fic: Coming Home - helpthesouth fic - Sam/Gabriel, NC-17
Title: Coming Home
Author: wolfish_willow
Pairing/Genre: Sam/Gabriel, Domestic-ish AU
Rating: NC-17 (It snuck up on me, lol)
Word Count: 4,053
Warnings: None, really… AU?
Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN or these characters, I’m just having a little fun with them. ;D
Summary: Sam’s recently moved into Gabriel’s house, but it doesn’t feel quite like home yet. This is how Gabriel fixes that.
Notes: This was written for cageyklio who bid on me in helpthesouth. I really hope you like this! I ended up mixing two of the prompts together and this is what happened: Bartender!Gabriel, Bouncer!Sam, and the beginnings of domestic bliss. Hope it worked out. ;D
Notes 2: So much thanks to insertcode11 for the awesome beta and listening to me freak out over whether this was any good. *smishes you* But I had to go through a second time because I couldn’t help myself so any remaining mistakes are my own. :D
Notes 3: (Last one, I swear) Where the hell did all this smut come from? IDEK, man. It snuck into the fic and then took over and I don't know if I've ever written this much of it before, but I feel kind of accomplished. I just wanted to share that with you all. LOL
Sam leans heavily against Gabriel, having long gotten over his boyfriend’s uncanny ability to take on most of his weight even with their height difference. His body feels loose, his feet stumbling every few steps and Sam can’t stop smiling. But when he turns his head and looks down, Gabriel is wearing the same silly grin on his face so Sam doesn’t think he minds his boyfriend smiling like a goof.
They’ve been together for a year now. Sam met Gabriel when he walked into a colorful bar that stood out from many he’d been in by the music alone - classic rock instead of the more popular, and grating in Sam’s opinion, rap and dance styles. The bass was good, rhythm reverberating through Sam’s chest when he stepped inside looking for whatever job they would be willing to give him.
Sam brushes his hair off his face and sighs when it falls back into his eyes. Steppenwolf’s Born to be Wild pounds in the background as he pushes the door open and weaves through groups of people to reach the crowded bar. He almost trips, thankfully gaining control of his balance before making a fool of himself, at the sight of the bartender. The bar is dark, somehow hazy even without any evidence - smell or otherwise - that people have been smoking but Sam can still make out the man’s honey brown hair. He’s shorter than Sam from the looks of it - shorter than many of the people he’s taking drink orders from as well - but the man is standing tall, shoulders up and back straight as he pours a tall glass of beer from the tap with confident, deft movements that speak of familiarity in his task. His eyes, that Sam can’t make out the color of in the dim lighting of the bar, are bright, the corners of them crinkled as he laughs at one of the more drunken patrons swaying and gesturing wildly, talking about something Sam can’t hear over the music from where he’s standing behind the line of people along the bar. Sam envies the carefree way the bartender throws his head back in amusement before looking back at the man in front of him, smirk playing at his lips before he’s moving on to the next customer and expertly mixing the ingredients for what looks like a Long Island Iced Tea.
Gradually the crowd at the bar thins out, people migrating to their tables or to play darts or pool, or even the various arcade games lined up along the far wall. A few people still occupy their stools - a young couple leaning towards each other while they sip their drinks, a few men who look like they’re alone for the night, no one but their alcohol and frequent refills to keep them company - but it’s calmed down enough that Sam catches the bartender’s eye and attention and he straightens himself from the natural slouch he’d assumed when walking into the building full of people, most of whom were shorter than him. He doesn’t always like his height, especially how it’s nearly impossible to remain anonymous even in a crowd, but Sam came here hoping to get a job and he won’t accomplish that if he looks uncomfortable just standing in the room.
"What can I getcha?" the man asks, eyes - even brighter so close up and shining almost golden in the dim light overhead - looking Sam up and down before settling on his face. For someone so much shorter than Sam, the bartender doesn’t look nearly as uncomfortable tilting his head back to meet Sam’s eyes the way some do. Probably because he’s just short enough to have to look up at most of the bar’s patrons.
"A job, I hope," Sam says, smiling and stretching a hand out. "I’m Sam Winchester and I’m looking for work."
The man smirks, eyes trailing up his body, slower than before. He shakes Sam’s hand with a firm grip, "Well, I’m Gabriel and I think I’ve got just the thing."
According to Gabriel, the bartender had taken one look at Sam’s height and decided he’d make the perfect bouncer, something the bar had been sorely lacking in since their last one up and quit. He’d been wary, and more than a little nervous, at first. Fighting doesn’t come naturally to him beyond the rough housing tumbles he and his brother, Dean, sometimes - always - get into. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to use his own strength and defend himself or others. He just doesn’t enjoy being put in that position - unlike his brother, who became a cop because it was the only way to put his need to save people to good use short of becoming some vigilante in a cape. At least as a cop, he handles everything legally.
But in the year and a half he’s been working at Rough House, Sam hasn’t had to do more than stretch up to his full height with a dark look on his face that he secretly practiced in front of the bar’s restroom mirror - only to have Gabriel walk in and see and mock him endlessly for ever since. Sam doesn’t mind, though; he’s convinced that’s when Gabriel decided he was worth giving a chance. Every night after he’d been caught making ridiculous faces at himself were filled with the bartender teasing Sam over how adorable he is until the day Gabriel asked him out.
