Title: Too Close to the Ground
Author: sarahlizzie
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Spoilers/Warnings: All of s5/
Word Count: ~ 2,580 (this chapter)
Cred to: highermagic, 'cause she's beyond awesome. && theinsaneeraser who brainstormed with me when I got writer's block 3
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Chapter Summary: In which there are bombshells. Many.
A/N: When highermagic read the first half of this, she started drooling. I'll take that as a compliment. (Also she came up with the knocked up joke. XD) I had so much fun writing the scene with the vision – you'll see why ;)
Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16
That Wednesday afternoon, Sam and Gabriel found themselves in the all too familiar situation of arriving at Gabriel's front door and having neither enough brainpower nor enough appendages – that weren't on each other – to actually get the door open.
Sam finally took pity on his boyfriend – and it totally didn't give Sam tingles to finally be able to say that – and grabbed the keys from Gabe's hand, which had just been trying to jam the wrong key in the door. Laughing against his lips, he peered down briefly to pick the correct key and shove it haphazardly into the lock, turning it as best he could.
They stumbled through the threshold, Gabriel grasping onto Sam's neck and making a face when he tripped. Sam, for his part, managed to brace himself on the door and hold them both up, before wrapping an arm around Gabriel's waist and sweeping him closer.
Brushing hair out of his face and grinning, Sam whispered a little huskily. "Is your mom home?"
"Wow, Sam," Gabriel began, chuckling. "If I had known you had a thing for my mom, I woulda backed off sooner!"
Smacking him over the head, Sam laughed out loud. "Ass," he added as an afterthought.
"Maybe so…" Gabriel wound a hand around Sam's neck and buried his fingers in the hair there. "But you still love me."
At that, Sam's breath hitched, and he swallowed, knowing only how true that was.
Unknowing of this, though, Gabriel buried his face in the crook of Sam's neck, lapping at it lovingly and leaving little bites. "We going upstairs, huh?" he whispered into Sam's ear.
As an answer, Sam just pulled back and grinned, grabbing Gabriel's wrist and tugging him impatiently upstairs.
When they reached the bed they collapsed onto it in tangles of limbs and (totally not girly) giggles, wrestling for the top as they usually did.
Sam won.
Straddling Gabriel's hips, he sat up, teasingly sliding his hands under the hem of Gabriel's shirt and lifting it off slowly. He just watched as he did so, with a sort of quiet awe. Once he'd gotten Gabriel topless, he began on himself, pulling off his own shirt and smiling lovingly.
When their next kiss was barely a brush of lips, Gabriel knew something was up.
"Sammy?"
"Gabey?"
Only taking a second to glare at him for the nickname, Gabriel continued. "What's up? I mean, usually you're rocking the 'gung ho, must have you now,' thing…but now you're all…" He wanted to say tender but that was the wrong word. "Uhh…soft."
Sam glanced briefly down at his crotch, then back up to Gabriel. "Um…"
"No, not that kind of soft!" Gabriel sat up, secretly loving the feeling of bare chest against bare chest. "Seriously…what's with all the 'oh so gentle'? Why're you taking your time?"
Sam paused, looking down, and then at the curtains, and then at the bedspread. "Look," he began, his voice hoarse. He looked Gabriel in the eye then, reaching up a hand to cup his jaw. "I have bad news."
Gabriel gave him a glaring look that said: 'Go on.'
"Gabe," Sam knew he must have looked distraught now. He sniffed once. "Gabe, I'm leaving on Sunday."
There was silence then – long and tense and horrible. Gabriel's gaze fell, lingering on the hand that was resting on Sam's chest. Sam just tensed, knowing that Gabriel would have to get used to this pretty big piece of bad news.
"Uhh," he finally said, coughing once before continuing. "Well, really I should have known this was coming, uhh…" Gabriel wrinkled his eyebrows together and lifted a hand to Sam's brow, stroking hair away. "I'm gonna miss you." He was totally at a loss of what else to say.
"Me too." Sam nuzzled into his palm, placing a light kiss on the inside of his wrist. His eyes slid shut, letting loose a single (manly) tear. "But look," he said, smiling and wiping away the tear. He took Gabriel's face in both his hands. "I'll visit you. As much as I can."
Gabriel just nodded, smiling along a little.
"Hey, in two years I'm gonna ditch those two anyway," Sam continued, a little excited now. "It's gonna be alright! We can…we can…go to college together! We'll…we'll get our own little place and we'll get a dog and…"
Gabriel laughed then, shaking his head. "Yeah, and what college?"
"Well…" Sam looked away. "I'm gunning for Stanford but…" he backtracked when Gabriel rolled his eyes and let out a little 'psh' noise. "I'll go to Penn State for you…or some community college or something, Gabe…" he shuffled closer, trying to get more contact, trying to sink into him so he wouldn't have to let go. "I don't care as long as I'm with you."
