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Kiss me, Stupid!	By : Jadeaffection Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2670 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor do I make any money from these writings.

Chapter List
- 1-Kiss me, Stupid!
- 1
Title: Kiss me, Stupid!

Fandom: Supernatural

Characters/Pairing: Sam/Gabriel, Dean/Castiel, Adam/Michael, Bobby and Crowley

Rating: R

Warnings: Mild suggestiveness, copious use of the "F" word, sexuality, so much fluff it's ridiculous and possible OOC moments due to fluff.

Genre: Humor/Romance

Spoilers: Up to, oh lets say, 7.07

Length: 6440 Oneshot

Summary: Everyone has a limit to just how much of something they can take before they snap. Angels and humans alike. It's just that no one ever expects it to happen on the same day.

A/N: Oh, dear goodness, what have I done? Adam/Michael? Over 6000 words? Sappy Dean/Cas? And I don't even know what the hell's going on with Gabriel? But I figure why not... If anyone deserves sappy it's Dean/Cas( which they basically are already what with Castiel's epic "I did it, all of it, for you"-type statements. He's a obvious romantic at heart.). And who says Gabriel isn't acting crazy to mess with Sam (wasn't how I wrote it but who says it's not true.). Anyway, on to the important part of this A/N...

This is for Ladyknightanka! (1) For her birthday! Happy B'day bb! (2) For recommending me a fic I loved. And (3) Because she is made of awesome and sweetness and all kinds of wonderful things like rainbows, kittens, starlight, unicorns, Gabriel Macht, ice-cream and lollipops! Hope you enjoy it sweetie! (P.s I hope you get Michael's vessel, cause I put that in just for you [and me but shh, who's counting] Did you know he's actually shorter than Jake Abel... I did not.)

It must have been God. Or, at the very least, Chuck Norris.
They got Castiel back. Neither Winchester was quite sure how. Months of running and research and then, two days before what would turn out to be the last stand of the Leviathans, they got him back. Naked and shivering on their motel door step but all Cas and all angel, at least before he passed out. The relief on Dean’s face was so raw and real, Sam could hardly look at him.
Eighteen hours later, when Castiel was still laid out unconscious on Dean’s bed and Bobby was on his way, a loud crash echoed from the bathroom. On investigation, the boys found a dazed Gabriel in their bathtub, a fallen towel barely maintaining his modesty. His first croaky words were “What have you two morons done now?”. It was definitely him. It might have been them finally cracking but Dean and Sam laughed until they cried.
Bobby had just gotten through the “You are all idjits!” speech, after he had walked in to find a newly awoken Castiel watching a newly drunk Dean trying to match a newly arrived Crowley shot for shot while Gabriel flicked M&Ms into Sam’s hair while he napped, when Adam fell, nude, from the ceiling. Well, technically, Adam and Michael did. Even Gabriel didn’t know how they were cohabitating.
And no one knew why everyone was always naked or exactly what decibel Crowley’s girly shriek reached when Adam/Michael hit the floor.
When the Leviathans finally arrived in their full number, all the better to take out the cockroach like scourge that was the Winchester brothers, their surprise attack didn’t quite turn out as they had hoped. They definitely weren’t expecting two ferocious archangels, a pissy king of hell who was tired of surprise celestial arrivals scaring the life out of him, three “Fuck this shit, we’ve had enough!” hunters and the little angel who could. And who did after one of the bastards dislocated Dean’s arm.
It was all over rather quickly. Very anticlimactic really.
Bobby had a theory that after all the crap they had had dumped on them over the years, the law of averages dictated that they were due for some good luck sooner or later before the universe was so out of balance it imploded. He never voiced this theory out loud, but he had it nonetheless.
So, they celebrated. Long and hard. Sam sang a karaoke duet of “You’ve Got A Friend In Me” with Crowley, Gabriel taught Cas how to gavotte and Dean decided he’d had enough to drink when the swapping of Adam’s face from highly intoxicated to fondly amused, as Michael and his youngest brother took turns at the wheel, made him dizzy. Bobby might have had a lengthy conversation with a lampshade but no one was brave enough to bring it up.
