Chapter Text
In the days leading up to their date, Sam and his brother had come by two more times. Charlie was pleased to see Dean, her new friend she could talk nerd with for hours, and Gabriel, as always, was pleased to see Sam.
So naturally, right when everything was going wonderfully, something had to go completely wrong.
Gabriel stood outside of Treatsters, his back leaned against the exposed brick as he waited. He couldn't help but perk up every time a car parked across the way, or every time one slowed down. He laughed quietly at himself- it was a little pathetic.
Gabriel Novak was not pathetic. He used to rip people apart as easily as breathing. Pining like this, waiting like some dog? No wonder Cassie thinks I'm getting soft, Jesus.
He turned his head as the door jingled. Charlie frowned as her eyes landed on him.
“He really hasn't shown?” She asked, glancing down at her phone in her hand. “It's one in the afternoon.”
Gabriel let out a heavy sigh, letting his head thunk against the wall behind him. “Yeah, that's what I get, huh?” He asked, turning and giving her a hopefully convincing half-smile.
Charlie wasn't stupid. She huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “No, it's not. Has he texted you at all?” She asked.
Gabriel shook his head. “No, and I won't bother to text him.”
“Petty. As you should,” Charlie remarked.
Gabriel huffed out a soft laugh. “Thanks, Red.”
He stood watching the street for another minute before he turned to his friend. “Alright, turns out I am working today. Superdupes,” Gabriel scoffed. He had worn his favorite leather jacket today, too; it really was a shame.
Gabriel tried to not let it get to him, as it wouldn't have been the first time he had been stood up. He just didn't expect it from Sam of all people. He made light of it, joked around as usual, and Charlie helped, too. She joined in on the joking, but she saw right through him; she always did.
“How about this, you want to go and buy individual tubs of ice cream and watch shitty reality tv shows at my place?” Charlie asked, hours later, when the rush of customers had slowed to a trickle.
Gabriel snorted. “You know? Turns out I'm free tonight,” he replied.
Charlie's smile grew, and she gently hip-checked him. “Awesome sauce, it's a date then!”
“ Please , you couldn't handle me,” Gabriel bantered, rolling his eyes.
“You’re right, thank god you don’t have boobs, or we’d have a real problem on our hands,” Charlie replied easily.
Gabriel snorted, a genuine smile forming on his face. At least he had something to look forward to tonight. Again. He ignored the dull throb in his chest.
Turned out, a whole tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream and some horrid dating show was what he needed. He and Charlie took turns judging the contestants' outfits and inputting their opinions on the dates or whatever drama had unfolded.
By the time the ice cream was gone and at least one season of the island dating show had been binged, Charlie was out. Gabriel glanced over at her as she snored softly, her head lolled to the side and her cheek scrunched against his shoulder.
He turned to look at his phone. Good thing he planned to stay the night anyway. It was long past midnight, and yet he opened Sam's contact anyway. His finger hovered over the call button, and he bit his lip as his mind went back and forth.
He wouldn't grovel, he wasn't like that. If Sam wanted nothing to do with him, then he would back off.
Gabriel sighed softly as he locked his phone, tucking it away in his sweatshirt and melting further into the soft cushions of Charlie's couch, making sure not to jostle his friend as she slept. He followed into sleep an hour later, after picking up his phone three more times before again repeating the same action of locking it.
The throb in his chest never left.
A week and a half passed before Gabriel's anger melted to worry.
He had not heard from the man at all, even after Gabriel finally mustered up the courage to send a simple text asking if he had done something wrong. Charlie was worried as well, but more for her friend than anything else.
Gabriel managed to look ashamed as she scolded him for biting his nails for the umpteenth time.
“Sorry, I know,” he breathed, leaning forward on the counter and letting his head fall down.
“If it helps, I haven't heard from Dean either,” Charlie muttered, her brows furrowed as she dried a mug and set it back on the shelf.
Gabriel let out a dry laugh. “Actually, that might have made it worse.”
“Sorry,” she murmured, her frown deepening.
Gabriel absently waved his hand at her. “It's alright, I'm just worried,” he replied. This was exactly why he didn't get close to people. Gabriel was nothing if not passionate, especially when it came to relationships.
Platonic or not, it didn't take much effort for someone to have him wrapped around their fingers. He was so close to having something normal, something he could tell himself he deserved, after everything.
Gabriel spent the rest of the day spiraling, snapping at customers, and pacing until Charlie took him in the back and scolded him once again.
