Sometimes They Run

Title: Sometimes They Run.

Part: 12/12

Fandom: Supernatural.

Pairings: Sam/Gabriel (and kinda sorta Castiel/Balthazar).

Rating: R (For language mostly. Lots of F-bombs.)

Word count: 30.234

Spoilers: None really, although it helps if you know who Gabriel and Balthazar are.

Warnings: Lots and lots of swearing. Age difference.

Feedback: Yes please.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Supernatural. (But if anyone wanted to give me Gabriel for Christmas I sure wouldn't complain.)

Beta:

mithrel was a champion for taking on this monster and teaching me a few new tricks along the way. THANK YOU!Notes: Human AU.

Summary: The story of how Sam got the sweetest job in history and how Gabriel learned how to run away. In which there are cute dogs, texting, boners and friends with benefits. There's trouble in Winchester-land, Balthazar butts in a lot, and Gabriel's brothers are dicks, except for the one you least expect.

Link to this fic on LJ, on DW and on AO3.

Sometimes They Run.

Chapter 1.

“I know, pal, I know. I'm ridiculously late, I'm sorry! I'm so fucking sorry!” Gabriel dumped his briefcase, coat and jacket on the floor right beside the door, grabbed the leash from the coat rack, and immediately ducked back out of the apartment to the delighted barking of his four-legged companion. Gabriel snapped on the leash in the elevator, and a short trip later the small dog was happily conducting what was no doubt urgent business in the flower beds outside his apartment building.

Gabriel sighed. “I am the worst dog owner in the world right now, I know,” he mumbled, half to the dog and half to himself. “Hey, how about a late trip to the park, and some chili dogs to make up for it, huh?”

The word park never failed to elicit anything but an ecstatic response, so off they went. Ten minutes later Gabriel was making pornographic sounds around a chili dog with everything on it, and feeding consolatory sausages to his neglected dog. It really was late. The hot dog stand was closing, the park was almost empty, with only a couple of entwined teens still hovering in the dusk, and Gabriel felt nearly sick with how his poor dog always got the short end of the stick when it came to his work.

Speaking of sticks...

“Yeah, sure thing, buddy,” Gabriel smirked, took the branch he was offered and threw it as far as he could, snickering at the ball of flappy ears and wagging tail his dog was immediately reduced to. But before the terrier could close his teeth around the stick, a large, long-haired dog caught it in mid-air and lumbered off with it. Gabriel jogged up to his dog, who was looking forlornly at the stick practically walking out of his life.

“Aw, man, I'm so sorry!” came a voice from off to the side. “Bones gets a little over-excited about sticks sometimes.”

Gabriel turned to deliver a heartfelt “no shit” but the words died when he saw only a broad chest where he'd expected a face. In fact, his eyes had to travel quite a distance upwards before meeting apologetic eyes.

“Does your dog like tennis balls? I got this for Bones, but he couldn't care less.” Gabriel would have replied to that too, but before he got around to it his terrier noticed the ball in the tall guy's hand, and promptly forgot any sort of dignity he might once have had. He barked, drooled, jumped, panted and generally made it very obvious that yes, he would really really like that ball, thank you very much!

“Heh, I think you got your answer,” Gabriel smiled and raised impressed eyebrows when the stranger flung the ball halfway across the park. The terrier was off like a shot, but the larger dog only cast a brief glance after it, before proudly presenting Gabriel with the stick.

“Oh, you expect me to throw it again, do you? Thief...” Gabriel wasn't even very resistant to puppy eyes from his own dog, much less this shaggy oaf, who was obviously an Olympic champion. “All right, jeez, turn off those eyes, please, I'm begging you!”

The tall stranger laughed, watching the stick fly across the grass like a boomerang. “All's well that ends well, I guess,” he offered, looking down at Gabriel in a friendly way that made it seem to Gabriel like he wasn't being looked down on at all.

“Yeah, I guess. Gabriel,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Sam.” They shook just in time for both dogs to come bouncing back for another turn, this time at least returning their prizes to their respective owners.

“So what are you doing at the park this late? Sure, nothing like a late walk to help clear the study-funk, but I thought I was the only starving student dumb enough to have a dog,” Sam said.

Gabriel cast him a glance. “Starving? Hardly. You're like a goddamn mountain,” to which Sam merely shrugged. “And it's totally cute how you think I'm young enough to still be in school, but no, not a student. I'm sucking up.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I got caught up at work. Got home almost two hours later than usual. I feel like a total shithead for it, too. A roommate or a wife I could at least have called and explained, but man's best friend? He's a freakin' champion for not pissing all over my apartment.”

Sam nodded. “What's his name?”

“Chewie.”

“Star Wars?” Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Gabriel threw the ball again before answering. “Shoes,” and then added in an undertone. “...and Star Wars,” which made Sam grin. “And what about your shag pile carpet of a dog? Did you say his name was Bones?”

“Yup.”

“So, what, he's into ribs?”

“No more than most dogs, I think. No, I'm afraid it's more me being into TV.”

Gabriel gave an exaggerated squint at the long haired, long eared dog. “Hmm. He does pull off Brennan's hairdo pretty well. You'd make a horrible Booth, though.”

Sam laughed. “And I suppose you're Han Solo, then?”

“Pfft, well of course! Just picture me with a blaster, kid! Plus, I got that roguish charm, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sam snickered.

“So... how does a self-professed starving student end up with a huge mutt, anyway?”Gabriel asked a few rounds of fetch later.

“Well, he wasn't that big when I got him. I found him tied to a dumpster behind the coffee shop I work at, all dirty and thin. When I took him to the pound, they told me they would probably have to end up putting him down because they were way over capacity. Especially since he's wasn't a pure breed of any recognizable kind, and he almost wasn't a puppy anymore... I just couldn't let them do that.”

Sam sighed. “I tried to find a home for him, but I was new in the city myself, and at the time calling my family was out. So I kept him. The pound was able to arrange for him to be neutered, but that was it. So he stayed with me. At least my roommates don't mind him.”