Then the angels returned to heaven.
Bobby bet Crowley it’d only last till Christmas.
Crowley said he’d take that bet and put his money on Thanksgiving.
***
In a reasonably clean motel room in small-town-somewhere, Iowa…
‘A mushroom would not have the manual dexterity to operate a motor vehicle.’
Adam turned away from the screen (pausing the game first of course because it was the last lap and that bitch, Peach was going down!) to face the sudden addition to the motel room.
And he was ready in an instant to kick the dude’s ass. Or call out to Dean for help but that was a second emergency option that he would never voice aloud to his older brother. The douche’s ego was big enough. Point was he was poised for a smack down.
At least until he recognized the glow behind the intruder’s eyes. It was an unfamiliar face and body but it was definitely Michael.
He was torn between hugging the guy or punching him in the mouth for staying away so long. You don’t share your body and mind with a guy in that way without getting attached. And he didn’t even call. Thankfully, Adam was saved from becoming a total girl when Michael spoke again.
‘Does this vessel make me look fat?’
If Adam’s face were an emoticon, it would be O_o.
That was not a comment he would have ever attributed to the archangel. However, as he assessed the blank, slightly curious look on Michael’s face, he got it.
Adam sighed, running a hand through his dirty blond hair.
‘Gabriel told you to say that, didn’t he?’
‘He was insistent. Well, as far as I could tell between the giggles. He seemed to find the statement, in relation to you and me, hysterical. Which I don’t really understand. I though it was a phrase more commonly associated with a woman. In a relationship. So therefore you would be the man in this scenario and I would be the female. But we are not together. And my vessel is clearly male, so…’
‘Yeah, no, I get that. Just don’t think too hard on it okay. It’s just Gabriel being a dick. As usual.’
Michael nodded, like the fact that Gabriel was an asshole was common knowledge, which in Adam’s opinion it was, and that he was very glad that the young man had reminded him of it.
Adam was just happy to get away from any awkward and entirely improper conversation topics. Thinking and talking about relationships in proximity to Michael was damaging to Adam’s fragile self-control. It also kind of made him want to bash his head against the nearest hard surface in a vain attempt to remove uncomfortable feeling type thoughts from his brain.
His imagination was rather inappropriate when it came to the archangel. Even in a male vessel apparently, which Adam was really not expecting. It was one thing to daydream about a female shaped, human version of Michael but this was something else for his imagination to deal with.
And the stupid thing was always getting carried away without his permission, making him want things he really shouldn’t. Eye contact, hand holding, silent conversations, lips meeting, hands touching skin, bodies…
‘So, does it?’
Adam had never been more grateful for Michael’s noble nature. Gabriel would have been all up in his thoughts, mind raping the hell out of him by now. But then again the former trickster had the attention span of a hyperactive toddler and a second of inattention was enough for him to start with the mind reading.
‘Uh, does what do what?’
Adam freely admits it’s not his most intelligent response ever but he was a little busy trying to get his hormones and newly reacquired body under control.
‘My new vessel. Does it make me look fat? This is its grand debut. Gabriel designed and made it for me. I was considering a female version and Gabriel had seemed quite ecstatic at the idea of crafting breasts but Castiel had insisted I return to a male form. He thought it would be easier for you and your brothers to adjust to my presence if I didn’t mess with your quaint gender sensibilities. And I concurred.’
Adam was sure he should be insulted by that last part but before he had time to interject as to just how evolved, sensitive and new age he and Sam were (he didn’t think he could include Dean in that and maintain a straight face), Michael continued.
‘You don’t mind that I’m not presented as a woman, do you? This vessel is adequate, isn’t it? It would cost me, how did he put it, “a year of porn, pizza and pralines“, but I can get a new one if this one disappoints you.’
Adam would love to make a joke at this point, channel Dean, and suggest that Michael should ask Gabe for a Jessica Rabbit look-alike vessel but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. The look on the archangel’s face was so earnest and pleading, as if he needed approval, needed to be told that what he was doing was right. He was blushing for goodness sake.
