Remember Me In The Morning
Title: Remember Me In The Morning
Author: paracaerouvoar
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Summary: Sam's drinking to forget. Gabriel wants him to remember.
Warning: Um, angst? Boysex? IDK.
You can't save the world with tequila, but Sam Winchester was sure as hell going to try and stop it turning.
Eight shots later, the world apparently still exists; just with a fuzzy glaze and the warped sounds of the back alley bar he sits in that charge five bucks for a shot. He stares blearily at his empty glass, a dribble of liquor running down the side, contemplating running his finger round the rim to catch it, but deciding that if he moves his other elbow even an inch, he'll fall on his face. For a few seconds, he contemplates risking it.
Nah. Too much effort. Instead he fumbles for the bartender to bring him more alcohol and is met with a stern glance. He attempts a burning glare, but suspecting it came off more confused than enraged, he settles for downing the shot placed reluctantly in front of him.
Or rather, he knocks an empty glass against his teeth and stares at it in confusion, blinking at the vanished liquid. A chuckle from the bar stool to his drags his attention sideways, where he's met with the missing shot and one altogether too jovial archangel. 'Fuc' 'ou,' he mumbles, making a halfhearted swipe for the glass of amber liquid in the former Trickster's hand, missing when Gabriel leans back slightly, long fingers grasping Sam's wrist as he leans back in to whisper into the bigger man's ear.
'Maybe if you ask real nice, darlin'.' The words are hot and heady in Sam's ears, and drunk or not, his dick gives an interested twitch. He loses his balance and leans back dangerously far, flailing almost comically for purchase on the slippery leather stool when suddenly there's a warm chest against his back and strong arms hooked under his, holding him steady, if not exactly upright. 'OK, Winchester, let's get you back to the motel room where you can pass out in private.'
Sam considers struggling, but again decides it's too much effort when he'll only fall over without Gabriel's help. So he does his best to stand under his own power while the angel shifts around, ducking his head under one of Sam's arms, arm around his waist and half carrying, half dragging him towards the door, clicking his fingers gently to pay for the drinks. Once they get outside, he dispenses with the human act and clicks again. Sam blinks blearily, and the scene changes from the grungy parking lot outside the bar to the grungy motel room across the road, complete with maroon and lilac wallpaper. Gabriel removes the arm from his waist, and Sam's knees slowly give in, sending him crumpling to the comforter.
Sam puts a hand to his head, blinking hard a few times to clear his vision, and when he looks up, Gabriel has shed his jacket and shoes, and is lounging in the chair next to him, gazing at him intently. It makes Sam uncomfortable, and he looks away after a few seconds, flushing slightly. He blinks again as his vision blurs, and shakes his head slightly, instantly regretting it as the sensation of six inch nails being hammered into his skull makes itself known and he winces, clutching at his head. The bed dips under a weight, and he looks up into Gabriel's seemingly concerned face as he peers into Sam's eyes. 'You got p'etty eyes,' Sam slurs, and Gabriel chuckles.
'Thanks kid. You must be really drunk. We've gone from fucking me to my pretty eyes in two minutes,' Gabriel muses. 'which I think is a record even for me.'
Sam watches his lips as the angel talks, shaping the words elegantly as one corner curls up into a small smile. He lunges forward, covering Gabriel's lips with his own and licking his way into the smaller man's mouth. The angel curls a hand under Sam's chin and another into his hair as Sam swirls his tongue inside Gabriel's mouth. They part and Sam starts kissing and biting down his neck, but Gabriel stills him with a hand. Sam looks up at him, unaware of the effect of his big brown 'puppy' eyes. Gabriel presses a chaste kiss to his lips, before explaining. 'As much as I love uninhibited Sam, I would also like you to remember this in the morning.'
Another click of his fingers, and Sam's head clears, the blurry vision goes, as does the nail gun shooting stuff into his skull. He blinks a couple of times, trying to decipher the tequila tinted memories that led to him being straddled by an archangel. He looks into Gabriel's hazel eyes again, and the smaller man sits perfectly still, watching him. 'Do you still want to do this?' he asks, still not moving.