He cast a sidelong glance at Gabriel. “Not something a hard-working man like yourself needs to put up with.”

“Nope. But it does get lonely. Hence: man's best friend. Or more accurately, the shoe-eating monster from hell,” Gabriel smirked. “I lost so many pairs to his teething as a puppy. Thank god he grew out of it, mostly. Nowadays he only does it when he thinks I'm being a dick. I won't be at all surprised if I come home tonight to find my boots in tatters.”

“Well, one could argue that you deserve it this time.”

“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?” Gabriel protested, pointing a finger at Sam in mock-affront.

“I plan to become a lawyer, so I side with whoever hires me,” Sam said smugly.

“Typical,” Gabriel huffed and threw the stick Bones yet again provided him with. Chewie, meanwhile, had apparently decided that Sam was his new favorite human, if how he was bouncing around his legs was any indication. When Sam crouched down to rub Chewie's ears, the terrier wagged his tail so hard his entire body followed the motions. Sam smiled at the dog's antics, and Gabriel took the chance to look Sam over since he was briefly at a more manageable height.

The guy was tall, but clearly young. Early twenties maybe. His hair was as shaggy as his dog's, but shiny and wavy in a way that caught Gabriel's eye. And considering he was in school, it was simply unfair how fit he looked. All in all, Sam was gorgeous, and Gabriel had to remind himself that he was way too old to make a pass at the boy to avoid spitting out something wildly flirtatious. Clearly, he desperately needed to get laid as well as cut down on his work.

“What do you do, exactly?”

Sam's question jerked Gabriel out of his musings, and he was pathetically grateful for the game of fetch having kept him from zoning out completely. “I run a company. Well, co-run with my brothers. I could spend an hour explaining how it works, but basically we make money into more money.”

“So you're loaded?” Sam shot him a dimpled grin from under his bangs, and Gabriel had to swallow and take a breath before answering. Sam really was stupidly handsome.

“I guess. Not that I really have time to spend much.” Watching Chewie squirm happily under Sam's hands, a thought suddenly occurred to Gabriel. “What do you do, then? You said something about a coffee shop?”

“Only part time. Not really enough to pay the bills. I have a part scholarship, but it's tough keeping afloat. I sometimes help out at an auto-shop too, but only when they're busy.” Sam shrugged and smiled, as if to say that it was okay, but Gabriel knew the deal. He'd never lacked for anything himself, being a complete trust-fund baby, but he'd had friends who were a lot worse off. Sam's jeans were worn and patched, the rest of his clothes were whole but looked second-hand. And while Bones seemed healthy, it was unlikely Sam would be able to afford a vet if something should happen to him.

The solution seemed so simple all of a sudden.

“Want a job?”

Sam blinked at him. “What?”

“Look, it's obvious,” Gabriel explained. “I need more time, you need more money, so let's join forces. Let me hire you as my dog walker. Chewie already adores you, and if you live nearby, it's not like you'll have a long commute.”

“Really?” Sam stood up and Gabriel could feel his neck creak slightly from how far he had to bend back to keep eye contact.

“Sure. Whatever you're making from the other places, I'll pay double. Triple if you'll pick up my dry-cleaning and stuff sometimes.”

Sam shuffled awkwardly. “Look, I don't need your charity–”

“Charity, my ass. My dog needs attention I can't give him, and he clearly thinks you hung the moon, so take the job and make everybody happy.”

Gabriel could see Sam wavering and couldn't help but roll his eyes.

“Oh, give it a rest kiddo. I know you're not stupid, so just accept that you have a commodity I need and take the offer of a ridiculously well-paid job. Besides,” he added as an afterthought, “if I pay you enough, maybe you won't steal my stuff.”

Sam huffed out a surprised laugh. “I promise I won't steal your stuff.”

“Then that's settled,” Gabriel stated firmly. “I'll walk Chewie every morning before I go to work. You get to earn your wages by feeding him and walking him twice more every day.”

“O...kay,” Sam said, looking a little shell-shocked.

“Awesome. When can you start?”

“Uh... tomorrow?”

“Cool. If you got time now I can show you where I live and get you a key and stuff.”

“Uh, sure.”

Gabriel threw the stick one last time, and while Bones came back with it Gabriel clipped the leash back on Chewie, and started walking away. Sam was a little slow to catch up. Gabriel didn't turn around to look, but he suspected that Sam needed a breath or two to let it sink in that he'd just been head-hunted. Gabriel smirked to himself. He'd always had that effect on people, his mind and his mouth running too fast for others to keep up. But Sam was clever and seemed more than capable of fending for himself, so Gabriel decided to trust him to speak up if he had issues with Gabriel's way of solving their mutual problems.

A few seconds later he heard the crunching of the gravel path behind him as Sam's long legs caught up with him easily. Bones proudly carried the stick with him, and the trip to Gabriel's home was spent in comfortable silence. Sam looked up at the building with wide eyes. “Nice place.”

“Funny, I've gotten so used to hearing my snooty brothers rag on me for living in such a shitty neighborhood it's refreshing to hear some appreciation,” Gabriel snickered.

“Do you like it here?”

Gabriel pondered the question while they ambled inside and waited for the elevator. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I moved here straight out of college. The park is close by, all the junk-food places here know my name and... well. It's home.”

“Then screw what they think,” Sam smiled. Gabriel smiled back and told his suddenly thumping heart sternly to calm the fuck down. Just because Sam was a starry-eyed youth with simple views of right and wrong was no reason to get carried away.

When they exited the elevator and got to Gabriel's door, Sam stopped dead. “Woah!” He pointed at the name on the door. “You're one of the Miltons? The Miltons?!”

Gabriel winced. “Yeah. 'Fraid so. Don't hold it against me.”

“Oh, it's not that! It's just– Wow. I spend like 90% of my lecture time in the Milton wing. It's a little surreal.” He followed Gabriel inside, casting a last glance at the sign before closing the door behind them and taking the leash off Bones. “I'm guessing it was your dad who donated that?”