Gabriel chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling the way they had the night Sam first saw him, when Sam leans down to press a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss to the shorter man’s temple - he’d been aiming for the top of his head. His boyfriend plied him with drinks tonight; though, to be fair, it doesn’t take much to loosen Sam’s limbs - and inhibitions. He’s tall, but he’s still fairly lanky and his alcohol tolerance is embarrassingly small, almost to the point of nonexistence. He laughs - it’s not a giggle, Sam swears - along with the shorter man, enjoying the sight of his favorite expression on his favorite person’s face.
Eventually they make it back to their house - theirs now. Gabriel owns a house within walking distance of his bar. He says he chose it for his many drunken dates - no cars necessary - but Sam never saw the man go home with anyone from Rough House in the six months he’d worked there before Gabriel asked him out.
Something tickles his hip and Sam jerks with a shriek he will deny with all his being when the alcohol is out of his system. Gabriel outright laughs at him this time and Sam feels his lips turning up at the corners, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly when he sees his boyfriend reaching for the keys Sam keeps in the pocket of his jeans.
"Come on, Sasquatch." Gabriel wraps his arm tighter around Sam’s waist as he opens the door, leading them into the house. Stacked boxes stand in the way and the shorter man pushes Sam gently in front of him so they can squeeze, single file, through the entryway into the living room. More boxes sit next to the large sofa they bought together after Gabriel asked him to move in, with Sam’s height and his tendency to climb all over his boyfriend whenever they’re alone and on the couch together in mind. It’s all the stuff Sam brought over from his apartment. Mostly books, some textbooks he’s yet to sell from school mixed with the novels and movies he’s collected over the years.
Warm arms wrap around his waist from behind and he leans back even as Gabriel leans forward, forehead digging into the space between his shoulder blades. It’s nice, Sam decides, walking home together and knowing he doesn’t have to leave in the morning; even if it hasn’t all quite sunk in yet. A pair of dry lips brush over the back of his neck and Sam shivers. He imagines, not for the first time, how odd it must look; Gabriel leaning up, practically on his toes, to do the simplest things. Gabriel always insists that he doesn’t mind, even likes it. What’s not to like? I get my very own Redwood to climb whenever I please.
They shuffle forward together, Gabriel guiding them down the hallway to their bedroom with gentle pressure against his hips, turning him just the right way until he’s shutting the door behind them. Sam’s grinning when Gabriel turns him around and he wraps his own arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders before leaning down, pressing their lips firmly together. The hands on his hips tighten, thumbs digging into the fabric of his jeans and Gabriel flips their positions, pushing Sam back until he’s wedged between the warm line of his lover’s body and the bedroom door.
Shifting down, Sam opens his legs at the persistent nudge of Gabriel’s thigh against his own. Fire blazes up and down his spine when their hips meet and roll together, a rhythm practiced and familiar but just as good as the first time they’d done this. When Gabriel’s mouth releases his own, trailing wet, hot kisses behind his ear and down his neck, Sam realizes this is the best he’s felt all day. All week, even. His whole body shudders, goosebumps breaking out along his arms when strong hands push his shirt up and Sam lifts his arms, letting Gabriel slide it completely off of him. The air feels cold against his skin but he has barely any time to think before his boyfriend’s mouth is back on him, teeth scraping just right over his collarbone. He buries one of his hands into that soft, honey brown hair that first caught his eye the night they met, the other slipping under Gabriel’s shirt - one of Sam’s favorite, sleek, silky material that feels like Heaven against his skin where they touch. Sam moans, body twitching beneath Gabriel’s and he knows that the only thing keeping him upright is the man currently responsible for turning his legs to jell-o.
Then that weight is suddenly gone. Sam wobbles, hands gripping at the door behind him for purchase when Gabriel goes to his knees, nimble fingers undoing his pants. It feels like an eternity before Sam gets his knees to obey him, taking on the weight Gabriel previously held up for him. His body yearns for what it knows is coming next, hips bucking unconsciously when Gabriel’s thumbs hook over the waistband of his boxers.
They’re slipped down so slow it’s painful, his lover pausing the moment the head of his cock peeks out and then Sam is gone. He’s lost in the sensation of Gabriel’s tongue digging into the slit before engulfing the head with his mouth and sucking as eagerly as Sam had guzzled down his drinks earlier. It takes more effort than it should to let go of the wall, for fear that he’ll fall the moment he’s lost that bit of stability, but he needs to feel Gabriel under his hands.
Suddenly the wet heat of his boyfriend’s mouth is gone and he looks down with half squinted eyes at Gabriel pulling away, slipping his boxers the rest of the way down his thighs until they land silently around his ankles. Finally one of Sam’s hands lands heavily on his lover’s shoulder, the other sliding through Gabriel’s hair, scratching his nails lightly over the scalp until Gabriel is moaning and pushing into the touch. He cups his fingers around the back of Gabriel’s head, petting at the strands. His grip tightens when Gabriel leans forward again, taking Sam in hand, guiding the taller man’s cock into that talented mouth with the same confidence he has while he’s bartending, mixing the most complicated drinks like it’s nothing.