Sam thinks about it. He honestly thinks about it. And Gabriel sits there, statue-still like only an angel can be and they watch each other in silence. He answers by grabbing the collar of the angel's shirt and pulling him down, pressing lips to lips and snaking a hand round to the nape of Gabriel's neck as he deepens the kiss. Gabriel smiles into it, and Sam rolls them so he's on top, kissing and licking his way down Gabriel's neck. It's still tacky from the drunken bites he'd placed there before, so he licks the remnants of alcohol away, grinning into the vibrations from the hum that rockets up Gabriel's throat. He reaches the collarbone and nibbles gently on side, and then the other, one hand on the angel's chest, holding him down, the other gripping at his hip, hard enough to leave bruises, plum-coloured starbursts where his fingers had been.
Gabriel runs a hand along the hem of Sam's shirt, lifting it up to drag a finger along under the waistband of his jeans. Sam grabs at Gabriel's ass, pulling their erections together as they let out twin moans. The angel pushes Sam's shirt up and over the other man's head, dropping it in a crumpled heap by the side of the bed. His own shirt follows, as do Gabriel's pants. He snaps lube into existence and rolls out from under Sam, straddling the bigger man's thighs. Sam's pants have mysteriously vanished, and a cushion has materialised under his hips, elevating his ass slightly. Gabe warms the lube between his hands and works a single digit into Sam, slowly enough that by the time he's reached the second knuckle, Sam's writhing on the bed, hands fisting in the covers. He adds another finger, scissoring gently, going at his own speed, ignoring Sam's pants of 'fuck, just fuck me'.
Another finger is added, by this time Sam's nearly incoherent with need and want and lust, the tendons in his hands sticking out dangerously far with the strength he's gripping onto the comforter. Gabriel licks a slow stripe up Sam's back before removing his fingers suddenly and replacing them with his cock, so swift that Sam shudders into it, the ring of muscle fluttering at the stretch. Buried balls deep, Gabriel pauses for a few seconds, soaking in the warmth of the bigger man, adjusting to the tightness and the all encompassing heat before he pulls almost all the way out, tip of his cock lingering at the entrance before he thrusts back in again, coaxing a sound out of Sam that he's never heard before from the hunter. Shifting his hips to change the angle, he then sets up a steady pace of in and out, Sam's hips juddering every so often, Gabriel's cock brushing over his prostate and encouraging more unintelligible babble to drip from Sam's lips. The angel's lips curl into a smile and he pauses, deep inside Sam to lean over and whisper into his ear, brushing the sweat slick stands of hair off his neck. 'You still want this, babe?' he breathes, punctuating it with a tug on Sam's earlobe with sharp teeth, a kiss on his temple, gently sucking on the place where the hunter's pulse runs hot up his neck.
Sam swallows, tries to speak, swallows again. 'Yeah, I... yeah,' he rasps, working his throat furiously. Gabriel presses another kiss to his temple before pulling out of Sam and slamming back in, eliciting a yelp from equal parts pain and pleasure. This new pace is furious and frantic, and has Sam arching his back and screaming into the pillow. The muscles in his ass clench and Gabe comes with him, spilling hot white streams inside Sam, Sam shooting long strings over the bed, the comforter, pulled half off, the pillow under his hips long since shoved to one side.
Sam tries to push himself up on his elbows, but all his bones are jelly and he sinks back down, Gabriel on him, in him, around him. He turns his face to one side and slants his eyes up at the sated angel, who grins wearily. 'Worth it?' he asks, pulling out of Sam and rolling over on to his side, prodding his head up with one hand. He clicks his fingers and the room is clean, Sam covered up to his hips with a sheet and Gabriel wearing a pair of faded jeans, the same pair that were pulled off minutes earlier.
It's Sam's turn to smile, all the lines in his face smoothing until he looks a decade younger. 'Definitely.'