“Look, you have two hours until you can go home and close up, please try not to rip someone's head off within that time period, okay?” She pleaded.
He scoffed. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”
She frowned at him, tucking her apron into her bag and hefting it over her shoulder. “Just– call me if you need to, yeah?” She said softly.
Gabriel closed his eyes, taking a breath. He felt bad. He knew he had to reset himself. Charlie was just worried about him, and he knew that. “Yeah, I will Red, thank you,” He answered, shooting her a small smile.
Charlie gave him a small wave as she left, the door clicking shut behind her.
Gabriel sighed, running his hands down his face before turning and getting back to work. He buried himself in the closing tasks, meticulously taking apart and cleaning the espresso machine, along with all of his mixers.
By the time the sun had long set and Gabriel had locked the door, closing the cafe for the night, he was a little calmer.
Gabriel whipped his head up with wide eyes as the sound of someone repeatedly slamming their hand on the door echoed into the back room. Somebody wanted inside. Bad.
Gabriel moved quickly, grabbing the small handgun he kept in the back– thank you, Castiel– and flicking the safety off with practiced ease. He moved forward, aiming directly at the front door as he snuck towards it.
The robotic feeling of his actions came easily as the door came fully into view, the person still slamming their hand on the glass desperately.
Gabriel's eyes widened, and he lowered the gun, flicking the safety back on and setting the firearm on the front counter. He rushed to the door, unlocking it quickly and grabbing the familiar Carhartt jacket, yanking the person forward.
It was Sam. Of fucking course it was Sam.
And he was bleeding.
“I'm sorry, your place was closer and I didn't know where else to go,” Sam breathed out, clutching at his side. His large hands were covered in blood; while it didn't look dire, it still needed to be taken care of.
“Hospital?” Gabriel asked.
Sam shook his head. Gabriel didn't pry, just nodded and gently pulled Sam's hands away from his side. It looked like he'd been slashed by a knife - not too deep, but enough.
“What happened?” Gabriel asked, bringing Sam's hands back over the wound and pressing down slightly, a silent order to put pressure on it.
“I got mugged,” Sam croaked out.
Gabriel didn't believe him, not for a second, but he could pester Sam about it later. He had to get him patched up first. Priorities.
Gabriel sighed softly. “We're going to have to go to my apartment, it's two blocks down. I have actual medical supplies there.”
Sam winced but nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
“Sorry, don't want you to bleed out in my nice cafe, Samshine. Not exactly great for food safety now, is it?” He chided.
Sam at least looked slightly guilty as Gabriel quickly turned and finished locking the cafe up for the second time that night. He made sure to put the handgun back as well. If Sam noticed he didn't say anything, the larger man continued to stay silent as Gabriel ushered him towards his apartment.
The bleeding had slowed slightly, but by the time they stumbled their way into Gabriel's apartment, Sam was looking slightly more pale than he had in the café.
“Sit.” Gabriel ordered, pointing at his couch before turning and swiftly walking towards the bathroom where he kept his first aid kit.
Along with the kit, he grabbed his other, more personal one, with supplies for just about any wound you can think of. It was habit, keeping one at his place, even though it had been over a year since he had to sew himself shut like he used to on the regular.
Sam was, thankfully, slouched on Gabriel's couch when he returned from the bathroom. He frowned at Sam, his eyes flitting over the man's form once more before crouching on the floor in front of where he sat.
“No, Gabriel, I can do it myself,” Sam protested, sitting up and grabbing at the supplies, which Gabriel pulled out of his reach.
“I don't think so, sit your ass back down.” Gabriel huffed, opening both of the kits and grabbing what he needed: disinfectant, gauze, a needle, and nylon thread for stitches.
Sam did what he was asked, wincing slightly when Gabriel began to gently pry his hands off the wound. He glanced up at Sam once more before taking the bottom hem of his shirt and lifting it enough so he could see the gash completely.
“Not how I imagined getting you undressed the first time,” Gabriel muttered, carefully inspecting the gash. The bleeding had stopped, a small crust beginning to form in the deepest reaches of the wound.
Sam huffed out a small breath of laughter, followed immediately by a wince. “Sorry,” he croaked out once more.
“For what? Standing me up or almost bleeding out in my cafe?” Gabriel asked sharply, turning and grabbing the disinfectant.
Sam frowned, his face painted with guilt. “I didn't mean to,” he whispered.
Fuck. That kicked puppy look of his was really fucking unfair.
Gabriel sighed. “It's fine, Sam, I'm just glad you're okay. Minus the whole,” he gestured vaguely to the wound, “stab wound.”
