Rebuilding
Title: Rebuilding
Author: bballgirl3022
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Gabriel
Spoilers: Season 5
Warnings: Sex, a tiny bit of swearing
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or make a profit for this.
Summary: Dean’s world was torn apart after the apocalypse. Can anyone help him put it back together?
Word Count: 1,245
Notes: This was written for the deangabriel first year celebration challenge. Also for moonofblindness who wanted to do this challenge, but had a big bang to finish.
Thanks to moonofblindness for the beta work. All other mistakes are my own.
Rebuilding
The apocalypse tore Dean’s world to shreds.
It was heartbreaking watching Sam jump into the pit while taking Adam with him. His whole life was gone in an instant to save a planet that would never know the sacrifices that he and others had made. Dean gave up everything so that others could continue their everyday lives.
Where did that leave Dean though? Driving alone from a family he’d lost towards one he didn’t belong in. He didn’t even have friends he could go to; except Bobby, but Dean couldn’t look at Bobby without thinking of Sam. And those thoughts only caused pain to flare in his chest.
Not even Castiel was helpful. The new super-charged angel told him a whole bunch of crap that Dean already knew. Dean didn’t want paradise, he wanted more of the same, but only if that meant Sam was going to be beside him, riding shotgun and complaining about Dean’s taste in music.
It was well after dark when Dean pulled into a motel to call it a night. He wasn’t that far from Lisa’s, but he needed a few hours rest in order to steal himself for the lifestyle change he promised Sam he’d make. Dean still would do anything for Sam even if there was no chance of him ever coming back.
The hunter fell into a fitful sleep. He dreamed of his time in Hell, only substituting Sam for himself on the rack. His brain conjured up terrifying images of torture worse than Dean ever endured.
He woke up in a cold sweat and downed a large portion of the whisky on the bedside table. It played a large role in the hunter’s attempts to drown his sorrows before sleep claimed him.
“Looks like someone is having trouble sleeping.”
That voice. Dean knew that voice; it made his skin feel both hot and cold. This couldn’t be happening. was it possible that he was still asleep?
“You’re not asleep. And try not to be so enthusiastic to see my handsome face.”
“You’re supposed to be dead, Gabriel.” Dean’s voice sounded calm, but there was a storm of emotions brewing underneath.
“Dean, Dean. Haven’t you learned anything about me? I’m nothing if not resourceful.” That smug bastard.
“So what? You just faked your death,” the hunter questioned. “All to get Sam and I to go along with your long-shot of a plan?”
“Exactly,” Gabriel responded smiling brightly.
Something broke in Dean. He was on his feet with the archangel slammed against the wall seconds later. The plaster cracked from the force of Gabriel’s body.
“You think this is funny? I lost my whole life because of that plan. And what did you have to give up?”
Gabriel’s face contorted in anger. “I lost two brothers in the pit as well, Dean. All so your ragtag little group cold save the planet from being roasted. Do you have any idea how much I put on the line to help you? How, if you failed that I would have been hunted like an animal? So don’t pretend you were the only one with something to lose.”
The room was blanketed in tension. Emotions were running high. Dean’s breath was coming in short pants. His muscles were tense and he wanted nothing more than to punch something or breakdown crying. There was a heat creeping under his skin and he realized exactly how close he was to the archangel. They were pressed together from chest to thigh. The warmth radiating from Gabriel was noticeable and made Dean’s skin start to flush.
The hunter smashed their mouths together. Their teeth clashed and their tongues tangled. It was desperate and aggressive. Dean needed this; needed something on which to take out his frustration and Gabriel was convenient.
Gabriel spread his legs to allow Dean further into his space. It gave the hunter better access to roll their hips together, allowing Dean’s hard length to brush against Gabriel’s through layers of denim.
There were too many clothes in the way to accomplish what Dean wanted. His skin felt too hot and too tight. As soon as that thought had time to solidify in his mind, the fabric separating the two was gone.
Dean broke the kiss to groan out at the sweet new friction the skin on skin action created. Gabriel deemed this the perfect opportunity to mouth at the hunter’s jaw. The action brings a memory to the forefront of Dean’s mind. A memory of a conversation they had before Gabriel went off and fake died.
Bite me, Gabriel.
Maybe later, big boy.
A chuckle erupted from the archangel currently in Dean’s arms. “I meant what I said,” he whispered, voice lower than usual before nipping at Dean’s pulse point and then soothing it with his tongue. The hunter’s hips buck in response to the harsh treatment.
“Fuck, Gabe,” Dean panted. “We need lube. Now.”
There was a snap and Dean’s fingers ended up coated. The hunter wasted no time in pushing one finger in and exploring the tight heat of the archangel. Dean’s digits fumbled in search of the spongy bundle of nerves. Dean was sure he had found it when Gabriel bit down at his shoulder. The teeth marks would most certainly be there tomorrow.
He prepped Gabriel quickly after that. Two, then three fingers; one right after the other.
Dean’s fingers withdrew only to be replaced with his cock. Gabriel was opening and stretching to accommodate something much larger. The velvety heat felt glorious around Dean’s blood flushed length.
The hunter’s thrust started hard and quick. Sharp jabs to the archangel’s sweet spot. Something changed. Maybe the angry adrenaline wore off to reveal something softer, more intimate. Feelings Dean wasn’t aware were growing somewhere deep inside himself, until the flowers had bloomed into something he wasn’t quite comfortable feeling.
Their coupling took on a new tune. Thrusts were slower, deeper; the hunter dragging his cock through Gabriel’s insides. It was more than just a physical act now, Dean could feel that now. The emotional intensity was thick between then.
Gabriel must have noticed it too because he was coming from the friction of their bellies alone. He writhed and moaned in Dean’s arms. Witnessing something as powerful as Gabriel lose control tossed the hunter over the edge toward his own orgasm.
Dean was exhausted from the combination of his own weight and Gabriel’s, but he didn’t have much time to concentrate on his fatigue before he was lying on a bed, softer than the one on which he fell asleep. He was eternally grateful toward Gabriel and tugged the archangel into the circle of his arms; tangling their bodies together in a sweaty heap of limbs.
The hunter blamed the emotional link that passed between them for the tears that started to fall, because Dean Winchester does not cry after sex.
“Sam is gone,” he sobbed pitifully. The words don’t bring the sweet relief that Dean so desperately sought. “I can’t go to Lisa. I’m a broken mess. I can’t bring that into her life. I don’t know where to go,” he finished in a whisper.
“Shh, Dean. It’s OK. I’ll stay with you. We’ll make this work. Hunting, staying put, whatever you want. I’ll be right there with you,” Gabriel vowed.
It was that promise that remained with Dean after he dropped off; worn out physically and emotionally, while he rested more peacefully, completely surrounded by his archangel.