Author: paracaerouvoar
Rating: R
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Summary: Sam's drinking to forget. Gabriel wants him to remember.
Warning: Um, angst? Boysex? IDK.
You can't save the world with tequila, but Sam Winchester was sure as hell going to try and stop it turning.
Eight shots later, the world apparently still exists; just with a fuzzy glaze and the warped sounds of the back alley bar he sits in that charge five bucks for a shot. He stares blearily at his empty glass, a dribble of liquor running down the side, contemplating running his finger round the rim to catch it, but deciding that if he moves his other elbow even an inch, he'll fall on his face. For a few seconds, he contemplates risking it.
Nah. Too much effort. Instead he fumbles for the bartender to bring him more alcohol and is met with a stern glance. He attempts a burning glare, but suspecting it came off more confused than enraged, he settles for downing the shot placed reluctantly in front of him.
Or rather, he knocks an empty glass against his teeth and stares at it in confusion, blinking at the vanished liquid. A chuckle from the bar stool to his drags his attention sideways, where he's met with the missing shot and one altogether too jovial archangel. 'Fuc' 'ou,' he mumbles, making a halfhearted swipe for the glass of amber liquid in the former Trickster's hand, missing when Gabriel leans back slightly, long fingers grasping Sam's wrist as he leans back in to whisper into the bigger man's ear.
'Maybe if you ask real nice, darlin'.' The words are hot and heady in Sam's ears, and drunk or not, his dick gives an interested twitch. He loses his balance and leans back dangerously far, flailing almost comically for purchase on the slippery leather stool when suddenly there's a warm chest against his back and strong arms hooked under his, holding him steady, if not exactly upright. 'OK, Winchester, let's get you back to the motel room where you can pass out in private.'
Sam considers struggling, but again decides it's too much effort when he'll only fall over without Gabriel's help. So he does his best to stand under his own power while the angel shifts around, ducking his head under one of Sam's arms, arm around his waist and half carrying, half dragging him towards the door, clicking his fingers gently to pay for the drinks. Once they get outside, he dispenses with the human act and clicks again. Sam blinks blearily, and the scene changes from the grungy parking lot outside the bar to the grungy motel room across the road, complete with maroon and lilac wallpaper. Gabriel removes the arm from his waist, and Sam's knees slowly give in, sending him crumpling to the comforter.
Sam puts a hand to his head, blinking hard a few times to clear his vision, and when he looks up, Gabriel has shed his jacket and shoes, and is lounging in the chair next to him, gazing at him intently. It makes Sam uncomfortable, and he looks away after a few seconds, flushing slightly. He blinks again as his vision blurs, and shakes his head slightly, instantly regretting it as the sensation of six inch nails being hammered into his skull makes itself known and he winces, clutching at his head. The bed dips under a weight, and he looks up into Gabriel's seemingly concerned face as he peers into Sam's eyes. 'You got p'etty eyes,' Sam slurs, and Gabriel chuckles.
'Thanks kid. You must be really drunk. We've gone from fucking me to my pretty eyes in two minutes,' Gabriel muses. 'which I think is a record even for me.'
Sam watches his lips as the angel talks, shaping the words elegantly as one corner curls up into a small smile. He lunges forward, covering Gabriel's lips with his own and licking his way into the smaller man's mouth. The angel curls a hand under Sam's chin and another into his hair as Sam swirls his tongue inside Gabriel's mouth. They part and Sam starts kissing and biting down his neck, but Gabriel stills him with a hand. Sam looks up at him, unaware of the effect of his big brown 'puppy' eyes. Gabriel presses a chaste kiss to his lips, before explaining. 'As much as I love uninhibited Sam, I would also like you to remember this in the morning.'
Another click of his fingers, and Sam's head clears, the blurry vision goes, as does the nail gun shooting stuff into his skull. He blinks a couple of times, trying to decipher the tequila tinted memories that led to him being straddled by an archangel. He looks into Gabriel's hazel eyes again, and the smaller man sits perfectly still, watching him. 'Do you still want to do this?' he asks, still not moving.
