One Cool Devil, One Hot Angel
Maybe it's the blood burning its way out of his system, but Sam can't help wondering why Gabriel, who has witnessed the creation of the purest and most beautiful things in existence, is still here with him (the addict who owns enough baggage to sink the fucking Titanic) and as the thought hits his mind he can see that dangerous glint — the one that says 'stop' without a word — take hold in the golden eyes above him; the fingers wrapped around his shoulders grip tighter, Gabriel sliding harder and deeper inside him until the sensation of hot slick skin against his body becomes all he can focus on (and it's odd, how such fierceness makes him feel this way, like the bruising motion is some primal piece of redemption), and then Gabriel moans his name, sharp and breathless and full of something that terrifies him even as it unravels the tension in his chest — despite the fear, Sam lets go and loses himself in the heat of Gabriel's touch.