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After the surprise visit in the strip club, Sam hasn’t heard back from Gabriel in almost a month. He’s ready to dismiss it as a one of when a beautiful waitress catches his eye. He and Dean are grabbing breakfast at a small town diner on the way out of town. She leaned over a little further than strictly necessary to refill his mug with piping hot coffee.
“Dude,” Dean laughed, and Sam’s head jerked back, startled. “She’s refilled your glass like six times. Have you even had a chance to drink any?” Sam looked down at his steaming mug, flustered, and pointedly taking a big swallow. A minute or so later when the brunette returns to top off the mug again, Dean seems alarmingly interested in chatting, though her familiar eyes never leave Sam’s.
“Is there anything else I can get you boys?” She asked, voice unusually low and smooth like velvet. Sam tries not to stare at her obvious cleavage several inches from his face.
“No tha—“
“Yes, actually,” Dean interrupts, smiling up at the delicate female features. “My little brother here was wondering if he could get your number.”
Sam choked, coughing several times before croaking, “Dean!”
“My shift ends in five. If he’s available, maybe I could do him one better.” She brushes a slender hand against Sam’s shoulder as she turns to leave and both Winchesters try not to stare at the sway of her hips in the tight skirt of her uniform. With the advantage of additional knowledge, Sam fares slightly better. That is, until she glances back to catch his lingering gaze. The look she gave seemed coy enough, but the slight up tilt of the soft curve of her lips sent shivers across Sam’s spine.
“Wow, Sam,” Dean huffed, stuffing the last of his hashbrowns into his mouth.
“What?” Sam asked, a little too loud. Sam tried to cover with a casual sip of his water and wound up following his the straw for a moment after he missed his mouth. Successful, the ice water was sweet relief in his suddenly dry mouth.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you this interested in a girl since… honestly, ever.” Dean smiled at him, part brotherly goading but mostly encouragement, and Sam felt guilty for the deceit.
“Dean, I’m not…” But he couldn’t think of a single thing to say at the moment which would help his case. Dean untucked his wallet and dropped a twenty on the table to cover his bill and stood, grabbing his keys. Sam stood to follow, but Dean pinned him with a look.
“You freaking stay. We can stay in town until you and that crazy hot waitress hook up.” Sam looked up at him horrified. “You can’t even take your eyes off her, man. She gets off in five. What do you want to bet she takes you back to her place for crazy sex?” Dean moved to leave and Sam gaped at Dean’s back as he turned and left Sam alone in the diner.
Sam waited nervously, shredding his napkin as she slipped into the booth across from him.
“Sam,” she acknowledged, all pretense from earlier gone and Sam nodded in recognition.
“What I’d like to do is lay you across the table and take you in front of all these nice customers. I will, if you’ll let me.” Sam’s face was twisted with horror and Gabriel sighed.
“I get it, I really do. You’re a classy guy. You haven’t even come within fifty yards of a strip club since. So instead,” Gabriel grabbed his hand and with the snap of beautifully painted nails, dropped them into a motel room. While Sam was still adjusting to the sudden jump, smooth skin stroked his face and he froze as her lips met his. With Sam stiff against him, Gabriel pulled back to study his face.
“Gabriel…” Sam murmured, and he could barely look Gabriel in the eyes as he said it. He looked over her head at the teal wallpaper.
“Oh come on, Sam! You tease. I thought we had something special happening here.” Their bodies were close enough that Sam could feel the heat of her skin and his hands hovered over the supple curve of her hips.
“Not…” Sam breathed, head turning away so Gabriel couldn’t see his face. “Not her,” he said, so quiet Gabriel wasn’t sure at first he’d heard correctly. Gabriel’s laugh was a low grumble and he looked up at Sam warmly as his body rearranged in a slow blur.
“You’re a romantic,” Gabriel breathed in a laugh, eyes watching Sam. “You know this isn’t my body either, Sam.” Sam shrugged, trying to break from his gaze, but Gabriel’s hands gripped Sam’s hips hard. Leaning up onto his toes, he breathed into Sam’s ear. “That isn’t how you imagine me though.” And while Sam processed that, Gabriel shoved him back letting him fall and he hit the mattress with a whump. Still watching Gabriel cautiously, Sam crawled back into the bed. When he stopped, settled, a small quirk in expression was the only warning Sam had before Gabriel moved, almost instantly on top of him. Straddling Sam, Gabriel studied Sam with too sharp eyes, reading every twitch of Sam’s face as Gabriel unbuttoned the uniform blouse.
Sam’s eyes were dark, surprisingly hungry and he reached out to help Gabriel along. Gabriel, however, batted his hand away, rolling his hips against Sam’s until Sam’s head fell back. He watched Gabriel strip with half-lidded eyes, pressing up into the heat and weight of Gabriel above him. When Sam tried to grip Gabriel’s hips, small hands caught his wrists in an iron grip and forced them up toward the headboard. Sam shuddered, hands trapped in an unflinching grasp and he breathed heavily. Gabriel was watching him, dissecting him, and he pressed his forehead against Sam’s for a moment.
Satisfied, Gabriel pulled his hands away, but the shackles remained. Sam’s muscles strained, fighting against the invisible weight of it. The hot, calloused skin of Gabriel’s hand gripped his jaw firmly and Sam stared up at Gabriel. The look on Gabriel’s face was stern, but kind and when he spoke it was calm, intentionally soothing.
“You can tell me you don’t want it like this,” Gabriel promised, holding himself perfectly still as his body and his will pinned Sam. His shirt was unbuttoned and pooling around his shoulders, tauntingly close to falling off. Sam’s eyes followed the soft curve of Gabriel’s shoulders and he swallowed.
“I—“ he started, throat dry, “I want it like this.”
Gabriel’s gentle expression twisted with smugness and the weight on his wrists constricted until he could feel it against his skin. Instinctively, he jerked against it, staring up at Gabriel with flushed cheeks and parted lips.
Satisfied, Gabriel’s fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt and with no pretense of effort he tore it away.