Sam thinks about it. He honestly thinks about it. And Gabriel sits there, statue-still like only an angel can be and they watch each other in silence. He answers by grabbing the collar of the angel's shirt and pulling him down, pressing lips to lips and snaking a hand round to the nape of Gabriel's neck as he deepens the kiss. Gabriel smiles into it, and Sam rolls them so he's on top, kissing and licking his way down Gabriel's neck. It's still tacky from the drunken bites he'd placed there before, so he licks the remnants of alcohol away, grinning into the vibrations from the hum that rockets up Gabriel's throat. He reaches the collarbone and nibbles gently on side, and then the other, one hand on the angel's chest, holding him down, the other gripping at his hip, hard enough to leave bruises, plum-coloured starbursts where his fingers had been.
Gabriel runs a hand along the hem of Sam's shirt, lifting it up to drag a finger along under the waistband of his jeans. Sam grabs at Gabriel's ass, pulling their erections together as they let out twin moans. The angel pushes Sam's shirt up and over the other man's head, dropping it in a crumpled heap by the side of the bed. His own shirt follows, as do Gabriel's pants. He snaps lube into existence and rolls out from under Sam, straddling the bigger man's thighs. Sam's pants have mysteriously vanished, and a cushion has materialised under his hips, elevating his ass slightly. Gabe warms the lube between his hands and works a single digit into Sam, slowly enough that by the time he's reached the second knuckle, Sam's writhing on the bed, hands fisting in the covers. He adds another finger, scissoring gently, going at his own speed, ignoring Sam's pants of 'fuck, just fuck me'.
Another finger is added, by this time Sam's nearly incoherent with need and want and lust, the tendons in his hands sticking out dangerously far with the strength he's gripping onto the comforter. Gabriel licks a slow stripe up Sam's back before removing his fingers suddenly and replacing them with his cock, so swift that Sam shudders into it, the ring of muscle fluttering at the stretch. Buried balls deep, Gabriel pauses for a few seconds, soaking in the warmth of the bigger man, adjusting to the tightness and the all encompassing heat before he pulls almost all the way out, tip of his cock lingering at the entrance before he thrusts back in again, coaxing a sound out of Sam that he's never heard before from the hunter. Shifting his hips to change the angle, he then sets up a steady pace of in and out, Sam's hips juddering every so often, Gabriel's cock brushing over his prostate and encouraging more unintelligible babble to drip from Sam's lips. The angel's lips curl into a smile and he pauses, deep inside Sam to lean over and whisper into his ear, brushing the sweat slick stands of hair off his neck. 'You still want this, babe?' he breathes, punctuating it with a tug on Sam's earlobe with sharp teeth, a kiss on his temple, gently sucking on the place where the hunter's pulse runs hot up his neck.
Sam swallows, tries to speak, swallows again. 'Yeah, I... yeah,' he rasps, working his throat furiously. Gabriel presses another kiss to his temple before pulling out of Sam and slamming back in, eliciting a yelp from equal parts pain and pleasure. This new pace is furious and frantic, and has Sam arching his back and screaming into the pillow. The muscles in his ass clench and Gabe comes with him, spilling hot white streams inside Sam, Sam shooting long strings over the bed, the comforter, pulled half off, the pillow under his hips long since shoved to one side.
Sam tries to push himself up on his elbows, but all his bones are jelly and he sinks back down, Gabriel on him, in him, around him. He turns his face to one side and slants his eyes up at the sated angel, who grins wearily. 'Worth it?' he asks, pulling out of Sam and rolling over on to his side, prodding his head up with one hand. He clicks his fingers and the room is clean, Sam covered up to his hips with a sheet and Gabriel wearing a pair of faded jeans, the same pair that were pulled off minutes earlier.
It's Sam's turn to smile, all the lines in his face smoothing until he looks a decade younger. 'Definitely.'