It suddenly seemed like the most important thing in the world that Adam take this seriously. That he give his honest opinion. The thought of lying to Michael made his stomach drop.
Adam stepped closer to the other man, circled him like a shark. He looked at Michael more closely than he had looked at any other dude in his entire life.
He took in the slicked-back chocolate brown hair and matching dark eyes with curved eyebrows. Studied the smooth cheekbones, almost symmetrical nose and strong jaw line. Marveled at the thin lips and wide mouth, that when asked to smile would be enough to elicit giggles were Adam a twelve-year-old schoolgirl. Appreciated the time Gabriel took to make it look human, the slight bags under the eyes and the two moles over the left one.
The strong lines of the body accentuated by a well fitting suit. The broadness of the shoulders, the lithe waist…
Adam knew he was supposed to be going for honesty here but he’s not exactly sure how “Oh My Good God! You are fucking HOT! Can we please have sex now, please?” would go down.
So much blasphemy in such small sentences.
Instead of booking his ticket back to hell, Adam took a step back and caught Michael’s eyes with a warm smile.
‘You look perfect.’
Simple, platonic, understated and so bone-achingly true Adam could hardly stand it.
And that’s what Adam’s going to blame for his complete lack of control. A complete lack of control that was going to get him smote.
Because when Adam said the word ‘perfect’, Michael released what was easily the most breathtakingly beautiful smile the human had ever seen.
Somewhere in his brain months of denial, over a year of friendship and protection in hell and just general old-fashioned attraction to everything Michael, accumulated and basically exploded.
This explosion consisted of why nots and what ifs and to hell with its. It had emotions and primal urges. It was full of recklessness, need and want. And, as a kicker, held such a weary sense of maybe finally getting something real and lasting and his.
It was all just this side of a straitjacket.
What it all boiled down to was that, basically, Michael smiled and Adam surged forward like a crazy person and kissed the archangel. Kissed him for all his puny little human life was worth.
Because, seriously, if he was going to be vaporized for doing it he was going to damn well get his money’s worth first.
When Michael started kissing back, it was all Adam could do not to melt into the hideous carpet. Hope sparked in his chest that maybe this wasn’t going to be the last thing he ever did. Other hopes began to spring up as well. Embarrassing, sappy, Dean-mockable hopes.
Hell, if it wasn’t for Michael licking his way into Adam’s mouth and performing various thought-stopping, toe-curling things with his tongue, there might have even been white-picket-fence-two-dogs-book-club shit swirling in Adam’s mind.
Reluctantly Adam pulled back to rest his forehead against the archangel’s, breathing deeply, his hands involuntarily clenching and unclenching on Michael’s hips.
‘Why?’
It wasn’t much of a question but Adam knew Michael would understand. Why kiss me back? Why are you still here? Why am I not a tiny pile of ash on the floor?
‘Because I love you. Or more accurately am in love with you.’
Adam leaned back to gape like a slapped goldfish as the angel continued.
‘I never imagined you would feel the same way little one. At least not as things were. Which was why I wanted a feminine vessel. Although your response to this one has been more than satisfactory. Your violent reaction was unpredicted but defiantly welcome. I had expected to have to pursue you for some time but am very glad for the change in plans. I hope you are able to forgive me but I was unable to stop myself from reading your thoughts as we kissed and I must say that you honor me with your feelings. I would very much like to raise two canines with you.’
If anyone asked, Adam kissed Michael to shut him up before it got anymore like a strange, awkwardly formal, robotic chick-flick.
It had nothing to do with the recurrence of that smile or Michael tracing his fingers gently down the side of Adam’s face. Honestly.
And if Dean wanted to make fun of the way Adam curled around his archangel as they sat on the couch or the goofy smile on Adams face as Michael proclaimed the “blonde girl in pink” to be “entirely too smug for her own good” and demanded to be allowed to control the “green reptile-like creature” so as to teach her a lesson, well, Adam could care less.
***
Meanwhile in the motel parking lot…
‘Hey Cas.’
Dean tried not to look smug as he dragged himself out from under the Impala. He really did. It’s not his fault he’d suddenly found himself much better at noticing the angel’s appearances.