All the stress Sam has been carrying around since the move seeps out of him and he surrenders to the power Gabriel has always had to turn him into little more than a puddle of blissed out goo. There’s no helping the way his hips buck forward but Gabriel rolls easily with the movement before curling his free hand around Sam’s hip and holding him still, ass pressed firmly against the wall. He whimpers pathetically in protest at the loss of movement and added friction until Gabriel chuckles around his cock, eliciting a broken groan from Sam.
His lover’s head bobs slowly back and forth, warm hand jacking Sam off where Gabriel’s mouth can’t reach and Sam never wants it to end even as he feels the need to come building, pooling at the base of his spine. Mangled words fall from his mouth, begging for more, for release until Gabriel tongues at the slit again, teases the bundle of nerves just under the head. It’s all Sam can do to moan out a warning and tug the back of Gabriel’s head before he’s coming, hot and hard into his lover’s waiting mouth.
He loosens his hold on Gabriel’s head when the man pulls off, stroking him through the aftershocks while Sam struggles to remain standing. Support comes, before he can do more than sway, in the form of strong hands dragging him away from the wall, boxers left discarded on the floor, until he’s falling into the king-sized bed they’d bought and broken in before Sam had even moved one box into the house. Leaning up on his elbows, he crawls back until his head hits the mountain of pillows Gabriel insists he can’t sleep without propped against the ornate cherry wood headboard. The bed dips, jostling him gently when his lover crawls over him, graceful as a panther, and takes his mouth in a possessive kiss Sam can do nothing but give in to. Gabriel’s hands rub over his chest and down his quivering stomach, sliding around his sides.
"Still with me?" Gabriel breathes against his cheek and Sam nods even though his head is heavy and uncooperative. Wet warmth breezes over his ear when his lover chuckles, low and dirty, "Then I’ve still got some work to do." Before he can respond he’s being kissed again and Sam groans when Gabriel palms his ass, fingers kneading the flesh as he releases Sam’s mouth to suck a bruise on his throat.
Sam’s breath hitches and he pushes down into Gabriel’s hold when the tip of a finger brushes over his hole, circling it without pressing in. The light touch isn’t enough - not nearly enough - but his lover doesn’t press in any further, doesn’t do more than tease until Sam can’t focus on anything beyond his need to feel Gabriel inside of him, filling him.
"Please," he breathes, or thinks he does. The words feel garbled in his throat and he swallows thickly, rolling his hips down again. Gabriel pulls away and a frustrated whine wrenches out of Sam, instantly missing the weight on top of him. The bed dips around him again, weight shifting but he barely notices anything beyond the sudden absence of the man who’s still managing to drive him crazy even though they’re no longer touching.
He sighs in relief, though it comes out as more of a sob, when Gabriel returns, hands firm and gentle as they slide smoothly up Sam’s calves to the backs of his knees, bending them up until his feet are flat on the bed. His lover settles between his legs, smiling down at him and Sam smiles back, mussing Gabriel’s hair and rubbing down his shoulders and back and up again. His eyelids flutter as a slick finger finally presses slowly in, massaging his inner walls and setting his nerves afire, but he stubbornly keeps them open, needing to keep his lover in sight.
Sam thinks Gabriel is gorgeous when he’s like this. His honey brown hair is almost a shade darker and sticking up from where Sam couldn’t resist running his fingers through it. His amber eyes practically glow, focus narrowed on Sam and he feels like he could come from just the weight of that gaze on him alone.
Gabriel slides another finger in beside the first and Sam shudders and gasps, back arching, when his lover presses in deeper, fingertips teasing over his prostate and sending white sparks behind eyes he slams shut on a moan. A pleased chuckle breaks through the blood pounding in his ears and Sam opens his eyes to see Gabriel smirking down at him smugly. He wants to wipe the look off the man’s face but he’s too focused on the feeling of Gabriel’s fingers stretching him wide, grazing that spot inside that sends electricity through his body and turns his brain to mush.
Gripping tight at Gabriel’s hair, Sam lifts his head and pulls the man down for an uncoordinated kiss. He feels his lover’s smile against his lips and cheek and neck as gentle nips and kisses are pressed to what feels like every inch of skin the man can reach. Then Gabriel lifts up and slips his fingers out, leaving Sam feeling cold and empty for the scarce seconds before he’s being pressed back into the mattress again. His legs are manhandled up until Gabriel’s got them over his elbows, leaning forward and nearly bending Sam in half - another thing this man has taught him, that he can be incredibly flexible if sex with his boyfriend is involved. He clutches at the nape of Gabriel’s neck as the head of his lover’s lube-slicked cock brushes over his hole.
A groan stutters out of him when Gabriel pushes forward, forehead pressed against Sam’s collarbone. Breath tickles against his chest, wet and hot where Gabriel pants over him. Sam loosens his hold on his lover’s neck, running his hands down Gabriel’s shoulders and down his back where he can reach in this position, tightening over the blades of his shoulders when the man bottoms out, bringing them flush together.