“Hah!” Gabriel huffed bitterly. “No, my dad never did much of anything. That wing was my brother Michael's idea.” He paused in the middle of the hallway, looking at his shoes, remembering. “You know... he donated that wing right after my graduation.”

“Oh. That's nice.”

“No, not really.” Gabriel swallowed hard. “He told me he'd donate that wing if I graduated in the top five percent of all my classes.”

“I'm sure he only meant to motivate you,” Sam said quietly.

Gabriel shook his head without looking away from his feet. “I could have bought that if he hadn't also told the entire school administration, my professors and anyone else who'd listen. The motivation was... more than adequate.” He had no idea why he'd suddenly told Sam this. Hell, he'd only just met the kid, and here he was letting out his sob stories. “Sorry, I didn't mean to go all emo on you,” he winced.

When he looked up, Sam's eyes were sympathetic, not pitying like he'd expected. “Don't worry about it. Though you'll have to forgive me for saying this, but Michael sure seems like a dick.”

Surprised, Gabriel laughed. “You have no idea. Between him and my other brother Luke, every day at work is pretty much Clash of the Titans. They both seem to think they're top dog so all I do is pretty much damage control. It's a nightmare.”

“Then why don't you quit?”

Gabriel stilled at the unexpected question, and for a while he just stood there, watching the dogs sniffing each other. “It's not that simple,” he said eventually. “It's family.”

“Yeah, I know all about that,” Sam said, a definite note of bitterness is his voice.

Something Sam said earlier suddenly made sense to Gabriel. “You ran away from your folks?”

Sam's eyes widened and he swallowed. Gabriel cursed himself for being so blunt, but Sam recovered quickly. “Yeah. My dad. He wasn't... abusive or anything, but he couldn't understand why anyone would want anything more out of life than a stint in the marines, an auto shop and small-town living.”

Gabriel nodded. He had suffered a similar problem himself, only in reverse, scripted as it was for him to join the family corporation regardless of his own wishes. He'd never had the balls to bail for real, though, so his admiration for Sam was only increasing. Starry-eyed or not, Sam was coping with the brutal realities of life to support his choice. And Gabriel could only applaud that.

“Well, I think that's enough sharing and caring for now, don't you think?”

Sam nodded firmly, and Gabriel congratulated himself on successfully lifting the mood.

“Moving on, then! Chewie will take his dinner anytime, he's not big on routine as long as there's a walk afterwards. Kibble is in this bucket here, one scoop a day. And before you ask, yes, I can afford better stuff, but he just won't eat it. Guess he's as big a fan of junk food as I am.”

“Well, people do say that dogs reflect their owners.”

Turning to look at the dogs, Gabriel snorted. “God, I hope not.” Chewie was busy licking his own ass, and Bones was following every tongue-swipe with his eyes as if it was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. Sam laughed, and Gabriel cursed himself yet again, because those things in his stomach felt distressingly like butterflies. Sam had a really nice laugh, but dammit, Gabriel was too old for this. He should definitely go find someone his own age to play with. He decided then and there to accept the next invitation to one of Michael's uppity cocktail parties. And by god, he would mingle.

“I still think you're paying me way too much for this,” Sam muttered, cutting into Gabriel's introspection.

“If it bothers you that much, I'll write up a contract that says I own your ass, how's that?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Maybe not go that far. But having my employment on paper would still be nice.”

“Consider it done. I'll throw in some vague allusions to additional work duties for the sake of your sanity, okay?”

Sam looked so pathetically relieved that Gabriel nearly reconsidered paying him so much. But he could so very easily afford it, and dammit he couldn't help but care. Sam was just so nice, and he really needed new jeans, and maybe if he could afford some decent ones they would sit more snugly on his hips and-

Yeah. Gabriel really needed to get laid. Pronto.

Chapter 2.

True to his word, Gabriel wrote up a contract that night and left it on his counter for Sam to sign when he came in. He trusted Sam well enough, but he still took Chewie for an extra long walk in the morning before leaving. He was still feeling like an ass for being late the day before, and despite his new employee, he was also feeling guilty over planning to stay just as late this evening. But Chewie just licked Gabriel's face and happily snuggled into his doggy bed when Gabriel locked the door behind him with a heavy heart.

Work was draining as always, and demanded his complete attention, so in the end he was too busy to spend much time worrying. When he dragged himself home that night, fearing the worst for no definable reason, he opened the door to find Chewie passed out on the couch, and a note from Sam saying they had been to the park and played fetch until he'd had to carry the terrier home. The contract was signed and Sam had taken his own copy home with him.

Everything was quiet, comfortable and taken care of... and Gabriel hated it.

But, as he had reminded himself pretty much every day since graduating college, that was life as a Milton. You joined the family business, got richer than you already were, paid poor people to do the everyday jobs, and spent your limited free time courting people as rich as yourself. He'd never felt at home in that life, but he'd never been brave enough to leave. Because Michael and Luke might be on opposites sides every day of their lives, but the one time Gabriel had brought up the idea of doing something other than the family business, they had presented a frighteningly united front and frankly scared the crap out of him. So that was a no-go.

With a heavy sigh Gabriel texted Michael, asking him when his next get-together was, so he at least could work on getting laid. The happy reply should have pleased Gabriel, but it only served to make him even more down-hearted. He went to bed feeling old and pathetic, and dreamed of tall, floppy-haired boys with open smiles and big hands.

* * *

“So,” Kali purred the following Saturday, “I hear you finally hired yourself an assistant!”

“Dog walker, actually,” Gabriel corrected mildly. Kali was one of the few people Gabriel liked talking to at these damn fancy parties, so he just smiled and sipped his drink. They'd had a fling a few years back, and they were still friends of a sort. But Kali owned the high society life in a way Gabriel never could, and he tended to stick to her at times like these. Which was totally counter-productive, since he was mainly here to try and get lucky.

“Pfft, titles are moot. But seriously, if you're hiring people, Hell must be freezing over.”

“Hey, I have a cleaning lady!”

“Only because Luke fired her and you're a softie.”

