Supernatural Drabbles

Kitchen Make Up

"You're still here... and you're making pancakes?"

I stared dumbfounded at Gabriel, standing in the middle of my kitchen, a frying pan in hand. Hearing the sound of my voice, he turned around and beamed a smile.

"Oh, good morning sunshine." He said joyfully.

"Don't smile at me like that, Gabe. I thought I had made it clear when I told you I wanted you out of this house last night."

"And I thought I had made it clear when I told you I wouldn't leave until this entire thing would be sorted out."

"There's nothing to sort out." I told him with a sigh.

"Oh, sure there is." He replied without looking at me, too busy flipping a pancake in his pan. "You told me you wanted to risk your life going on a hunt that could kill you and the Winchesters, I tried to talk you out of it, and you kicked me out because of it."

"Because I don't want you to talk me out of it. I want you to support me in my decision, and tell me it'll go as planned and that everything will be fine. Because I love hunting, and-"

"And I love you." He cut me off with slight bitterness in his voice. "I love you, [Y/N]. That's why I don't want you to go, that's why I'm being so overprotective with you. Not because I want you to stop doing what you love doing."

I was taken aback by his words and their straightforwardness, leaving me silent. Gabriel took a few steps toward me, walking away from the stove.

"And you can't deny you love me back, you've made this fact very clear, sweetheart. And... I'm sure I'm not the only one of us not wanting such a pointless quarrel to damage our relationship."

I looked up into his eyes, so warm and tender, and read the sincerity of his words in them. I knew he was right and had a point, but I hated to admit it. I looked over his shoulder before crossing my arms on my chest.

"Well, if what you want is make up for last night, you won't buy me back with pancakes."

"Who even said they were for you?" He asked sarcastically.

I rolled my eyes as I watched him make his way back to the stove, and add one more pancake to a pile stacked on a plate, on the counter.

"Like you're gonna eat this many." I scoffed.

"You wanna bet?" He asked playfully as he raised an eyebrow.

Looking at the counter, I realized he had made quite the mess, and that my kitchen was in a pitiful state.

"Why did you go through all this trouble anyway? You could've just snapped all these pancakes into existence."

"Because I wanted to make them, not create them." Gabriel said lovingly, a hint of passion in his tone. "I wanted to bake them myself, for you. They wouldn't have been the same if I had just materialized them."

Listening to him, I felt ashamed: I had put myself before his feelings, but he was still so caring toward me.

"Gabe..."

I slowly walked up behind him and gently circled his waist as I rested my head on his back.

"... Let's talk over some pancakes, honey."