Spoilers/Warnings: All of s5
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. I also don't own Jell-o. Well, I do, just…not the company. I own a few packs of Jell-o. Mmm, Jell-o. XP
Chapter Summary: In which I am EBIL! :)
A/N: Ok so I totally cheated and I'm using this for the 'candlelight sex' square on my schmoop_bingo card. So sue me.

It was Saturday night, and both Sam and Gabriel had tried everything – up to and including trying to convince John to let Sam finish his Junior year at William Penn and stay at Gabriel's.

He'd said no. Then Sam had stormed out, only to return half an hour later with a tub of Ben & Jerry's and a very grumpy expression.

So, as compensation, Gabriel's parents had kindly decided to go out, and Dean had reluctantly offered to babysit Anna. Sam was sure she wouldn't mind playing go fish with Dean in the motel room the whole night. So long as Dean didn't show her the wonders of pay-per-view he guessed they'd be fine.

Gabriel's room was dotted with candles, tiered on bookshelves, windowsills, tables. It was perfect.

Perfect for their last night together in God only knew how long.

"Thank you," he whispered as a prayer against Gabriel's lips, hands cupping his cheeks. "I love it."

He dipped down just a little to brush their lips together, smoothing a hand through his hair. When he pulled back, he smiled sadly. He was going to miss this.

He was going to miss seeing Gabriel every day; he was going to miss his crazy little mood changes and the way he snapped his fingers when he was nervous. He was going to miss Gabriel's pathetic romantic side – the side that gave him candles and dinner dates and kissed him on the cheek before running off to class.

He was going to miss him – the thought hit him like a ton of bricks to the chest.

Sliding his arms around Gabriel's neck, he pulled him close and into a hug. Gabriel buried his face in Sam's shoulder and held him around his waist. He squeezed as tightly as he possibly could.

Then Sam made a (mostly) involuntary noise of protest at being squeezed and they both dissolved into giggles.

The giggles turned into kisses, which turned into nips along Sam's jaw and an ache building in his stomach that tasted of desire. He was reduced to his baser instincts: want need must have your skin on mine, your lips on mine.

"Too many clothes," Sam complained in a growl. Gabriel clearly concurred, nodding his head enthusiastically, and reaching up to slide Sam's jacket from his shoulders.

A few fumbled attempts at undressing later, they were both bare-chested, pressed up against each other as closely as possible. Gabriel's kisses started to stray to his jaw and neck, muttering words into his skin.

"Oh, God…" he mouthed into Sam's neck, making the skin buzz with the words and a thrum of want pulse through Sam.

As his kisses trailed down past his collarbone, he moaned: "Sammy…" The word was low and drawn out, and Sam was gasping by the time he lapped at a nipple. He twisted his fingers into Gabriel's hair, cradling his skull as he licked and sucked lower.

"God…gonna miss you," he murmured, and he was on his knees by now, sucking a bruise onto Sam's hip. When he pulled away, Sam spared a second to brush a thumb over the rapidly-forming bruise and put a little pressure on it – he liked that; he'd have a reminder of Gabriel and tonight for few days at least. Crap. He was clutching at straws here. "So fucking much…"

"Me…uhh…too," Sam stuttered out, because now Gabriel was fumbling with his button. He had enough brain power to fumble behind him and reach for something behind him before Gabriel unzipped his fly and pulled his dick out.

"Gabriel," he gasped, combing his hands through his hair as he jacked Sam's cock a little.

"Yeah," he replied, half question, half reassurance. "I'm here, Sam," he mumbled, stroking Sam's thigh through his jeans, before licking a slow stripe up his cock.

Sam shouldn't have looked down. He really shouldn't have, because when he did, what he saw was Gabriel looking up at him with a look of pure decadence and sin; of temptation and desire. Looking up at him with hazel eyes made of fire, a smirk formed on Gabriel's lips, before they closed around the head of Sam's cock – his eyes never once left Sam's.

In the interest of not immediately jizzing, Sam had to squeeze his eyes shut and think of something other than the delicious suction Gabriel was creating with his mouth. But oh…he did this thing with his tongue – something Sam still hadn't gotten used to, no matter how often they'd done this – pointing it and teasing the slit. If Gabriel didn't watch it he'd have Sam coming before they'd hardly even started.

Just then, Gabriel opened up his throat and took Sam as far as he could, his nose pressed up against the denim and brass of his fly. Sam could feel the muscles in his throat working around the head, and the only thing holding him back from thrusting into that beautiful wet heat was Gabriel's palms on his hips, half-pressing on the bruise he'd just received.

He tried to though, and the tiny movement made Gabriel give a low groan and palm his own erection through his jeans.

"You like that?" Sam asked, his voice hoarse as though he hadn't spoken for days. As a response, Gabriel groaned low again, a wanton sound that Sam could feel in his bones. "Want me to nngh…" he paused when Gabriel gripped the curve of his ass and pulled him in, "…use your mouth?"

As best he could, Gabriel nodded, closing his eyes and moaning again.

If Sam didn't die from this, he was totally going to repay the favor.

Gently cradling Gabriel's head with both hands, and weaving his fingers into his hair, Sam gave a small thrust into Gabriel's mouth, gentle though egged on by the hands on his ass pulling him in.