Shielding his eyes from the sun with a hand, he looked up at Castiel, pleased to note the curious, intense and “you are always surprising me” head-tilt.
He also noticed that, for a fraction of a second, irritation crossed the angel’s face. If he didn’t know better he’d think Cas actually liked scaring the crap out of him and was looking forward to Dean bumping his head on the underside of his baby in surprise.
Then again, Dean’s never claimed to know better and surely Cas has progressed enough by now in the whole human emotions thing to have reached the joys of schadenfreude.
‘Hello Dean. It is good to see you.’
And, yeah, that was a lot more important than his musings on just how much Gabriel was corrupting the younger angel and whether Castiel was now watching Wipeout with the trickster.
Dean thrust the hand not over his eyes towards Cas, waiting until he grabbed it before starting what would become a joint effort to get him to his feet.
‘It’s about freaking time you showed up. I was beginning to miss your feathery ass. Well, a little.’
Getting his balance, Dean moved forward and wrapped Castiel in his arms, giving the angel a hug. After a few moments of hesitation, Cas moved his arms up and hugged Dean back just as tight.
Sure, you could quote every feeling-negative, macho, manly-man, anti-chick-flick thing Dean had ever said back at him right now. You know, as long as you were prepared to be told to shove it where the sun don’t shine.
Because Dean had lost him. The only real best friend he had ever had. More times than he cared to remember. The angel had died twice. For Dean. Had become God to stop a second apocalypse after he had watched Dean give up everything to stop the original. Had begged for forgiveness, pleaded for another chance before he was taken.
And, heaven help him, Dean had been willing to give them both. He was so ready to try to rebuild what they had. To have the possibility snatched away from him the way it was, hurt. More than he could put into words.
Sam could probably do it. Possibly in poem form. But then again he was a giant girl with a giant brain in his giant head.
The point was Cas was Cas and he was back and damn it if Dean was going to let his insecurities and pride get in the way ever again. Women hugged their friends all the time and no one called them out on it or made them feel stupid.
Of course, a woman probably would have let go by now. And they wouldn’t be smelling their friend’s hair like a creep.
Dean gave Castiel a final squeeze before releasing him and stepping back, pleased to see that the angel was just as reluctant to let go as Dean was.
‘I have missed you as well Dean. Quite a bit. I do hope I haven’t intruded at an inopportune time though. Is there something wrong with your car?’
Dean couldn’t help but feel warm at the concern in Cas’ voice. Love him, love his baby.
‘Nah, just caught me in a bit of routine maintenance is all. Nothing that can’t be finished later.’
Truth of the matter was that Dean was just fiddling around, not really doing anything and before Cas had arrived, had just awoken from a five minute nap he’d had while lying under the Impala. Being near his baby eased the tension that had been surrounding him and his brothers for days.
Earlier, after Dean and Adam had been having an entirely rational adult argument over superheroes, Sam had decided he’d had enough and was going to the library to find something to read. Dean had suggested he just wanted to get his hands on the next Twilight book. Adam had agreed. Samantha had pulled on his “grow a brain!”-bitchface and flounced out of the room like the princess he was.
Then Adam had decided to start up the video game. It had gone alright until he had snatched the controller out of Dean’s hands and threatened to do uncomfortable things with it to him. Apparently, according to Adam, high king of gaming etiquette, purposely going out of your way to target the other player and occasionally using you foot in his groin to distract him was cheating.

So Dean went out to the car. It was not running away. It was a strategic retreat. Besides, it couldn’t hurt to spend some quality time with the Impala.
But seeing Cas standing there, in all his trench coat wearing, almost smiling glory, he knew he’d rather spend time with his angel.
Yes, he said his. What are you going to do about it, huh? You get pulled out of hell by an angel then we’ll talk connections, ok.
He loved Castiel. And he loved Sam, Adam and Bobby. And, if pushed, would maybe admit to harboring grudgingly small amounts of affection and respect towards Crowley, Gabriel and even Michael. He’d possibly save the three of them if he had to. You know, from a fire or something. Point was, they were, inexplicably, all his and he didn’t like others messing with his stuff.