They stay like that, panting together, long enough for Sam to catch his breath again before Gabriel rolls his hips experimentally. It’s not enough, barely a movement at all, but it still feels amazing, still drags a moan from the base of Sam’s throat that he doesn’t bother holding back. Gabriel’s the only one who can do this, make Sam let go and not care about anything but what’s happening in the moment. The only one who doesn’t expect anything of him except to be who he is, and Sam loves the man for it more than he can express.
What he can do is press back and up into Gabriel and bury his hands in his lover’s hair again because he can’t help himself. Needs to feel it against his skin, curl his fingers around the strands and tug with each of Gabriel’s lengthening thrusts.
"So hot like this, Sammy," Gabriel groans into his skin before changing the angle of his thrusts, throwing Sam’s legs up and over his shoulders so that he really is bent in half. It’s not the easiest position to hold - especially given the height difference between them - but it’s worth it when Gabriel’s cock drags over his prostate on the next thrust, and the next one and again until Sam is moaning Gabriel’s name with each push and digging his fingers into the man’s shoulders and neck.
The air feels thinner, harder to drag into his lungs but Sam hardly notices. He’s distracted by how close he is, how his stomach and abs tighten as heat pools and he’s aching for that last touch to push him over the edge.
"T-touch me," he gasps out, looking up into Gabriel’s lust blown eyes and dragging his hands into the man’s hair again. He pulls at the strands when the man doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything but continue pounding into him. "Damnit, Gabriel..." he whines because this isn’t enough, not even the friction from where his cock is trapped between them and he needs that extra push, needs to feel his lover’s fingers wrapping around him and working him over until he can’t breathe or see or think anything else.
Finally the man lowers one of Sam’s legs - and it changes the angle again, but Gabriel doesn’t slow down and Sam couldn’t care less because it still feels just as good and his lover knows just where to push and how to move that he’d be just as gone without the added sensation of prostate being teased - and takes him in a hot hand. Sam pants and humps into Gabriel’s fist, pushing back onto his cock as he lowers his other leg to wrap both around his lover and pull them even closer together.
When Gabriel’s lips devour his, tongue fucking into Sam’s mouth and tangling with Sam’s own, he can’t hold on. He wraps his arms around Gabriel and shouts his release into the man’s mouth, clenching around the cock still pounding away inside him. The hand not currently stroking him through the aftershocks takes his hip in a bruising grip and he’s almost giddily excited by the idea that he’ll be wearing the outline of that hand print for at least a couple of days. Almost like Gabriel’s marked him.
His over sensitized body jolts, Gabriel pulling him to meet every movement and the man’s grip never eases even as his rhythm falters and speeds up.
Nails dig into the flesh of his hip as Gabriel shoots inside him, fills him up and rides out his own aftershocks with quick, short thrusts until he’s spent and collapses on top of Sam with a wrecked chuckle. "Still with me, now?" he asks, just barely lifting his head from where he’s burrowed it in the crook of Sam’s neck.
When Sam’s first response is an incoherent, "Mmph," he decides to shake his head 'no' instead. With a triumphant smirk - and Sam is going to blame the alcohol for turning his mind to mush because his boyfriend obviously does not need that kind of ego boost - Gabriel nods his satisfaction before squirming his hips and slowly pulling out. A whimper of protest catches in Sam’s throat and he tightens his arms where they’re wrapped around Gabriel, struggling weakly with jelly-limbs when the man lifts off of him.
"Just gonna get something to clean us off, kiddo," Gabriel whispers, leaving Sam with a kiss and sauntering naked into the bathroom. Sam hears the water run for a moment, Gabriel wetting a cloth no doubt, and relaxes even further into the well-used - and totally worth the price tag - mattress and mound of pillows and sheets with their insanely high thread count that his boyfriend insists on using. The room is a little stuffy and they’ll need to open the window at some point, but when Gabriel walks back and ungracefully belly flops over top of him before tenderly wiping Sam clean and pressing lazy kisses up his neck, Sam can’t bring himself to care about that.
When his arms start feeling less like some strange combination of lead and jell-o, Sam turns on his side and wraps them around Gabriel just as the man tosses the cloth onto the floor with their scattered clothes. He hums in contentment when Gabriel cuddles in closer, shifting a little higher on the bed until Sam can comfortably lay against him and use his lover’s shoulder as a pillow. A strong arm drapes over his shoulders, pulling him closer and Sam sighs into the man’s neck. He rests a hand on Gabriel’s chest, fingers drawing random patterns over the skin there and smiles when he feels fingers combing through his hair and trailing down his neck to the middle of his back and up again.
"We gotta finish unpacking tomorrow," Gabriel says out of the blue, voice almost booming in the quiet of the room.
"Mhmmm." Sam nods a little, eyes starting to drift closed and feeling more relaxed and settled than he has all week as Gabriel wriggles them around just enough to get one of their blankets wrapped over them.
"It’s nice being home," Sam breathes, truly believing those words for the first time since they’d moved him out of his apartment and into this house. The way Gabriel holds him tighter, pressing a long kiss to the top of his head, makes Sam think his boyfriend knows just what he was thinking.
"It sure is, kiddo."