Gabriel couldn't really argue with that, so he settled for shrugging vaguely.

“Wow,” Kali went on, “For you to actually hire someone on your own steam he must be extraordinary. Is he hot?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” He thought he'd been smooth about it, but dammit, Kali knew him to well.

“He is!” she said gleefully.

“He's also still in school, way too young, so don't you start,” Gabriel grumbled.

“Aw, don't you know that true love has no age?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Even if it wouldn't be totally unethical to sleep with my employee, he would still be too young. And if I was planning on getting it on with my dog walker, why the hell would I be here?”

Kali shrugged. “Just saying. It certainly never hurts to look,” she added, letting her eyes slide over one of the waiters breezing by.

“True enough.” But everywhere Gabriel looked, all he could see were people wearing too much makeup, too expensive clothes, and too fake smiles. And to top it off, they were all deemed too short, too blonde or too not-Sam in general. Gabriel was so screwed. To Michael's immense disapproval, Gabriel went home early, and then spent the night with his Casa Erotica collection pretty much out of pure spite towards his treacherous heart.

* * *

It was late afternoon on the first Monday after hiring Sam when Gabriel got a text from him.

[Your cleaning lady is scary.]

Gabriel was confused for all of two seconds before he groaned to himself in his empty office.

[Shit. Forgot to tell Lana about you, didn't I?] he texted back.

If a text alert could sound peevish, Gabriel could have sworn his did when the reply came.

[Yes you did. Thank god I still had the contract in my coat, or she woulda called the cops on me.]

[Yeikes. Sorry. :S I gotta buy her some flowers or something.]

[Oh, btw she told me to tell you, and I quote: if he wants to make it up to me, forget flowers, gimme a bigger Christmas bonus.]

[Right, gotcha. Gotta love a woman who knows what she wants.]

[Clearly what she does NOT want is me and my boots in your home on Monday afternoons. I can walk Chewie in the early evening on Mondays instead if that's okay with you?]

[Sure, whatever you can work out.]

Gabriel realized he was cradling the phone with a goofy smile on his face and forced himself to put it down and go back to work. But it was barely another two minutes before there was another text.

[What about me though, don't I get anything? I was the one who almost got beat up with a mop!]

[Well that depends. Do you want flowers or a bonus?] Gabriel pressed send before he could regret it, and spent the next minute or so telling himself he was being an idiot. He lunged at the phone when it beeped again.

[Would it be too cheeky if i said both? :p]

Gabriel could literally feel his entire face being pulled crooked from the enormous grin caused by Sam's innocent, yet definitely flirtatious message. He had to put down the phone and bang his head onto his desk a couple of times before he felt he was able to type out something vaguely coherent.

[Yes. But I like cheeky. ;) ]

Sadly, it seemed that coherent didn't necessarily equal tasteful, and Gabriel banged his head on his desk a few more times, desperately telling himself he did not just flirt heavily with his much too young employee. Except for the fact that he totally did.

[Awesome. FYI: I like tulips.]

Gabriel didn't get a lot of work done that day. He did, however, spend an awful lot more time banging his head on his desk. Enough so that his secretary even came in at one point to ask if he was okay. Even as he sent her a flat smile and assured her that 'yes he was fine' he had never been more aware of how not fine he was just then. As much as those persistent butterflies in his stomach tried to convince him otherwise.

* * *

Months went by with Gabriel's hours only getting longer and Chewie getting fitter. Sam was really taking his job seriously, not only giving Chewie the opportunity to mark territory but also making the extra effort of giving the small dog some actual exercise, something Gabriel hadn't found time to do in far too long. When Sam made an offhand comment that he wished Gabriel could see Chewie going at it on the small agility course he'd gone to a couple of times at a local dog kennel, Gabriel decided to ignore Sam's vehement protests and bought him a new phone.

Sam's cell was ancient and could probably serve as a doorstop better than it could as an actual phone, yet Sam insisted it worked fine. But Sam's thoughtless remark gave Gabriel the argument he needed to get Sam to accept the gift. All Gabriel had to do was to pull out a good old guilt trip about not getting to see his sweet little doggy ever, and before he knew it he was being bombarded with texts, all full of high resolution pictures of his ecstatic terrier and occasionally, when it was clearly his lucky day, a smiling Sam next to both dogs.

Gabriel could hardly remember a time when he'd smiled this much. It should really have made all sorts of warning bells go off in his head. But instead he let the warm and fuzzy feelings thoroughly take over his mind, sitting in his office every day looking through pictures of tail-wagging dogs and a dimpled face going steadily more brown from all the outdoor activity as summer slid into autumn. And if he happened to go home just a little earlier on Mondays just in case he might bump into Sam, then nobody was asking, and Gabriel wasn't telling.

He kept his promise to Sam and tried to come up with additional duties for him to do, but apart from a couple of dry-cleaning runs, he simply couldn't think of anything. So Sam apparently decided to take matters into his own hands. Gabriel came home one night to a note on his fridge.

[Made dinner. Heat up in microwave. Hope you're not allergic to something. Either way, it can only be better than junk food and candy bars. YOU NEED VEGGIES! Enjoy!

- Sam.]

Gabriel read and re-read the note at least five times before he shook himself out of his stunned surprise and opened the fridge where a casserole was waiting to be heated. For a long, quiet moment he just stood there, staring at the simple offering and feeling, absurdly, close to tears. Chewie finally came trotting over to see what was so interesting in the fridge, and bumped Gabriel's leg with his nose when he didn't move. Gabriel finally snapped out of it and bent down to rub Chewie's ears before taking out the casserole and heating it. It was chunky, a little too salty and clearly made from mostly preserved ingredients, just like most student meals would be.

It was the best meal Gabriel had had in years.