That’s all. Don’t read crap into crap when it’s not there!
‘So, Cas, what brings you down here? Feel like slumming it with us chumps for a while?’
Cas’ smile just got infinitesimally bigger. Sensitivity and articulacy were becoming less needed as Cas learned to hear what Dean didn’t say.
‘My brothers were rather impatient and determined to see yours. Michael has a new vessel, Gabriel’s handiwork, which requires approval. He looks to Adam now for such. And I was tactless enough to unwittingly inform Gabriel of Balthazar’s part in recent events. I’m afraid it may have been a catalyst to some sort of mental breakdown. Gabriel was acting much stranger than normal. I really must remember to apologize to Samuel the next time I see him.’
Dean was all prepared to be put out by the lack of “I wanted to see you, my BFF!” in that reason but Castiel cut off his complaint before it had time to form.
‘And of course I was just waiting for an excuse to return to you. It is odd, but I much prefer your company to that of my brothers despite how long I ached for the chance to return home. I guess, in some way, you are my home now. And Samuel, Adam, Robert and the Impala of course. But I just… I was curious as to whether I would be allowed to be with you. As friends. On a more permanent basis, I mean.’
Dean’s heart had just decided it knew all the chorography to Footloose and began to perform the whole thing in his chest. This was huge and new and life changing and… fuck, if he knew how to deal with it.
His brain automatically went into self-preservation mode, which basically involved a buttload of denial and focusing on a part of the conversation that (a) he could control, (b) allowed him to vent and (c) didn’t involve him.
Sam called this his “I’m going to be a dick because I’m emotionally constipated” technique.
‘Wait, so your brothers have things for mine? What the hell Cas? Screw that! Like I’m letting those asshats anywhere near Sammy and Adam. After all the shit they put us through. Stupid dick angels who only give a crap about the rules or their own agendas. Like my brothers would ever be interested anyway. As far as I know, neither of them swing that way. Fuck, they’re not even the same species!’
You know that feeling you get the moment you know you’ve said something so completely and monumentally stupid and hurtful that even you wouldn’t forgive you.
Dean was having that right now. It was a familiar feeling.
And the glare he got from Cas just made him feel worse.
‘I see. Well, I think I’ll just go and make sure my brothers aren’t traumatizing yours with their big, unrequited, gay, interspecies love. I will talk to you later Dean.’
And with that, Castiel was turning around and he was going to zap away and Dean was not losing his best friend again…
‘Castiel’
Cas turned at the use of his full name. His face appeared blank but his eyes told Dean that he had better make this good or the angel was going to disappear and Dean may never find out whether Cas learned the cutting sarcasm from him or Gabriel.
‘I am… Dude, I… Look, I’m sorry. It’s just that… well, you were laying some pretty heavy shit on me and stuff like that makes my mind short-circuit and then everything comes out in asshole. I didn’t really mean it. Ok, so I admit that I do think your brothers are kind of asshat-like at times and I’m really not sure if Sam or Adam are into dudes but…’
Cas’ expression hadn’t changed and Dean was starting to panic.
‘I am so sorry Cas. Please forgive me. I can’t… If I lost you again, I… Please, Cas. Don’t leave me.’
Castiel’s face softened and, as he reached out to place a hand on Dean’s shoulder, Dean realized he was hyperventilating and perhaps he should try to get that under control.
‘Dean Winchester, I could no more leave you for good as I could kill you. What we just had is called a fight. I believe they are quite common among people who are close. I will not leave you Dean. I could not. If we are ever separated, it will be against my will and because of forces beyond my control. My future is you for as long as you will allow it to be. Now, I must check in with my brothers for, if you are even slightly right, they may require consoling. I will return soon.’
Again, there was so much that overwhelmed him that Dean had to fight to keep his douchiness from showing.
Deciding it best to keep his mouth shut, Dean nodded before Cas turned to go. He seemed to be walking towards the room so Dean assumed Michael was in there with Adam.