END
Author: wolfish_willow
Pairing/Genre: Sam/Gabriel, Domestic-ish AU
Rating: NC-17 (It snuck up on me, lol)
Word Count: 4,053
Warnings: None, really… AU?
Disclaimer: I don’t own SPN or these characters, I’m just having a little fun with them. ;D
Summary: Sam’s recently moved into Gabriel’s house, but it doesn’t feel quite like home yet. This is how Gabriel fixes that.
Notes: This was written for cageyklio who bid on me in helpthesouth. I really hope you like this! I ended up mixing two of the prompts together and this is what happened: Bartender!Gabriel, Bouncer!Sam, and the beginnings of domestic bliss. Hope it worked out. ;D
Notes 2: So much thanks to insertcode11 for the awesome beta and listening to me freak out over whether this was any good. *smishes you* But I had to go through a second time because I couldn’t help myself so any remaining mistakes are my own. :D
Notes 3: (Last one, I swear) Where the hell did all this smut come from? IDEK, man. It snuck into the fic and then took over and I don't know if I've ever written this much of it before, but I feel kind of accomplished. I just wanted to share that with you all. LOL
Sam leans heavily against Gabriel, having long gotten over his boyfriend’s uncanny ability to take on most of his weight even with their height difference. His body feels loose, his feet stumbling every few steps and Sam can’t stop smiling. But when he turns his head and looks down, Gabriel is wearing the same silly grin on his face so Sam doesn’t think he minds his boyfriend smiling like a goof.
They’ve been together for a year now. Sam met Gabriel when he walked into a colorful bar that stood out from many he’d been in by the music alone - classic rock instead of the more popular, and grating in Sam’s opinion, rap and dance styles. The bass was good, rhythm reverberating through Sam’s chest when he stepped inside looking for whatever job they would be willing to give him.
Sam brushes his hair off his face and sighs when it falls back into his eyes. Steppenwolf’s Born to be Wild pounds in the background as he pushes the door open and weaves through groups of people to reach the crowded bar. He almost trips, thankfully gaining control of his balance before making a fool of himself, at the sight of the bartender. The bar is dark, somehow hazy even without any evidence - smell or otherwise - that people have been smoking but Sam can still make out the man’s honey brown hair. He’s shorter than Sam from the looks of it - shorter than many of the people he’s taking drink orders from as well - but the man is standing tall, shoulders up and back straight as he pours a tall glass of beer from the tap with confident, deft movements that speak of familiarity in his task. His eyes, that Sam can’t make out the color of in the dim lighting of the bar, are bright, the corners of them crinkled as he laughs at one of the more drunken patrons swaying and gesturing wildly, talking about something Sam can’t hear over the music from where he’s standing behind the line of people along the bar. Sam envies the carefree way the bartender throws his head back in amusement before looking back at the man in front of him, smirk playing at his lips before he’s moving on to the next customer and expertly mixing the ingredients for what looks like a Long Island Iced Tea.
Gradually the crowd at the bar thins out, people migrating to their tables or to play darts or pool, or even the various arcade games lined up along the far wall. A few people still occupy their stools - a young couple leaning towards each other while they sip their drinks, a few men who look like they’re alone for the night, no one but their alcohol and frequent refills to keep them company - but it’s calmed down enough that Sam catches the bartender’s eye and attention and he straightens himself from the natural slouch he’d assumed when walking into the building full of people, most of whom were shorter than him. He doesn’t always like his height, especially how it’s nearly impossible to remain anonymous even in a crowd, but Sam came here hoping to get a job and he won’t accomplish that if he looks uncomfortable just standing in the room.
"What can I getcha?" the man asks, eyes - even brighter so close up and shining almost golden in the dim light overhead - looking Sam up and down before settling on his face. For someone so much shorter than Sam, the bartender doesn’t look nearly as uncomfortable tilting his head back to meet Sam’s eyes the way some do. Probably because he’s just short enough to have to look up at most of the bar’s patrons.
"A job, I hope," Sam says, smiling and stretching a hand out. "I’m Sam Winchester and I’m looking for work."
The man smirks, eyes trailing up his body, slower than before. He shakes Sam’s hand with a firm grip, "Well, I’m Gabriel and I think I’ve got just the thing."
According to Gabriel, the bartender had taken one look at Sam’s height and decided he’d make the perfect bouncer, something the bar had been sorely lacking in since their last one up and quit. He’d been wary, and more than a little nervous, at first. Fighting doesn’t come naturally to him beyond the rough housing tumbles he and his brother, Dean, sometimes - always - get into. It’s not that he doesn’t know how to use his own strength and defend himself or others. He just doesn’t enjoy being put in that position - unlike his brother, who became a cop because it was the only way to put his need to save people to good use short of becoming some vigilante in a cape. At least as a cop, he handles everything legally.
But in the year and a half he’s been working at Rough House, Sam hasn’t had to do more than stretch up to his full height with a dark look on his face that he secretly practiced in front of the bar’s restroom mirror - only to have Gabriel walk in and see and mock him endlessly for ever since. Sam doesn’t mind, though; he’s convinced that’s when Gabriel decided he was worth giving a chance. Every night after he’d been caught making ridiculous faces at himself were filled with the bartender teasing Sam over how adorable he is until the day Gabriel asked him out.