Chapter 3:

A couple of weeks later an early autumn storm swept through the city, causing a decorative structure on top of the Milton offices to collapse. It destroyed enough of the roof that the building had to be evacuated until it could be determined whether it was safe to be in the top offices or not. So for the first time in a couple of years at least, Gabriel headed home in the early afternoon, rather than around dinner time. Sam had already walked Chewie once that day, as he had proved to Gabriel with a couple of wind-swept pictures of Bones looking like he was being blasted with an industrial strength hair dryer, and Chewie on Sam's arm, miserable and damp from the drizzling rain

So Gabriel was surprised when he was greeted by not one but two dogs as he came through the door, and from the living room he heard a muttered curse, followed by the sound of frenzied activity. Curious, he followed the sounds, not stopping to take off his coat or shoes, Chewie and Bones bouncing around his legs.

By the couch, Sam was hastily shoving papers and books into his backpack, swearing steadily under his breath. “Shit, shit, shit, shit...”

Gabriel couldn't help but grin and leaned against the doorjamb, the very picture of nonchalance. “Going somewhere?”

Sam froze and slowly turned to face Gabriel, a look of utter mortification on his face. “Gabriel. Hi. Uhm. I can explain.”

“I'm sure you can. Do you mind if I take my coat off first?”

Sam immediately started packing things again. “Yeah, I mean, no, of course not, I'll just– ”

“Sam,” Gabriel cut him off. “Sit down. You're making me edgy. So park it. Breathe. I'll be back in a sec.”

Sam flopped back onto the couch, clutching his half-zipped backpack and his laptop charger, and looked for all the world like an abandoned puppy. Gabriel tried to be cool and collected about it, but it seemed that every time he was in the same room with Sam, his entire body decided it was suddenly a teenager again, all jittery hormones and pulp romance. So it was barely thirty seconds before he was back in the living room, forcing himself to put on a casual air, since Sam looked thoroughly spooked.

“So...” he said airily, dropping down into his armchair. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?” He meant it to sound vaguely menacing, but in reality it probably sounded pretty much like the truth it was. It really was a pleasure to come home to someone, even someone unexpected. Especially when that someone was Sam.

“I, uhm...” Sam started, eyes firmly fixed on the floor as he explained. “I have a paper due on Monday. And one of my roommates – Andy – he's got some friends over from some foreign country... Poland or something, I dunno. But they're really loud so I just couldn't concentrate there. I didn't wanna leave Bones there either, because Andy got every single one of his hookahs out and I didn't wanna expose Bones to that. The study hall doesn't allow dogs, and I needed to come here anyway, so I thought...” he swallowed hard and tried to meet Gabriel's eyes, only to give up and look down again.

“I was just gonna stay a couple of hours and get started on my paper before heading out. I guess I lost track of time or something,” he muttered.

“Nah, you didn't. The storm broke something above my office. Had to evacuate the entire floor. It's not even three PM.”

“Oh. Well... uhm. Anyway, I'm really, really sorry, and I'm a total shithead for abusing your trust, I know, and I'll get out of here right now–”

“Sit!”

Sam had been halfway to his feet again, but dropped back down at the command. Gabriel had to fight really hard not to laugh when Bones planted his butt on the carpet simultaneously.

“Look, I get why you think you're in trouble, but I swear you're not. Hell if I knew you needed a place to study, I would have offered. I'm all for the education of young minds, you see.” He winked at Sam and was relieved to see him roll his eyes slightly.

“Yeah well, I'm sure you're not really in favor of said young minds squatting on your couch.”

“Well... I don't mind much when the young mind in question is a friend.”

Sam gave him an odd look. “Really?”

“Really really. Anytime you need somewhere to study or just a quiet place to sit for a while, you're welcome here. You have a key. Just let yourself in, whenever.”

Still clutching his things to his chest awkwardly, Sam didn't speak. For a long moment he just looked at Gabriel, and the air got suddenly heavy in the room. Gabriel jumped up to break the tension.

“Anyway, you go ahead and set up camp again. I got some work to do since my office is taped off, so I won't be good company for a few hours. But if you're still around when I'm done, you're welcome to... you know, hang out. We could watch a movie, have some junk food delivered, whatever you feel like.”

Gabriel cursed himself when he realized that he had been standing awkwardly by his TV the entire time, fiddling with one of his silly perpetual motion machines, as if asking Sam to stick around was in the same league as asking out his prom date.

In fact, asking out his prom date had been easier. But then again, he thought belatedly, back then all he'd risked was a brief moment of disappointment. Here he could at worst be facing a sexual harassment law suit. But from Sam's reaction you'd have thought he really was being asked to the prom. His smile could have lit up a small county.

“Seriously? Yeah, I'd love that!”

There was another long moment of eye contact, this time accompanied by smiles which Gabriel was pretty sure could be labeled as dopey, at least on his side. God, he was so very screwed.

“I'll just...” he eventually said, reluctantly moving to his work space, which was pretty much a small office set up in the corner of his spacious living room.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, and started unpacking his things again, setting up his battered laptop on the coffee table and smoothing out his rumpled papers. Bones jumped up on the couch, making Sam grimace and send Gabriel a nervous look. Gabriel just rolled his eyes and settled in for work. And if he sat down slightly at an angle to his desk so he could watch Sam out of the corner of his eye, then nobody commented on it. Chewie spent a moment looking from Sam to Gabriel and back again, until Gabriel sighed.

“Well, go on then.”

Chewie took a gleeful trip around Gabriel's chair before zooming back to the couch and snuggling up between Sam's side and Bones' butt. Sam smiled and patted the small terrier gently with his large hand before going back to his paper. Gabriel followed his example and booted up his own considerably more expensive laptop, but if how his eyes were glued to Sam was any indication, working wasn't in his horoscope today.

* * *

As expected, a couple of hours later Gabriel had gotten ridiculously little done, and he could not bring himself to care. Not when Sam was sitting right there on Gabriel's couch, tiny frown on his face from concentrating, sleeping dogs plastered against him. When he would get stuck on his paper, his hand would always reach out and find a furry body to stroke, and Gabriel followed the gentle motions with his eyes, absurdly wishing he was a dog for several insane moments.

Finally he decided that work was utterly unimportant when he could be basking in Sam's intoxicating presence, so he made a good show of stretching and at least giving the appearance of having done actual work.