Going back to the Impala, Dean wasn’t exactly sure what happened. One minute he was thinking about checking the oil and the next his mind was saying “Fuck this” and he was spinning around and striding towards his angel.
It was only later that he realized that Cas had turned back too and was coming towards Dean at the same pace.
Neither was sure who moved first or who leaned in the most but they were there, they were holding each other, they were kissing and it was glorious.
And that was the moment Dean realized that everything had led to this. The feel of Cas’ hands on his waist, the press of their chests together and the taste of Cas on his tongue. This was where and what they were always meant to be.
When they finally had to break apart to breathe, they stayed as close as possible, lips still brushing.
‘Took us long enough, didn’t it Cas? Sorry to keep you waiting.’
‘As am I. Although I would have waited forever. I do not believe your patience would have lasted so long.’
Their next kiss was full of laughter and almost grins. It was their first like that but Dean was determined it wouldn’t be their last.
***
Across town in the local library at approximately the same time…
‘So what? I’m gone for, like, three seconds and you’ve suddenly got a new favorite angel? A shiny, unfamiliar, taller angel shows up and what? I’m dropped like a shitty rag! I mean, you’re calling on him for help with rituals and stuff? Not that I would have helped keep your soul out of your body anyway. That’s just a bad idea all around, wrong on so many levels and I like Bobby, he’s got spunk but it would be nice to be asked, you know? I just feel really rejected and replaced. Seriously, he runs away from heaven, he’s snarky, hedonistic and morally ambiguous… Sound familiar at all? What’s he got that I don’t have besides a British accent? I thought we had something special Sam but now I just don’t know anymore!’
Sam maintains that there was so much wrong with that random collection of words masquerading as logical sentences that it would be unrealistic to expect his brain to process Gabriel’s nonsensical tirade in a timely manner.
So that excuses the blank stare and the “um”.
It really does.
Gabriel disagrees.
‘So now you’re not even talking to me? Well, that’s just great Samuel! Real mature. After everything we’ve been through, everything I’ve done for you? I don’t know how you expect us to fix our relationship if you won’t meet me halfway. When you’re ready to act like an adult and reopen the lines of communication, I’ll be over there.’
With a hair-flick, Gabriel stomped away from where he had been standing in front of Sam with his hands on his hips, to another table on the other side of the room.
Sitting down dramatically, although Sam doubts he could ever not do something dramatically, Gabriel put on a magnificent pout, turned slightly away from Sam so the hunter could still see his sad-puppy-face and stared pointedly out the window with his arms crossed.
It really was a spectacular sulk. Sam had to give the archangel that. Way better than any Adam had done lately.
And he supposed that now was when he was supposed to hurry after Gabriel and apologize. But hell if he knew what for.
Sam took a few deep breaths to steady the words, like “favorite”, “special” and “relationship”, that were bouncing around inside his brain. When the world seemed a little less shaky, he went back over everything that Gabriel had said since he had appeared suddenly in front of Sam’s corner table at the library and snatched the book out of his hand.
It still didn’t make much sense.
Plus, every response he had to offer would more than likely end with Gabriel smiting the crap out of him given the mood the archangel was in.
“Who said you were my favorite anything?” Smote!
“Even if you were around I wouldn’t have called on you for help with that.” Smote!
“The only something special we have is the fact you killed my brother a bazillion times and I didn’t gank you for it.” Smote!
“What relationship you bipolar nut job?” Smote-edy smote smote!
And the most smote worthy of all and the main response Sam kept coming back to?
“You were dead.”
Because he was. And no amount of uncomfortable clenching from Sam’s stomach or twisting from his chest would change that. It was fact.
But that didn’t mean that Sam thought it would be particularly polite to bring it up. And Dean had taught him manners. Obviously he had a “do as I say, not as I do” teaching policy but that was neither here nor there.
It was manners that had him up and walking towards Gabriel before he had thought of what he was going to say when he got there. Sam didn’t want to keep him waiting. As he sat down across from the archangel, Gabriel turned towards him expectantly, eyes hard.
‘You were dead.’
So, apparently he had a death wish. And far more issues than he had realized.