The confession was a breath against his lips, and he quickly closed the gap. The kiss was brief, but enough.
"Sam," he tried to say, but instead buried fingers in Sam's hair as he trailed kisses down his neck. "Hey!" he laughed when Sam nipped at the patch of skin between neck and shoulder. He peeled Sam reluctantly away by the hair. "If you go to a community college because of me, someone's gonna think you knocked me up."
At that, Sam broke down into giggles, resting his head against Gabriel's shoulder. Soon he, too, was shaking with laughter and the two of them fell on to the bed, tears of earlier forgotten.
Somehow, Gabriel ended up on his back, legs spread, Sam nestled between them. Pants and shorts had been hurriedly shucked and tossed aside – so much for taking it slow – and Sam was pressed oh so temptingly against him.
Trailing his fingers down first Gabriel's torso, then over his abs, Sam took him gently in his hand. Gabriel shivered.
After just a few strokes, Gabriel was begging – for what, he didn't know; for more, for harder. Sam bent over his ear and Gabriel bucked helplessly into his fist: he loved it when Sam talked to him while he was doing this.
After taking the lobe of his ear briefly between his teeth, Sam whispered: "I'm leaving, so…we should make this count." It was less of a statement than an order, and Gabriel made a little whine of agreement in the back of his throat.
Sam continued his annoyingly slow strokes, made no better by Gabriel's desperate attempts to buck into his hand – every time he did so, Sam would hiss 'Shhh' in his ear and clamp his other hand down on his hip, probably hard enough to bruise.
"As for making this momentous," Sam murmured, pausing to bite down gently on the skin below Gabriel's ear. "What do you say?" He sped up his hand then, twisting it over the head, making him keen. "Do you think I could fuck you?"
Gabriel's eyes fluttered shut at that thought and his whole body arched up off the bed. Sam quieted him again, chuckling a little.
With a whine of protest from Gabriel, Sam's hand left his cock and trailed down further, first to cup his balls, then to press his thumb against his perineum. With the last ounce of brain power that wasn't used up on concentrating on not coming – not now, damnit – Gabriel flung his arm towards his bedside table and scrambled with the top drawer.
Out of it he pulled a small bottle, which he promptly threw at Sam – and that was enough of an answer for him. He chuckled. "Always prepared, huh?"
Gabriel grinned, nodding. "I'm a freaking boyscout," he said, as Sam excitedly squeezed a liberal amount onto his fingers.
"Hold up," Gabriel gasped, holding up a hand to stop him. "I'm kindof a…um…virgin back there so…" he laughed nervously. "Just fingers today, alright kiddo?" he finished, sounding a hell of a lot more confident than he felt.
Sam just smiled and nodded, fully understanding.
Leaning over to press wet kisses to the side of Gabriel's face, he brought his hand back down, dancing lightly over his entrance. The lube was cold and Gabriel shied away from the touch, though he immediately regretted it. Sam's voice was comforting in his ear, murmuring words like 'relax' and 'easy'.
Gabriel did relax and the tip of Sam's index finger slipped in easily. The feeling was quite alien – there was a dull burn as he pressed in further, not unpleasant but rather a little unexpected.
Sam hummed against his collarbone, sucking a bruise onto the skin as he pushed his finger in deeper. As if that weren't enough, Sam brushed the bundle of nerves inside him and Gabriel arched again in an explosion of sensation.
Almost reverently, and with a frustrating slowness, Sam pulled his finger almost all the way back. After a pause, he slid it back in, hitting Gabriel's prostate once more – that was when Gabriel lost it: he let out a string of curses and random words, some of which he wasn't even sure were even English.
He grasped onto Sam's hair, briefly regretting that he wouldn't be able to do that much longer, but that thought was pushed out of his mind when he repeated the action. "Sam," he gasped, pulling the other boy into a desperate kiss. "More," was all he said when they broke away, gesturing vaguely.
Sam seemed to get the message though; leaning back to watch as he gently pressed a second finger inside. Gabriel gasped at the fullness, pushing himself back onto Sam's fingers, searching for the friction he really wanted. Far away, Sam groaned, watching where his fingers disappeared into Gabriel's body. His own cock was heavy and neglected, leaking precome when he watched Gabriel lift up his knees so he could get a better view.
Sam groaned again, eyes darkening. "Fuck it," he growled, wrapping his other hand around Gabriel's cock. Gabriel bucked again into his fist, swearing – he was so close; Sam could do magical things with his fingers. As soon as he felt his thighs tense and his back arch he knew he was done for.
Sam milked him through his orgasm, white ropes of come staining his chest and Sam's hand. After coming back down, he watched Sam stripping his own cock like his life relied on it. After only a half dozen more strokes he was coming too, fingers still buried in Gabriel's ass, hair messier than normal and sweat streaked across his brow.
