it better?

When Sam eventually made it home – it was a little late, he hoped Dean wouldn't be too mad, seeing as it was a school night – Dean was sitting on the edge of his bed, half-filled glass in hand.

He looked up at Sam as he came in, eyes morose and a little red.

"What's wrong?" Sam's eyebrows knitted together as Dean coughed and set down his glass.

He took a deep breath. "Dean?"

"He found out."

There was a horrible pause.

"He…"

"Dad. He found out."

"Dad…? Bu…Who told him?"

Dean raised his hands in surrender. "It wasn't me. I swear. I don't know how he found out, but I promise it wasn't me."

With a whimper of defeat, Sam collapsed onto his bed, arms flopping uselessly at his sides.

Every dad wanted their sons to grow up to be little versions of them – someone who they could sit and watch the football with; a family man. Sam didn't know how John would react to finding out his son liked guys, but he was guessing he wouldn't exactly be happy, or he'd at least have trouble getting used to it or even considering it.

"Shit," Sam breathed, running a hand through his hair. "Wait, where is he now?"

"Um," Dean faltered. He looked down, avoiding Sam's gaze. "He said…he was going to go talk to Mrs. Milton."

"Oh my…fuck."

Sam surged up. Grabbing his coat again, he rushed towards the door.

"Sam, wait. Hold up!" Dean called, grabbing Sam's wrist just as he was about to leave. "What are you going to do?"

"Um…" He hesitated, shifting from one foot to another. What could he do? Stop Dad from talking to Mrs. Milton? He was probably already there. Try and tell him that none of it was true? Not really an option. "Run away?" Sam thought out loud, a little sheepishly. It seemed to be the best option at this point.

"Sam, no."

Dean scowled, using his 'big brother' tone. He pulled a little tighter on Sam's wrist, tugging it away from the door handle. "No," he added once again for effect.

"Well, what else do you suggest I do, Dean?" Sam asked loudly, exasperated.

"I don't know! Talk to him or something, Sammy, just don't be weird about this…"

"It's Sam," he interrupted scathingly, yanking his hand away from Dean's grasp. With one last look, Sam opened the door and stepped out into the night.

Sam wandered around for a good half an hour with no direction.

He really didn't want to head to Gabriel's house…what he found there he knew he wouldn't like. It was the right thing to do; to stand up to his problems and face his dad head on, but God help him, he couldn't do it.

He knew that what he needed right now was Gabriel.

Without realizing it, he found he'd wandered to the hill beside the park where they'd had the whole 'break-up-make-up-Lucifer' fiasco. He flopped down on the slightly damp grass, and rested his head in his hands.

What the fuck was he doing?

Never one for rational thought in heated moments, Sam had run away from his family just to sit on a freaking hill and do shit all about the issues with his father. There was no way in Hell Sam was going to 'talk to him' like Dean had suggested, because he knew exactly how that conversation would go.

Hey, Dad…so you found out I've been screwing around with my (psychic) best friend. And oh yeah he's a guy.

I'm disappointed in you Sam. I really thought you'd get out of this hunting thing – you were going to be the son who settled down and gave me grandkids…I mean, Dean's not having any anytime soon…not intentionally anyway…

But Dad…you still love me right?

Sure. I mean, not as much as I would have if you'd been a manly man like I raised you to be. Not a girly man who sucks cock and goes around making kissy faces…

"We don't go around making kissy faces, Sam!" He spun around where he sat, hearing the familiar voice behind him, speaking as though with a smirk. "And if that's supposed to be your Dad's voice you're doing a terrible impression."

Huh. Sam hadn't known he'd been speaking out loud.

"Gabe," he breathed in relief, clambering to his feet as fast as he could, and pulling Gabriel into a tight hug. He buried his face into Gabriel's hair, not wanting to let go.

They stood like that for God knows how long, before Sam finally pulled away, brushing his nose against Gabriel's. Smiling, he muttered against his lips:

"Run away with me."

There was silence then, Gabriel's eyes cracking open slowly. "Huh?"

"Run away with me!" Sam repeated, almost gleefully. He let go of Gabe and looked up into the sky, laughing loudly once. "Why didn't I think of this earlier? I mean," he grasped Gabriel's shoulders, "this gig isn't working for us, let's just…skip out of here!"

He had a huge grin on his face, like he was a kid at a carnival who'd won the big prize.

"You're…kidding, right?" Sam looked like he definitely wasn't kidding. "Right?"

Sam shook his head violently, his long hair flopping adorably over his eyes. "I'm totally serious…Gabe." He breathed his name like benediction, coming closer and bending over him, almost protectively. One arm curled around his waist, the other reached up to his jaw and stroked a thumb across it, tracing its line with a light feather-brush.

Gabriel's mouth fell a little slack, and Sam gave him what wasn't so much a kiss as a whisper-touch on his lips. It made him dizzy.