Gabriel chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling the way they had the night Sam first saw him, when Sam leans down to press a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss to the shorter man’s temple - he’d been aiming for the top of his head. His boyfriend plied him with drinks tonight; though, to be fair, it doesn’t take much to loosen Sam’s limbs - and inhibitions. He’s tall, but he’s still fairly lanky and his alcohol tolerance is embarrassingly small, almost to the point of nonexistence. He laughs - it’s not a giggle, Sam swears - along with the shorter man, enjoying the sight of his favorite expression on his favorite person’s face.
Eventually they make it back to their house - theirs now. Gabriel owns a house within walking distance of his bar. He says he chose it for his many drunken dates - no cars necessary - but Sam never saw the man go home with anyone from Rough House in the six months he’d worked there before Gabriel asked him out.
Something tickles his hip and Sam jerks with a shriek he will deny with all his being when the alcohol is out of his system. Gabriel outright laughs at him this time and Sam feels his lips turning up at the corners, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly when he sees his boyfriend reaching for the keys Sam keeps in the pocket of his jeans.
"Come on, Sasquatch." Gabriel wraps his arm tighter around Sam’s waist as he opens the door, leading them into the house. Stacked boxes stand in the way and the shorter man pushes Sam gently in front of him so they can squeeze, single file, through the entryway into the living room. More boxes sit next to the large sofa they bought together after Gabriel asked him to move in, with Sam’s height and his tendency to climb all over his boyfriend whenever they’re alone and on the couch together in mind. It’s all the stuff Sam brought over from his apartment. Mostly books, some textbooks he’s yet to sell from school mixed with the novels and movies he’s collected over the years.
Warm arms wrap around his waist from behind and he leans back even as Gabriel leans forward, forehead digging into the space between his shoulder blades. It’s nice, Sam decides, walking home together and knowing he doesn’t have to leave in the morning; even if it hasn’t all quite sunk in yet. A pair of dry lips brush over the back of his neck and Sam shivers. He imagines, not for the first time, how odd it must look; Gabriel leaning up, practically on his toes, to do the simplest things. Gabriel always insists that he doesn’t mind, even likes it. What’s not to like? I get my very own Redwood to climb whenever I please.
They shuffle forward together, Gabriel guiding them down the hallway to their bedroom with gentle pressure against his hips, turning him just the right way until he’s shutting the door behind them. Sam’s grinning when Gabriel turns him around and he wraps his own arms around his boyfriend’s shoulders before leaning down, pressing their lips firmly together. The hands on his hips tighten, thumbs digging into the fabric of his jeans and Gabriel flips their positions, pushing Sam back until he’s wedged between the warm line of his lover’s body and the bedroom door.
Shifting down, Sam opens his legs at the persistent nudge of Gabriel’s thigh against his own. Fire blazes up and down his spine when their hips meet and roll together, a rhythm practiced and familiar but just as good as the first time they’d done this. When Gabriel’s mouth releases his own, trailing wet, hot kisses behind his ear and down his neck, Sam realizes this is the best he’s felt all day. All week, even. His whole body shudders, goosebumps breaking out along his arms when strong hands push his shirt up and Sam lifts his arms, letting Gabriel slide it completely off of him. The air feels cold against his skin but he has barely any time to think before his boyfriend’s mouth is back on him, teeth scraping just right over his collarbone. He buries one of his hands into that soft, honey brown hair that first caught his eye the night they met, the other slipping under Gabriel’s shirt - one of Sam’s favorite, sleek, silky material that feels like Heaven against his skin where they touch. Sam moans, body twitching beneath Gabriel’s and he knows that the only thing keeping him upright is the man currently responsible for turning his legs to jell-o.
Then that weight is suddenly gone. Sam wobbles, hands gripping at the door behind him for purchase when Gabriel goes to his knees, nimble fingers undoing his pants. It feels like an eternity before Sam gets his knees to obey him, taking on the weight Gabriel previously held up for him. His body yearns for what it knows is coming next, hips bucking unconsciously when Gabriel’s thumbs hook over the waistband of his boxers.
They’re slipped down so slow it’s painful, his lover pausing the moment the head of his cock peeks out and then Sam is gone. He’s lost in the sensation of Gabriel’s tongue digging into the slit before engulfing the head with his mouth and sucking as eagerly as Sam had guzzled down his drinks earlier. It takes more effort than it should to let go of the wall, for fear that he’ll fall the moment he’s lost that bit of stability, but he needs to feel Gabriel under his hands.
Suddenly the wet heat of his boyfriend’s mouth is gone and he looks down with half squinted eyes at Gabriel pulling away, slipping his boxers the rest of the way down his thighs until they land silently around his ankles. Finally one of Sam’s hands lands heavily on his lover’s shoulder, the other sliding through Gabriel’s hair, scratching his nails lightly over the scalp until Gabriel is moaning and pushing into the touch. He cups his fingers around the back of Gabriel’s head, petting at the strands. His grip tightens when Gabriel leans forward again, taking Sam in hand, guiding the taller man’s cock into that talented mouth with the same confidence he has while he’s bartending, mixing the most complicated drinks like it’s nothing.