Because it didn’t come out as a bland statement of fact or a friendly reminder. It didn’t even have an “I’m sick of your shit. You’re ridiculous and this is why” edge to it.
When Sam said the words they were soft, raw, kind of broken and so full of undeserved blame. And Sam felt them. Felt the way he had denied he’d felt when he’d first watched the DVD.
Because for a long time he was dead. Gabriel had died for them and he had left them. Just when it seemed he’d be there. He knew it wasn’t the archangel’s fault but that didn’t stop him from wanting to scream at Gabriel. To yell at him and tell him off for being such a stupid self-sacrificing bastard. To shout right in his face about not being good enough to evade death yet again. About not being able to fake it once more.
Fuck, this stuff shouldn’t still hurt so much.
Gabriel’s whole body just seemed to slump. His eyes softened quicker than Sam had ever seen anyone’s do before and Dean’s were always super fast.
With lightning speed, he was reaching across table and covering one of Sam’s much bigger hands with both of his own.
‘Oh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy. I am so sorry. If I had known how everything would go down… that you’d say yes and manage to kick butt like that? I would have fought so much harder to be there with you. I’d just assumed we were all pretty screwed and why not go with the Hail Mary play? You’re always surprising me Kiddo. That’s why I like you.’
Sam figures this whole handholding thing should be a lot more awkward than what it is. Also the judgmental-vaguely homophobic-small town glares from the other library patrons should probably be a lot more embarrassing than what they were.
But, with all the weird, awkward, confusing and just downright odd stuff that was going on, Sam was about 86% certain he was dreaming and he’d awake soon to a drool-stained book. At least that’s what Sam hoped was happening because Dean was the one with the epic unresolved angel love story he didn‘t realize he was in, not him.
Even Adam was more aware of his angel crush-like feelings than Dean was.
‘Gabriel, I… this is just strange. What about I admit that I like you way more than I ever liked Balthazar and that I’m sorry for not considering your feeling, even though you weren’t really around for me to think about considering them and…Ugh! And I’m really sorry that I keep bringing up that you died because it couldn’t have been pleasant for you and its kind of rude of me. So, anyway if I do that can you just forgive me and we can go back to being tentative friend-like colleagues?’
‘Tentative friend-like colleagues?’
‘Ow! I have bones in my hands you know?… Do you think we’re friends? You annoy the crap out of me, only show up when you want something and steal my shit. I couldn’t imagine why we wouldn’t be friends. I’m still picking chocolate bits out of my hair. Ow, ow, ow… Fine! We’re friends! Happy?’
‘It’ll do for now.’
‘Temperamental brat.’
Sam realizes that, no matter how quietly he said that last part, Gabriel still heard him. But he’s not currently sporting donkey ears so he’s probably been given a free pass.
Or Gabriel’s waiting to pay him back when he least expects it.
Honestly, Sam is kind of glad of the dull fear of retribution. It helped distract him from the “for now” part of Gabriel’s response, the fact that they were still technically holding hands and that even during the pain Sam had never seriously tried to pull away.
All very troubling things on their own but put together equaled one big WTF.
‘What’s that huge, unusually shaped noggin of yours thinking about Kiddo? Because frown lines on a forehead like that just aren’t attractive.’
Sam’s not going to be insulted. He is the duck and Gabriel’s stupid, mean, sucky, immature comments are the water.
‘Nothing much. I mean… I’m just… very confused. I want to go back an hour. Back to a time when I hadn’t had a depressive episode regarding your death. A time when I was reading quietly, we weren’t holding hands and I could never imagine the phrase “our relationship” coming out your mouth. A simpler, easier time.’
Obviously that was the wrong thing to say because he was looking at the back of Gabriel’s head and the angels hands were gone from his. And damn everything if he didn’t miss their warmth.
‘Well, if that’s the way you feel, you could have just said something. I thought we were on the same page but you obviously have a different book entirely. I’m so sorry to have ruined your day. Go back to your precious reading and I’ll just sit here by myself and wait to take you back to your brothers when you’re finished. Unless you’d rather walk than travel with someone like me?’
Good God, what the hell was going on? Do angel’s PMS? Hit menopause? Because this was mental.