He looked a debauched mess – they both probably did.
Using the last bit of his brain that hadn't shot out of his dick, Gabriel scooched over to let Sam collapse on the bed next to him, quietly catching his breath. Sam rolled lazily over after a minute, placing kisses along the side of Gabriel's face and neck, and trailing slow fingers through the mess on his stomach.
Gabriel shivered as he watched Sam lick his fingers clean. He just watched him for a moment, before pulling him closer and placing a kiss on his forehead.
"I'm gonna miss this," he mumbled, burying his face in Sam's hair.
"We can still have it," Sam said adamantly. He nuzzled closer to Gabriel, his hand traveling aimlessly over his neck and through his hair. Gabriel felt he could just lie there forever, basking in the pale Spring sunlight seeping through his window, clinging on to Sam like he'd never have to let go.
"Can you stay?" he whispered, rubbing circles on Sam's right shoulder. "Right now, I mean…do you have to get back to Dean now?"
Sam just shook his head, hairs tickling Gabriel's nose. "No." He chuckled. "Knowing him, he's probably just lounging around the motel room watching Casa Erotica or something."
There was silence for a few seconds – Sam knew the smell of that silence. It was vaguely ozone, and smelt a little bit like sugar, though that might just have been the smell that Gabriel had around him wherever he went. Either way, Sam knew that smell…and it smelt like another vision.
Sam sat up swiftly and cradled Gabriel in his arms before the headache even began, and he was ready for the cries of pain – though he would never get used to the way he would try to calm him down and have it not make any difference.
"I need…Casa Erotica."
He's watching a porno. A Goddamned porno. All of his visions have been of creepy men with wings and Satan and stuff, but…no, this time, he's watching a porno.
So, he figures, he might as well just sit back and enjoy the ride.
Except…oh, damn. He's in this porno. He, Gabriel, as an adult, is starring in a porno. Awkwarrd. He has his hair slicked back and there is this huge black moustache taped to his face – seriously, who comes up with this shit?
And – although he's happy his older self gets in the sack with the pretty blonde chick – where is this going?
Then he turns to face the camera. "Sam…Dean."
What the Hell even…
"You're probably wondering what the Hell's going on."
Uh, yeah. Care to explain, oh older self porn star?
Porn star just stares at him like an asshole – and yeah, Gabe admits he's kinda an asshole – and rips off his moustache.
"Well…if you're watching this…"
The world spins and he loses the image, but he can still hear the last two words his older self says as a distant echo.
"…I'm dead."
The vision changes, and he's in a big room, furnished elegantly. The furniture's all screwed to Hell though, and the ballroom's empty – there's only two people in there.
Well – he soon finds out – one person (maybe, he's got some issues with his face…gross) and one ex-person, lying spread-eagled on the floor with a fucking huge sword sticking out of his chest.
Only…that's not just any ex-person. That's himself, lying there, dead.
Oh, God.
"Shh-hh, it's ok."
Gabriel's eyes flickered open, and he found himself cradled in Sam's lap, a hand stroking gently through his hair. A gust of air made him realize he'd been sweating like God only knows what, and…well. He had a right to.
"Notebook," he choked out, his throat burning. Then, as an afterthought: "Water!"
Setting him gently down, Sam grabbed both, running with light footsteps back to Gabriel's bedside. He immediately grabbed the notebook and began to draw, sketching out roughly what he'd seen: a man – himself, holy crap – lying dead on the ground, a giant pair of majestic black wings seared onto the wood behind him.
"Gabriel," whispered Sam, barely audible. "Who's that?" He pointed at the body.
"Me," Gabriel whimpered pathetically. God, he sounded like he was about to cry. There had been just one too many surprises today. Sam grabbed for the paper, almost ripping it out of the notebook.
"You?" He choked, running his fingers first over the body, then tracing the wings. He looked up into Gabriel's eyes, worry brimming over.
"I don't know what's worse," Gabriel shrugged – the cockiness was back. "…If my murderer's MO is painting giant black wings on the ground…or if his face looks like it's lost a fight with a food processor." He laughed, though the sound was humorless and weak.
All Sam did was stand up and pull Gabriel into a tight hug, burying his face in his shoulder.
"I'm not gonna let you die," he promised, speaking the words into his neck.
Even coming from Sam, that didn't make him feel any better.
HOWDY GUYS. So…any of you wonderful, eccentric people on Twitter? Awesome! I'm sarahlizzie – go ahead and follow me. And if you already are, you WIN PRIZES! :D Also, if you have requests for any timestamps, feel free to tell me about your ideas in the comments. Or on Twitter, if the mood so takes you. *smiles serenely*