All the stress Sam has been carrying around since the move seeps out of him and he surrenders to the power Gabriel has always had to turn him into little more than a puddle of blissed out goo. There’s no helping the way his hips buck forward but Gabriel rolls easily with the movement before curling his free hand around Sam’s hip and holding him still, ass pressed firmly against the wall. He whimpers pathetically in protest at the loss of movement and added friction until Gabriel chuckles around his cock, eliciting a broken groan from Sam.
His lover’s head bobs slowly back and forth, warm hand jacking Sam off where Gabriel’s mouth can’t reach and Sam never wants it to end even as he feels the need to come building, pooling at the base of his spine. Mangled words fall from his mouth, begging for more, for release until Gabriel tongues at the slit again, teases the bundle of nerves just under the head. It’s all Sam can do to moan out a warning and tug the back of Gabriel’s head before he’s coming, hot and hard into his lover’s waiting mouth.
He loosens his hold on Gabriel’s head when the man pulls off, stroking him through the aftershocks while Sam struggles to remain standing. Support comes, before he can do more than sway, in the form of strong hands dragging him away from the wall, boxers left discarded on the floor, until he’s falling into the king-sized bed they’d bought and broken in before Sam had even moved one box into the house. Leaning up on his elbows, he crawls back until his head hits the mountain of pillows Gabriel insists he can’t sleep without propped against the ornate cherry wood headboard. The bed dips, jostling him gently when his lover crawls over him, graceful as a panther, and takes his mouth in a possessive kiss Sam can do nothing but give in to. Gabriel’s hands rub over his chest and down his quivering stomach, sliding around his sides.
"Still with me?" Gabriel breathes against his cheek and Sam nods even though his head is heavy and uncooperative. Wet warmth breezes over his ear when his lover chuckles, low and dirty, "Then I’ve still got some work to do." Before he can respond he’s being kissed again and Sam groans when Gabriel palms his ass, fingers kneading the flesh as he releases Sam’s mouth to suck a bruise on his throat.
Sam’s breath hitches and he pushes down into Gabriel’s hold when the tip of a finger brushes over his hole, circling it without pressing in. The light touch isn’t enough - not nearly enough - but his lover doesn’t press in any further, doesn’t do more than tease until Sam can’t focus on anything beyond his need to feel Gabriel inside of him, filling him.
"Please," he breathes, or thinks he does. The words feel garbled in his throat and he swallows thickly, rolling his hips down again. Gabriel pulls away and a frustrated whine wrenches out of Sam, instantly missing the weight on top of him. The bed dips around him again, weight shifting but he barely notices anything beyond the sudden absence of the man who’s still managing to drive him crazy even though they’re no longer touching.
He sighs in relief, though it comes out as more of a sob, when Gabriel returns, hands firm and gentle as they slide smoothly up Sam’s calves to the backs of his knees, bending them up until his feet are flat on the bed. His lover settles between his legs, smiling down at him and Sam smiles back, mussing Gabriel’s hair and rubbing down his shoulders and back and up again. His eyelids flutter as a slick finger finally presses slowly in, massaging his inner walls and setting his nerves afire, but he stubbornly keeps them open, needing to keep his lover in sight.
Sam thinks Gabriel is gorgeous when he’s like this. His honey brown hair is almost a shade darker and sticking up from where Sam couldn’t resist running his fingers through it. His amber eyes practically glow, focus narrowed on Sam and he feels like he could come from just the weight of that gaze on him alone.
Gabriel slides another finger in beside the first and Sam shudders and gasps, back arching, when his lover presses in deeper, fingertips teasing over his prostate and sending white sparks behind eyes he slams shut on a moan. A pleased chuckle breaks through the blood pounding in his ears and Sam opens his eyes to see Gabriel smirking down at him smugly. He wants to wipe the look off the man’s face but he’s too focused on the feeling of Gabriel’s fingers stretching him wide, grazing that spot inside that sends electricity through his body and turns his brain to mush.
Gripping tight at Gabriel’s hair, Sam lifts his head and pulls the man down for an uncoordinated kiss. He feels his lover’s smile against his lips and cheek and neck as gentle nips and kisses are pressed to what feels like every inch of skin the man can reach. Then Gabriel lifts up and slips his fingers out, leaving Sam feeling cold and empty for the scarce seconds before he’s being pressed back into the mattress again. His legs are manhandled up until Gabriel’s got them over his elbows, leaning forward and nearly bending Sam in half - another thing this man has taught him, that he can be incredibly flexible if sex with his boyfriend is involved. He clutches at the nape of Gabriel’s neck as the head of his lover’s lube-slicked cock brushes over his hole.
A groan stutters out of him when Gabriel pushes forward, forehead pressed against Sam’s collarbone. Breath tickles against his chest, wet and hot where Gabriel pants over him. Sam loosens his hold on his lover’s neck, running his hands down Gabriel’s shoulders and down his back where he can reach in this position, tightening over the blades of his shoulders when the man bottoms out, bringing them flush together.