“Well Sammy-boy, I don't know about you, but I'm starving. How do you feel about Indian food?”

Sam looked up from the screen and sent Gabriel another butterfly-inducing smile. “If it's food, odds are I like it.” Then he also stretched, and Gabriel had to turn away really fast when Sam's shirt rode up and revealed just a sliver of his belly, enough to give Gabriel an all too clear view of the narrow trail of hair below Sam's navel. Sweet mercy. Gabriel was a breath away from having a very sudden and awkward erection, so he hurriedly busied himself with finding his phone and calling one of his regular take-out places.

“Val! Just the man I was hoping to talk to,” Gabriel greeted when the phone was picked up by the owner. Val wasn't actually Indian by any stretch of the imagination, but he did make killer curries.

“Mr. Milton! It's been almost a week. You cheating on me with that new sushi place?”

“I would never!” Gabriel cried dramatically, making Val chuckle.

“All right then. So, since you wanted to talk to me, something special you want?”

Gabriel cast a glance at Sam who was following the exchange with a smirk. “Yeah, I was thinking my movie night special, two servings. Only make one of them a double. And maybe throw in one of your creative desserts too.”

“Ahh, one of those nights, eh?” Val leered.

Cursing himself for having ordered one too many date night menus from Val, Gabriel rolled his eyes. “No! Well... not... it's...”

Val was apparently much more observant than Gabriel gave him credit for. Either that, or Gabriel's junk-food consumption had finally reached a level that was beyond fixing. “I see. You want to impress, but you're cautious. I get it.”

“Am I being psychoanalyzed by my junk food provider?”

“Yes. It's an exclusive service we only offer to those select few who have us on speed dial.”

“Touché.”

Gabriel sighed and looked over at Sam again. Since he was briefly busy packing his backpack –a little more sedately this time– Gabriel took the opportunity to murmur into the phone: “Just... something nice, okay?”

“Don't you worry Mr. Milton, I'll make sure it's special without being obvious.”

“You're a saint, Val. Don't let anyone tell you different.”

Val huffed into the phone and hung up on him, evidently already elbows deep in whatever delicious thing he was putting together. That man was a cooking god who should have his own five star restaurant, rather than a crammed junk-food place. But he liked things the way they were, apparently, which was more than Gabriel could say for himself. He spun with a flourish, hitching on a broad grin.

“Dinner will arrive shortly. Why don't you pick a movie, and I'll find us something to drink.”

“Sure.”

Gabriel dug out two semi-expensive beers from his fridge, which might as well be re-labeled his drinks-cooler, because it had probably been years since there had been actual food in it, except for the recently consumed casserole. He felt an acute, but not entirely surprising, pang of regret that his life wasn't one where he could fill up his ridiculously high-tech appliance with all the best produce, and actually have time to make something with it. But he managed to shake off the thought and headed back to the living room. He found Sam already holding a DVD, and damn, if the smile he was sporting just then could be turned in Gabriel's direction, then Gabriel would gladly sit through the most horrible movie ever made. Not that such a thing would ever exist in his movie collection. Because he had taste.

“Return of the Jedi? Why start in the middle?”

“Because...” Sam hesitated, and to the distress of Gabriel's pulse, even bit his lip innocently. “Well, when I was kid, we spent a couple of years living on the road, going from motel to motel, never settling down. I was about five years old, maybe. Anyway, it was my brother's birthday, and I heard him saying that he liked the Star Wars movies, so I found Return of the Jedi on betamax totally randomly in a thrift store and bought it for him.”

Gabriel could totally envision tiny, well-meaning Sammy wanting to get something awesome for his brother's birthday, and smiled. He almost managed to forget that it wasn't nearly long enough ago that Sam was five. But Sam's general level of adorable was already hard for Gabriel to resist, so the added mental image of said adorableness at kid's level was heart-clenching. He quickly offered Sam one of the beers to cover up how he was getting emotional over a cute little story. Sam accepted the beer, but still held on to the DVD.

“But there was a problem,” he continued. “Since I was only five, I never considered that to watch it, you'd need a betamax player, which we did not have, since we were practically living in the car.” Sam grimaced briefly, but then his soft smile was right back. “Dean– that's my brother's name... you should have seen his performance when I gave it to him, wrapped up in the comics page of a newspaper. You'd think I'd given him the friggin' Hope Diamond or something, he was so ecstatic.”

“Aw, that's nice,” Gabriel said honestly.

“Oh, but it gets better. He kept it in his backpack for ages, and one day he happened find a betamax machine in a dumpster. Somehow he got that old piece of crap working, hooked it up to the motel TV and then we sat down and watched it over and over again that whole night while our dad was out working. I think over time it became something like a challenge to him to track down betamax players he could either borrow or fix up, so we could watch that glitchy second-hand video tape as many times as possible. Just to make me happy.”

Gabriel decided it was no wonder Sam had turned out so decent with such a devoted role model to look up to.

“Dean sounds like a really awesome brother.”

“He is. The best.”

Sam was still holding the DVD close to his chest, almost hugging it, as he read the back info. Granted, there might be a few million more features on there than there had ever been on the tape, but Gabriel was pretty sure that what Sam was seeing had nothing to do with the movie.

“You miss him.” It wasn't a question.

Nodding shortly, Sam avoided his eyes and started putting the DVD back on the shelf. “Sorry. I didn't mean to unload on you like that. I just got sentimental I guess.”

“Hey, no, don't do that!” Gabriel protested. “I'd love to watch it! Skywalker is a total pussy in the first one anyhow.”

“No he's not, he's just... young.”

Gabriel nudged Sam's side and spoke out of the corner of his mouth in an exaggerated whisper. “Hey lawyer-boy, here's a hint! Don't argue when I'm trying to make your case for you!”

Sam snickered and held up his hands in surrender, letting Gabriel pluck the movie off the shelf again and put it on. As they settled down on the couch, the dogs snoozing between them, Gabriel decided that while Sam's beautiful smile hadn't been for him, he would still happily sit through crap movies for just being allowed to sit and watch it break out on Sam's face at random times during the night.