"Come on," Sam hissed, grasping his hand and grinning again. "You and I, against the world. We could," he sighed. "We could get our own place…" He looked out into the whale blue sky, into nothingness, creating a picture with his mind. "We wouldn't have to listen to our parents…I wouldn't have to be a hunter any more…" he added wistfully. He pulled Gabriel closer, placing a chaste kiss high on his cheekbone. "Paints a pretty picture, huh?"

"Sam," he said reluctantly, his voice hoarse. "You're insane, you know that?"

"No…seriously! We can do this, Gabe, we…"

"Sam."

He spoke as though chastising a child, voice stern, eyebrows knit together.

"Must I be the sensible one here? This is about your dad, right?" Sam nodded slowly. "Running away's not the answer, Sam."

"But…"

"Just…talk to him, okay?"

Sam let out a pathetic whine as he exhaled. "That's what Dean said…I really don't want to, Gabe, he'll…" Sam sighed. "He'll be mad."

"Dude," he replied, looking Sam directly in the eyes and placing two hands on his shoulders. He looked truly imposing even though he was almost a head shorter than he was. "Trust me on this one. Your dad isn't going to care if you're gay, straight, bi, or transgender or whatever. He's going to care more that you didn't tell him before."

Sam wrinkled his brow, skeptical, but really he was just looking for a point to argue because he had the feeling Gabriel was right. "Really?"

"Yeah." Gabriel smiled, clapping him on the back. "Now come on, or do I have to talk you down from doing something else stupid, like slitting your wrists or something?"

"Dude."

"What?"

"…I may be into guys but that doesn't make me an emo chick."

"You're totally an emo chick."

"Shut up!" Sam grinned and swatted Gabriel playfully on the shoulder.

"Emo chick!" Gabriel taunted, running away over the damp grass.

"Candy whore!" Sam yelled, chasing him. He caught up with him soon enough, and when he did, tackled him on to the ground. They landed on top of each other, breathless and laughing, their chests so flush that Sam could practically feel Gabriel's heart beating.

Sam's hands were resting on the grass, either side of Gabriel's head. Without a second thought, Sam leaned down to press his lips to Gabriel's, receiving a needy whine in return. When Gabriel reached up to tangle a hand in Sam's hair, and a tongue teased at the seam of his lips, he couldn't help but smile.

He could run away all he wanted, but this? Right here? This was home.

They made it back to Gabriel's place only a little while later, and Sam looked nothing short of terrified when they pulled up outside.

Gabriel rested a hot, comforting hand in the small of his back all the way up the walkway to the front door, rubbing circles with his thumb. Before they got to the door, he gave Sam's hip a quick squeeze before letting go of it altogether.

Just as he was reaching for the handle, it turned and the door opened, revealing a kindly-smiling Mrs. Milton, and – to Sam's horror – John, looking a little perplexed.

Biting his lip, Gabriel tried to subtly slip inside, which wasn't so easily done considering he was the only one making noise and moving among three other still, silent people. Sam wanted more than anything to stop him; grab him, pull him close and never let go.

But this, he thought, looking directly into John's eyes, was something he had to do alone.

"Sam, I think we need to talk."

He thought he must have looked frightened, because as John stepped outside and Mrs. Milton moved to close the door behind him, she shot him a sympathetic smile. He tried to smile back and make it look like he was totally calm and collected, but yeah…he pretty much failed epically at that.

"Let's take a walk."

John's voice was clipped, his words short. He didn't look Sam in the eye and holy crap Sam was worried that he was going to disown him or abandon him in Pennsylvania or something.

Not that he showed any signs of wanting to disown Sam. In fact, as they walked, he said nothing, the chilly wind almost speaking for them – because this silence, long and awkward as it was, was most definitely chilly.

Sam chanced a few peeks over at his father, though mostly he just looked at the ground in front of him; sometimes John would open his mouth as though he was about to say something, but then close it again like he changed his mind.

They walked for a long time, and Sam would bet that neither of them really knew where they were going, but they sort of absent-mindedly strode around blocks and aimlessly continued walking around town.

Finally, John spoke:

"Do you love him? Gabriel…do you love him?"

Sam stopped in his tracks on the frozen ground, mouth hanging open a little as he stared at his father, who had stopped a few paces ahead of Sam, hands in his coat pockets and waiting for an answer.

That certainly wasn't what he'd been expecting.

His mouth formed words, but they were more words of questioning; of 'what the fuck?' …but in any case, none actually made it all the way to being words. So instead he just tucked his cold fingers into his armpits and thought.

Was Sam in love? He'd never really thought he could be in love with another guy…not that he'd ever considered it before all this, before Gabriel.

But of course, with Gabriel, things were different. Things always were. In fact, Gabriel wouldn't be Gabriel if he didn't reject normality at every possible opportunity.

Sam found himself laughing at that thought. And, before he knew it, he found he was nodding, too.

"Yeah," he said, his voice a little hoarse. "Yeah, I think I do."

John said nothing for a moment, only his lips were twitching into the smallest of half-smiles. He looked almost…proud, and no, that definitely wasn't right.

After a minute, John stepped towards Sam, clapping him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy," he said, almost grinning now. "Now let's get back before we freeze our butts off."