They stay like that, panting together, long enough for Sam to catch his breath again before Gabriel rolls his hips experimentally. It’s not enough, barely a movement at all, but it still feels amazing, still drags a moan from the base of Sam’s throat that he doesn’t bother holding back. Gabriel’s the only one who can do this, make Sam let go and not care about anything but what’s happening in the moment. The only one who doesn’t expect anything of him except to be who he is, and Sam loves the man for it more than he can express.
What he can do is press back and up into Gabriel and bury his hands in his lover’s hair again because he can’t help himself. Needs to feel it against his skin, curl his fingers around the strands and tug with each of Gabriel’s lengthening thrusts.
"So hot like this, Sammy," Gabriel groans into his skin before changing the angle of his thrusts, throwing Sam’s legs up and over his shoulders so that he really is bent in half. It’s not the easiest position to hold - especially given the height difference between them - but it’s worth it when Gabriel’s cock drags over his prostate on the next thrust, and the next one and again until Sam is moaning Gabriel’s name with each push and digging his fingers into the man’s shoulders and neck.
The air feels thinner, harder to drag into his lungs but Sam hardly notices. He’s distracted by how close he is, how his stomach and abs tighten as heat pools and he’s aching for that last touch to push him over the edge.
"T-touch me," he gasps out, looking up into Gabriel’s lust blown eyes and dragging his hands into the man’s hair again. He pulls at the strands when the man doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything but continue pounding into him. "Damnit, Gabriel..." he whines because this isn’t enough, not even the friction from where his cock is trapped between them and he needs that extra push, needs to feel his lover’s fingers wrapping around him and working him over until he can’t breathe or see or think anything else.
Finally the man lowers one of Sam’s legs - and it changes the angle again, but Gabriel doesn’t slow down and Sam couldn’t care less because it still feels just as good and his lover knows just where to push and how to move that he’d be just as gone without the added sensation of prostate being teased - and takes him in a hot hand. Sam pants and humps into Gabriel’s fist, pushing back onto his cock as he lowers his other leg to wrap both around his lover and pull them even closer together.
When Gabriel’s lips devour his, tongue fucking into Sam’s mouth and tangling with Sam’s own, he can’t hold on. He wraps his arms around Gabriel and shouts his release into the man’s mouth, clenching around the cock still pounding away inside him. The hand not currently stroking him through the aftershocks takes his hip in a bruising grip and he’s almost giddily excited by the idea that he’ll be wearing the outline of that hand print for at least a couple of days. Almost like Gabriel’s marked him.
His over sensitized body jolts, Gabriel pulling him to meet every movement and the man’s grip never eases even as his rhythm falters and speeds up.
Nails dig into the flesh of his hip as Gabriel shoots inside him, fills him up and rides out his own aftershocks with quick, short thrusts until he’s spent and collapses on top of Sam with a wrecked chuckle. "Still with me, now?" he asks, just barely lifting his head from where he’s burrowed it in the crook of Sam’s neck.
When Sam’s first response is an incoherent, "Mmph," he decides to shake his head 'no' instead. With a triumphant smirk - and Sam is going to blame the alcohol for turning his mind to mush because his boyfriend obviously does not need that kind of ego boost - Gabriel nods his satisfaction before squirming his hips and slowly pulling out. A whimper of protest catches in Sam’s throat and he tightens his arms where they’re wrapped around Gabriel, struggling weakly with jelly-limbs when the man lifts off of him.
"Just gonna get something to clean us off, kiddo," Gabriel whispers, leaving Sam with a kiss and sauntering naked into the bathroom. Sam hears the water run for a moment, Gabriel wetting a cloth no doubt, and relaxes even further into the well-used - and totally worth the price tag - mattress and mound of pillows and sheets with their insanely high thread count that his boyfriend insists on using. The room is a little stuffy and they’ll need to open the window at some point, but when Gabriel walks back and ungracefully belly flops over top of him before tenderly wiping Sam clean and pressing lazy kisses up his neck, Sam can’t bring himself to care about that.
When his arms start feeling less like some strange combination of lead and jell-o, Sam turns on his side and wraps them around Gabriel just as the man tosses the cloth onto the floor with their scattered clothes. He hums in contentment when Gabriel cuddles in closer, shifting a little higher on the bed until Sam can comfortably lay against him and use his lover’s shoulder as a pillow. A strong arm drapes over his shoulders, pulling him closer and Sam sighs into the man’s neck. He rests a hand on Gabriel’s chest, fingers drawing random patterns over the skin there and smiles when he feels fingers combing through his hair and trailing down his neck to the middle of his back and up again.
"We gotta finish unpacking tomorrow," Gabriel says out of the blue, voice almost booming in the quiet of the room.
"Mhmmm." Sam nods a little, eyes starting to drift closed and feeling more relaxed and settled than he has all week as Gabriel wriggles them around just enough to get one of their blankets wrapped over them.
"It’s nice being home," Sam breathes, truly believing those words for the first time since they’d moved him out of his apartment and into this house. The way Gabriel holds him tighter, pressing a long kiss to the top of his head, makes Sam think his boyfriend knows just what he was thinking.
"It sure is, kiddo."
END