Not that Gabriel thought the movie was crap at all, as became embarrassingly evident when Sam somehow weasled out of him that he owned quite a few pieces of merchandise. But, as it turned out, he had no reason to feel awkward compared to how wildly Sam started geeking out over the lightsaber replica. They were in the middle of an enthusiastic, yet gentle, mock duel with Sam wielding the lightsaber in elegant arcs, and Gabriel doing his best Han Solo impression, complete with gun belt and blaster pistol, when the food arrived. Sam seemed a little flushed from being caught in the middle of goofing around, but the pimply kid handling the delivery was utterly unimpressed.

“Val said to put the dessert in the fridge until you eat it and that you owe him baseball tickets,” he said flatly.

“Cheeky bastard,” Gabriel grinned, even as he forked over a generous tip. “This dessert of his better be awesome, then.” He glanced at Sam, still absorbed in the detail of the lightsaber, apparently not listening in.

“It always is,” the kid said in parting, making it sound like acknowledged truth, rather than a promise. Like he was saying water was wet or that the Earth was round.

Gabriel shook his head as he closed the door behind the kid, and dutifully put the dessert in the fridge.

The food was great, the movie was given as much attention as one can when knowing it by heart, and over the next few hours, Gabriel laughed more than he had in months. Possibly years. And when the time came for dessert, Gabriel decided then and there that nothing short of a season pass would do for Val. Because he'd somehow made it look like a simple, unassuming fruit concoction, but the sounds Sam made while eating it... Gabriel was pretty sure it was some form of torture. But that didn't stop him from firmly filing them away in his spank bank. If that made him a pervert, then so be it.

They finished the movie and then spent a few more hours happily going through the special features and sharing their mutual loathing of the prequels. When Sam announced with a sad face that he really had to go, Gabriel offered to walk him home, under the pretext of needing to walk Chewie anyway. If it hadn't already felt distressingly like a date, this would have done the trick, even if there was no goodnight kiss outside the truly crappy apartment building where Sam lived. But even so, Gabriel practically floated home, elated and regretful in equal measure. If only Sam hadn't been so goddamn young, Gabriel would totally have made a move that night. He wasn't even sure if Sam was into guys at all, but Gabriel would gladly have given him the benefit of the doubt and just jumped him anyway.

Sam had certainly given enough encouragement, which in this case ended up feeling more like torment. He'd been laughing, smiling and casually touching Gabriel for no apparent reason the whole night. Just a hand on his shoulder or a nudge of his elbow. It felt intimate and wonderful, and had things been different... but they weren't.

By the time he got home he was significantly more subdued, but he still smiled when he entered his living room to find the mess they'd left behind. The beer bottles and food containers, the pile of Star Wars stuff he'd hauled out from his closet and all the other small things that just said: “someone had fun here.” He told himself firmly that the reason he didn't clean up before bed was because he was lazy, not because he liked to look around and see the evidence of Sam everywhere.

Even Chewie didn't buy a lie that obvious.

* * *

The chirp of his phone yanked Gabriel out of his work funk. Michael and Luke were being especially dickish to each other that day, and Gabriel had been running himself ragged all morning doing damage control from their conflicting orders to the lower ranks.

[You said whenever I needed peace to study, right?]

Sam's name on the screen had never seemed more welcome, and Gabriel cradled the phone close, as if it were his most precious possession.

[Yup. Absolutely anytime.]

[Thanks. There's a party at my place. Nobody asked me first.]

Gabriel smirked, even as he felt for Sam. [Welcome to communal living.]

[If I kill them all, will you help me hide the bodies?]

[That's what friends are for. ;) ]

[You're the best. :) ]

And just like that, Gabriel's entire day was made.

“What are you grinning about?” his secretary asked, wide-eyed, when he bounced past her moments later, cheerfully off to prevent yet another management-induced disaster.

“Isn't it just a fantastic day, sweet Ava?”

Ava glanced out of the window at the pouring rain. “Can't say I agree. Are you okay?”

This made Gabriel pause. “Uhm... yeah. Any reason I shouldn't be?”

Looking sheepish, Ava avoided his eyes. “No, of course not, it's just... I don't think I've ever seen you happy like this since I started working here. Not once.”

“Well, it's a stressful job,” Gabriel bristled.

“That's my point,” Ava said sincerely. “You're one of the bigwigs here, you could set your own hours if you wanted. There's no reason for you to be stressed out and unhappy.”

Gabriel opened his mouth to argue, but froze stupidly when he realized he didn't have a counter-argument. Instead he collapsed back against the wall next to Ava's desk. “Ugh, seriously, is everyone psychoanalyzing me these days?”

“I suppose we have to, since you don't seem to notice your own misery.” In the next breath Ava realized what she'd said, and added: “please don't fire me.”

And suddenly, Gabriel couldn't help laughing. A full, loud belly-laugh, which made his cheeks hurt. “Oh god, how is this my life?!” he howled, wiping tears off his face.

“Are you asking me, yourself, or just the universe in general?”

Gabriel's laughter trailed off with a few final snickers. “Oh... heh. Fuck, I dunno.”

Ava sent him a crooked smile. “If you wanna add psychotherapist to my job description, then I'm gonna need a raise.”

“Don't you get cute with me, missy,” Gabriel admonished, wagging a stern finger in her face.

“Just sayin',” she shrugged before answering the phone. Gabriel mock-glared at her before he left with a smile, because no matter how many inconvenient truths he was being kicked in the nuts with, the fact of the matter still stood.

You're the best.

Chapter 4:

It slowly became a regular thing for Gabriel to come home to an apartment that felt lived-in. Not that Sam ever made a mess, but there was a change in the air, perhaps the faint whiff of a different person's smell that lingered. Not to mention the addition of long, brownish blonde dog hairs accumulating on his couch to the despair of his cleaning lady. But Gabriel felt like rolling around on said couch just knowing that Sam and the dogs had spent a few quiet hours there, and only the realization that it would be utterly pathetic stopped him from actually doing it. Chewie had developed a habit of snorting at him, which Gabriel couldn't help but think sounded an awful lot like snickering. So either his dog thought he was pathetic, or he was going a little bit crazy. Either way, things were really going downhill.