Sam felt like the husband from a sitcom who was at the complete mercy of his wife’s hormones. Or his toddler’s temper-tantrum.
This wasn’t Gabriel. Wasn’t the witty, interesting, funny and mischievous Gabriel that Sam knew and lo… liked.
‘Gabriel. Come on. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just all a little too much don’t you think. You barely come back from the dead, you leave again for over a month and then come back expecting us to be besties. I’m just a little out of my depth here.’
No response. Fine.
‘What the fuck is wrong with you today?’
He could have worded it better but Sam was finding his patience a little thin.
Gabriel swung back around, eyes blazing with anger. In a second he had Sam pinned against a row of books, the archangel’s arm pressing across his chest.
‘Wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I’ve been wooing you for fucking ever, I died for you and you still treat me like someone you’re forced to deal with. I love the fact you play hard to get Sam, I adore a good chase, but this is getting ridiculous. I haven’t gotten laid since I was brought back, I’m a little on edge and then I find out you’d been hanging around that snotty upstart Balthazar? So yeah, I’m a little upset and… Dear Dad, I think I’m losing my mind. Over a fucking human.’
Sam saw Gabriel deflate and he was suddenly freed. But it didn’t matter. He still couldn’t move.
Not even the murmurs of “Damn Winchesters, ruining everything” helped to shake the revelations Sam had just had.
Although whether he was more unsettled about the wooing part or the archangel’s can use the F-word part he wasn’t sure.
‘Wooing? I… you can’t be serious. The way you treat me, I… Oh God, you’ve been pulling my pigtails haven’t you? The time loop? The herpes commercial? The M&M’s? Gabriel! Even if I was interested in you pursuing me, this is not the way to do it. I have Dean as an older brother and main role model. Think less subtle and more flashing neon brick to the forehead.’
Sam thought it was indicative of his life that he was actually having this conversation at all, let alone quite loudly in a library where everyone seemed magically unaware of their presence.
‘But it’s all a moot point anyway. I’m not… and you’re… and we…It’s all just not, ok? Please can we just be friends and can you stop being so mad at me. It’s upsetting to be yelled at for something you didn’t even realize was happening. I do actually want to be your friend though’
Gabriel appeared to be taking it well. He looked up at Sam with open curiosity.
‘Flashing neon brick, you say? Hmm...”
‘Really? That’s all you got from that? I swear Gabriel, you…’
Gabriel was kissing him. Gabriel, the archangel, was kissing him. Like the fate of the world depended on it.
Sam was a little fuzzy on the details and specifics, because he was pretty sure there were some serious height difference issues they should be dealing with, but that could have been because of how good it was.
And it was brain-meltingly good and… Oh!
It’s amazing how much clearer everything becomes when you stop lying to yourself.
Sam wrapped his arms around Gabriel, pulling the angel closer than he thought possible and opened willingly under his questioning tongue.
Why exactly haven’t they been doing this sooner?
Then the archangel was pulling away.
‘Getting it now, Sammy? Or do I need to spell it out more?’
Sam glared as he surged after Gabriel’s lips with his own.
When he felt Gabriel’s legs locking around his hips, Sam knew the illusion had been broken and the archangel needed to justify his defiance of gravity. Despite the rationale, the action still made Sam moan into Gabriel’s mouth.
Of course the consequences of rejoining the world interrupted them too soon for Sam’s liking, in the form of an irate librarian tapping on Gabriel’s shoulder to remind them it was a library not a brothel.
They didn’t try to stem their laughter as they stumbled out of the library together and into the sunlight, hands entwined.
***
When Bobby got the call a day later to add three extra spaces for Thanksgiving dinner, he wasn’t actually surprised.
Nor did it shock him that they didn’t want any more than their planned room each.
But he was a little pissed that he owed Crowley twenty bucks and a bottle of scotch.
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A/N 2: The author would like to state for the record that all opinions expressed within this story are the characters own and in no way reflect her personal views. She doesn't mind Balthazar... and she never plays as anyone but Peach. Girl power FTW!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Probably for the best really
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Kiss me, Stupid!