Sam, to his credit, didn't flinch much when Gabriel started cleaning the skin around the wound. He carefully disinfected the area before disinfecting his materials as well. He glanced up at Sam once more.
“This’ll sting, you want whiskey?” He asked the larger man.
Sam nodded, and Gabriel stood, quickly making his way over to his kitchen. Opening up his liquor cabinet, he grabbed the only bottle of whiskey he owned. Not bothering to grab a glass, he made his way back.
“Why do you know how to do this?” Sam asked as he took the bottle from Gabriel’s outstretched hand.
“Brothers got into a lot of fights when we were younger.” Gabriel answered. “Learned pretty quick how to help them.”
It wasn't technically a lie, more like a half-truth, but Sam didn't need to hear how Gabriel had to teach himself how to sew his own wounds shut. Nobody else was going to teach him, and he couldn't afford to be weak, so he learned. It was the Novak way.
The larger man hummed softly, wincing once more as Gabriel started to sew the gash shut. He tried to ignore the position he was currently in, kneeling between Sam's open legs in order to get as close as he could to the wound.
You’d think sewing a wound shut would negate those thoughts.
Gabriel worked as quickly and efficiently as he could, snipping the end of the thread and setting the supplies to the side. He reached for the antibiotic ointment, eyeing Sam once more as he applied some onto the freshly stitched wound.
It was odd, looking up at Sam from this angle, as if the man wasn't tall enough already. He was strangely beautiful like this, bathed in the soft street lights that shone through the living room windows of Gabriel's apartment.
“What?” Sam asked, his voice quiet, echoing around the silent room.
Gabriel shook his head. “Nothing, just checking to make sure you haven't passed out.”
Sam continued to stay silent as Gabriel finished. He covered the wound with a sterile bandage and checked that everything was secure before finally backing out from the space between the man's legs.
Gabriel nodded at Sam, watching as the man lifted his shirt more to inspect Gabriel's handiwork.
“Wow, thank you, Gabriel.” Sam breathed, letting the shirt fall back over his torso.
“Don't mention it,” Gabriel replied, standing up from the floor. He groaned softly as his knees popped.
He turned, walking towards his kitchen to wash the blood from his hands before opening the fridge. Sam needed something for energy, and Gabriel opted for some fruit and cheese cubes, his usual snack choice. Well, unless he wanted candy, but he had a whole bowl for that.
Gabriel set it all on a small plate before he walked back to the couch, where Sam still sat, furiously typing on his phone.
“Here, eat this,” Gabriel said, holding the plate out.
Sam took it, a small smile on his face as he plucked a blueberry off the plate. Gabriel watched him, unsure of what to do. He was still angry, despite the fact that clearly something had happened. He huffed out another breath, walking to his room and tugging his work shirt off.
It was covered in bits of blood now. He would have to try and get those stains out at a later time. He picked out a worn and well-loved old t-shirt and tugged it on along with some sweatpants before making his way back out to the living room.
“Gabriel–” Sam started.
“What?” Gabriel snapped; he was on edge now. His mind was running a lot faster than it should be, wringing his hands over and over as if they were still covered in Sam's blood.
Sam frowned as his eyes locked with Gabriel’s, emotions flashing within them. Gabriel watched as the larger man's eyes roved over his form, his eyes snagging on his arms. That gave Gabriel a pause, flicking his own eyes down to his arms as well.
Oh. He wore long-sleeved shirts at work, but now that he had changed, his tattoos were visible. Well, parts of them anyway.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to snap. It's just been a long couple of weeks,” Gabriel apologized, running his hand through his hair.
Sam shook his head. “No, I understand, I'm sure I didn't help either.”
“No, not really.”
“I'm sorry.” Sam insisted, his eyes tired and sad. “I really am, I never meant to stand you up or- or worry you,” he stammered.
Gabriel eyed him warily, crossing his arms against his chest. His nails dug into the skin of his arms. He watched as Sam stood up from the couch and walked over towards him, and his grip on his own arms tightened, nails biting at the skin.
“Let me make it up to you.” Sam breathed, now face to face with Gabriel.
Gabriel tilted his head up, looking up at Sam through his eyelashes, and raised his eyebrow. “Yeah? How.” He challenged.
Sam smiled. “You free tomorrow?”
Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “I can be,” he answered smoothly.
“I'll pick you up at four?”