Sam couldn't stand it any more. Even though he was certain his legs would give out from the sheer hotness of the scene in front of his eyes, he began to move his hips steadily, keeping Gabriel's head immobile as he watched his cock slide in and out from in between his lips, shiny and slick with spit.

Gabriel groaned his approval and when Sam could tear his gaze away from his mouth long enough, he could see that he was palming his own cock, still trapped in his jeans.

The thought that Gabriel was getting off on this almost as much as Sam was made his hands grasp harder onto his hair, and for half a dozen thrusts, pump his hips into his mouth just this side of brutal. Like a slow burn, Sam felt his orgasm wash through him, making his knees go weak and tingles run through his body like he'd been electrocuted.

Gabriel's tongue worked around his cock as he came, still pulling on his ass to make him keep thrusting through his orgasm. Sucking as though his life depended on it, he swallowed every drop of Sam's come. Sam's head had been somewhere else entirely, but when he came back to himself, he found he'd been spurting filth as he came, interspersed with cries of Gabriel's name.

Gabriel moaned as he lapped at Sam's softening cock, grinning like – if you'll pardon the expression – the cat who got the cream. The over-stimulation was too much for Sam's knees (which by now resembled Jell-o) and he half-collapsed so he was level with Gabriel, pulling him in for a heated kiss. He'd have enough jack-off fantasies for months now.

"You?" Sam gestured, breathless, to Gabriel's crotch, where he was still hard. When Gabriel didn't say anything, Sam reached towards him and pressed his palm against his erection.

"No," Gabriel gasped out, though it was obvious it pained him to do so. "Wanna save it."

"Huh?"

With a grin, and saying nothing else, Gabriel picked himself up by his knees and crawled over to his bedside drawer. He pulled something out of it, and though Sam couldn't see what it was, he could feel the indent of the latex ring as Gabriel came close and pressed it into his chest.

Crowding in close, Gabriel kissed him deeply, tongue sliding hypnotically against Sam's. He moaned into the kiss, wanting to commit the taste of Gabriel and the taste of himself on Gabriel's tongue to memory. Still there was that insistent circular press into his chest – once his brain committed to concentrating on something other than Gabriel's tongue in his mouth, he figured out what it meant, and his dick gave a valiant twitch.

"How about it?" Gabriel asked breathlessly when he pulled away, nuzzling against Sam's nose and tangling his fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. "Huh? I'm ready," he wheedled, almost tauntingly, moving to straddle Sam's hips; a silent 'Are you ready?'

And fuck yeah, Sam was ready.

As a response, Sam let out a needy little whine – which he'd deny later – and shuffled closer to Gabriel, despite their bodies being flush already. Sealing their lips together in a messy kiss, Sam slid an arm around his back, almost cradling the smaller boy against him.

With the tips of his fingers, he traced the curve of Gabriel's spine, sending shivers through him. With a gasp, Gabriel bucked forward and closer to Sam. He ate up the little noises that Gabriel made as his fingers traveled lower over his spine to the small of his back. The fact that the touches made Gabriel buck his hips towards him and rub his still-clothed cock against Sam's hip didn't make him any quieter.

"You wanna, Sam?" Gabriel asked in a whisper, now that Sam's fingers were tracing the very top of his jeans. Sam just nodded, placing a kiss on Gabriel's forehead and holding him close for a prolonged moment.

"So, so much, Gabe," he muttered against his skin. "Love you."

"John."

John suddenly looked up from the book he'd been reading, searching for the source of the voice. It wasn't either of his two boys; they were both out. After several moments of silence, he shook his head. It must have been a trick.

Besides, John Winchester knew better than to listen to voices in his head.

"John, I need to talk to you."

And that definitely wasn't a trick. It was a male voice speaking, ethereal and other-worldly. He thought he recognized the voice, from a dark abyss of his past.

His mind jumped to 'spirit', and he calmly and deftly loaded the sawed-off he always kept nearby. His mind whirred around, to places he'd rather forget: that poor unarmed man he hadn't meant to kill in 'Nam; the people he'd let get killed while he was hunting. Any number of people could be haunting him.

"What do you want?" he asked the voice calmly, the whole time knowing he sounded a little stupid talking to himself.

The voice spoke slowly and reverently. "I need your help."

"Why should I help you?" John hissed, adding: "Who are you?"

"It is within your interests to help me," the voice said smoothly and cryptically. John just glared at the thin air. It didn't answer the second question.

"Why?" John asked flatly, standing up and cocking the gun.

"…Sammy's in trouble."

There was silence then; John's eyes widened. He glanced around the room, stalking silently around it and looking for clues as to where the voice was coming from.

"Trouble how?" he asked, peering around the corner and aiming his gun behind one of the beds.

"He is in the grips of a very powerful supernatural creature."

John paused. As far as he knew, Sam was over at Gabriel's place. He narrowed his eyes.

"I can help him," the voice spoke again. "I just need you to say 'yes'."

What kind of spirit or demon asked permission? He shook his head slightly, both in disbelief and as a rejection.

"Please, John."

"Who are you?"

"If I tell you who I am, will you promise to let me help Sammy?"

If Sam really was in trouble, John'd do anything.

"…Yes. Fine, yes. Who are you?" he asked for the third time.

"My name is Michael."

There was a glowering silence.

"What are you?" John hissed through his teeth.

"I'm an Archangel of the Lord."

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. Or tell me on Twitter, if the mood so takes you. *smiles serenely*