Ever Since We Met

Five

"Hey gorgeous."

Gabriel was lounging on a bed much too large and lavish for the trashy motel room it was in.

Sam kicked the door shut behind himself, and toed off his pinching dress shoes. 

"Where's Dean?" he yawned. They had gone out on two separate cases in a town with apparently very bad luck.

Gabriel rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh come on, you wanna talk about your brother?" He made a lewd face, and stretched his body in a clear attempt at seduction.

Sam sighed, undoing his tie and throwing his FBI badge on the table. "I'm not going to fuck you if my brother's gonna walk in."

"You're no fun."

Sam stared at him.

"Fine! He's still out interviewing people on the witch lead. He's gonna be another hour and a half at least."

Sam nodded tiredly, unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"So...about that seduction then?"

Sam finished hanging up the suit and walked over to the bed. He leaned down to cup one of Gabriel's cheeks, and gave him a lingering kiss. 

"Not tonight, Gabe." He crawled into bed, sighing in relief as his aching body relaxed. He was the kind of tired that went all the way down to the bone.

"Okay," Gabriel accepted quietly, and wound himself around Sam like a squid, as he was often wont to do. He stroked a hand through Sam's long hair, lightly scratching at the scalp.

Sam pressed a grateful kiss to the top of Gabriel's head, which was already pressed against his face, and drifted off.

His thoughts went hazy and detached, and...he opened his eyes.

Sam breathed heavily and blinked at the ceiling, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.

That dream, while not technically a memory, might as well have been. It was too painfully similar to any number of actual memories, and it hurt that he could no longer have that.

Then he remembered that Gabriel was here. Gabriel was alive. Gabriel had used Sam's dreams to claw his way back. Gabriel had been in...Sam sat up straight.

"Gabriel!"

It was a shout, a prayer, an order. It didn't matter. Gabriel would hear him. Gabriel had better hear him.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Gabriel appeared in front of Sam, fluttering his hands as if he wanted to make sure Sam was okay, but unsure if he was allowed to touch.

"Was that you?" Sam demanded.

"Was...what?" Gabriel's hands stilled as he caught up with Sam's brain.

"Was. That. You. Did you make me have that dream? Was that actually you in the dream?"

Gabriel felt weak for it, but he knew his face was showing his hurt again ⁠— even as he tried to contain it.

"No."

"Why should I believe you? Tell me the truth, Gabriel!"

"It was just a dream, Sammy." Gabriel said quietly.

"Don't," Sam shouted, standing up to loom over Gabriel, "call me that!"

Gabriel let out a flat laugh. "I'm not messing with your head, okay? I would never do that to you on purpose."

"Really? Because I thought you loved fucking with people's heads. It seemed like you enjoyed it before when you fucked with my head as the trickster."