“Alright, this is the only second chance you're getting,” Gabriel replied, only partially joking. He stepped up into Sam's space, releasing his arms from his chest and jabbing a finger into Sam's. “Please, don't do that to me ever again.” He warned.
Sam grabbed his wrist, taking Gabriel’s hand away from his chest, his eyes once again landing on the ink etched into Gabriels skin. “I won't,” Sam whispered.
“Good.” Gabriel breathed, his voice also turning to a whisper.
Something in the room had changed. Maybe it was how close they were, or how the man's eyes seemed to burn brands into Gabriel's skin. It felt like the wings inked into his flesh shuddered when Sam’s eyes finally slid to meet Gabriel’s again.
Sam's eyes flitted over what seemed to be every aspect of Gabriel's face before they landed on his lips. Gabriel's breath caught in his throat, and time seemed to come to a complete halt as Sam moved forward.
“Sam..” Gabriel murmured, his voice barely a whisper. His lips parted in turn as his eyes fluttered, watching the man in front of him like a moth to a flame.
Gabriel's breath was ripped from him once more as Sam pulled away, his eyes no longer hooded and dark. The larger man took a step back, seemingly shocked by his actions.
Gabriel wanted to throw up as the pit in his chest grew deeper.
“Tomorrow at four, okay?” Sam stuttered out.
Alright, they could pretend that didn't happen. Gabriel could live with that.
“Yeah, Sam, tomorrow at four,” Gabriel repeated, bringing his arms to his chest again, suddenly feeling cold.
Sam gave him a small smile as he left. Gabriel stood still as the door clicked shut, staring at the wood, silently hoping it would open again.
It didn't.
Charlie picked up on the second ring.
“Gabriel? What's up? Did something happen?” She asked, a worried edge to her voice.
“Sam's fine.” He said, finally urging himself to move. He put her on speaker and placed the phone on the coffee table next to the mess of medical supplies.
“What?” She squeaked, “You saw him?”
Gabriel chuckled softly as he began picking up the space, making sure to properly dispose of the used supplies. “Yep, I'm going to have to ask you to ignore the blood that's likely on the floor of the cafe when we open tomorrow.” He joked.
“ The what ?” She shouted. “Oh my god, how hard did you punch him?” She asked.
Gabriel snorted as he wiped the coffee table down, gingerly picking up the phone so he could wipe underneath it as well. “No, didn't punch him.”
“Then why the hell would there be blood on the cafe floor?”
Gabriel hesitated for a moment; he trusted Charlie, and she deserved to know. “He uh, he came to the cafe and started banging his fist on the door after I locked up and was doing the closing tasks.” He paused, setting the phone back onto the table and plopping onto the couch; it smelled like Sam. Gabriel closed his eyes.
“He was injured, looked like a stab wound.” He finished.
“Holy shit.”
“He said he got mugged,” Gabriel huffed.
“He's lying.” She stated.
“Yeah, obviously.” He sighed, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling. “I brought him back to my place, cleaned him up, and stitched the wound.”
“Ooo sexy–”
“Then he left.” Gabriel interrupted.
Charlie was quiet for a moment. “He what ?” She asked incredulously.
“Mhmm,” Gabriel affirmed, “And you know what's worse? He almost kissed me.”
Charlie made another noise. “Almost?!”
“Yep, he turned away last minute and then left,” Gabriel replied.
“He's about to have another stab wound,” Charlie stated.
Gabriel laughed, shaking his head. “It's okay, Red, we're going on a date tomorrow. He said he wanted to make it up to me.”
“Alright, well… the stab wound is still a possibility if it goes bad.”
Gabriel laughed again, “Noted, thanks.”
“Anytime, Gabe, anytime.” She replied, “Do you need me to come over?” She asked softly after another beat of silence.
“No, I'm okay,” Gabriel answered. “I just wanted to call and keep you updated, I guess.”
“Okay, well, I'm here still if you change your mind,” Charlie said. “Sleep well, Gabriel.”
“You too, Red.”
Gabriel listened to the dial tone as she hung up. He was exhausted, his body felt heavy, and all the fire in him earlier had fizzled out to nothing.
Maybe this was all a bad idea. Sam was clearly involved in something dangerous, and as far as Gabriel was concerned, he should stay far, far away from things like that. But he still couldn't, even after what had just happened.
Sam was nice, he was smart and funny, and clearly cared a lot. And maybe a small part of Gabriel wanted to feel normal, have a normal job, a normal relationship.
The whole thing was far from normal. Gabriel knew that, but maybe it would pay off.
Maybe.