Not that there was any way to convince Gabriel's stupid heart of that fact. It bounced and thumped and did all sorts of wild maneuvers in his chest whenever Sam was around, or even just came randomly to mind. Which he did all the time. Gabriel kept telling himself that there was no harm in having a little crush, as long as he didn't plan on acting on it. And he didn't. No matter how much as everything in him gravitated towards Sam and his dimples and his hair and his eyes and his... everything.

But then all of Gabriel's good intentions were put to the test quite thoroughly.

Sam was invited to a party by some fellow students, and while he normally declined, on the pretext of studying, this time he had finally given in to the group pressure from no less than five girls ganging up on him. Gabriel laughed his head off when Sam told him about it in a horrified voice, which made the jealous twang from his heart easier to ignore. Sam then went on to gingerly ask Gabriel if he would perhaps dog-sit Bones for the night. Gabriel spent a few happy moments keeping Sam on the edge, making a big show of considering the matter before telling Sam that he was a moron, and that of course he would dog-sit. Sam's gratitude made Gabriel's heart do weird things again, so he ended up claiming that he had work to do and hung up.

A cold Friday rolled around, and Gabriel went home early to Ava's delight. Sam dropped off Bones in the early evening, and Gabriel had to practically push him out the door when he started talking about walking both dogs before leaving.

“It's a party, Sam. I'm the sitter, I'll walk the dogs. You go have fun. That's what you do in college!”

“No, in college you study!” Sam argued, looking very apprehensive about the whole thing.

“Sammy, you gotta loosen up. Christmas break is only like a month away, there are no major tests coming up, and yes, college is for study, but if you don't take some time off every now and then, you're gonna give yourself an ulcer,” Gabriel said.

“But I'm only on part scholarship, I should be working in my free time!” Sam whined, sounding more and more panicked.

Gabriel took hold of Sam's upper arms and stopped his fidgeting. “Listen to me, Sam. You have a job. I pay you good money so you can afford a little down time and not keel over from exhaustion when you do study. Go to this party, get drunk, have fun. Pick up your dog in the morning, and then you can enjoy the challenge of studying with a hangover. It's all part of the college experience.”

Sam slumped under Gabriel's hands, and he only just barely stopped his thumbs from rubbing the warm muscle. “I don't wanna get drunk.” Sam mumbled.

“Then don't,” Gabriel shrugged. “Nobody's forcing you. Just go and unwind. Promise me that, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Sam caught Gabriel's eye, and for a long moment there was some serious gazing going on. Gabriel finally shook himself out of it and then proceeded to actually shove Sam out the door. “Go. Be merry. I don't want to see your face again until tomorrow, you got it?”

“Yes, sir!” Sam grinned and petted Bones briefly before finally leaving. Gabriel closed the door behind him, only to be met with two pairs of pitying eyes and almost identical snorts.

“Great. Even canines are analyzing me now. Just great.” They both kept staring and snorting at him until he herded them onto the couch and settled down to watch Return of the Jedi yet again. He told himself sternly he didn't wish Sam was there with him. As it turned out, Bones didn't buy his self-delusion any easier than Chewie, if their continued co-snorting was anything to go by.

“Keep that up guys, and I'm taking you to the vet for a check-up.”

Peace at last.

He realized he'd fallen asleep, half-covered in warm dogs, when his door buzzer went off. His bleary eyes informed him that it was two AM. “Yeah?” he grumbled into the speaker.

“Hi! Uhm... yeah, it's uhm... well, me... I'm... it's... cold out here.”

“Sam?” Gabriel was instantly awake. “Come on in before you freeze to death, you doofus!” He buzzed the door open and waited until the shuffling and cursing sounds finally gave way to the sound of the front door being pushed open. It seemed like an awfully long time before there was a knock on the apartment door. In reality it wasn't as much a knock as it was the sound of something sliding weakly against the door jamb, but Gabriel yanked open the door anyway and found Sam outside, looking decidedly worse for wear.

“Hi!” he said again. Loudly. “I'm... I have a bone... I'm here to... Bones. Pick a Bones... no... that's not right...”

Gabriel felt his eyes boggle. “Jesus Christ, I thought you said you didn't wanna get drunk!”

“I didn't!” Sam yelled, and Gabriel quickly pulled him inside the apartment.

“How much did you have to drink? And why didn't you just use your key to get in?” Gabriel asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice. Sam was disheveled, his clothes were dirty and rumpled and he looked pale, despite the rosy cheeks from the cold. He merely shrugged in reply to Gabriel's interrogation. And when he led Sam into the well-lit kitchen, it became distressingly obvious that his pupils were dilated. “Are you high?!”

“No!” Sam wobbled and Gabriel pushed him onto a chair. “Oof! I mean... I didn't... I only had the... the... punch. Something red. Two cups of red stuff. And one beer. And then... then.... wheeeeeeee,” he concluded weakly.

“Jesus, I think someone slipped you a mickey.”

“Hey Mickey you're so fine... you blow my mind...hey MICKEY!” Sam blared.

“Okay, new house rule. No singing while you're baked. I think my ears are bleeding,” Gabriel grimaced.

Sam's face fell instantly. “Oh. Sorry. I'm just gonna... Bones... and then home to Andy and his hookahs.”

“Oh ho ho, no! You are not going anywhere. You're high as a fucking kite, and I'm not letting you out just so you can get yourself killed in traffic or something. It's a miracle you made it here in one piece!”

Looking down at himself, Sam grinned. “Yup. Got aaaaall my pieces. But... I think I killed a flowerbed.”

Gabriel let out a relieved breath. So at least it seemed like Sam hadn't been mugged or something even less savory.

“Was looking for my key... y'know, for your door. But then there was... these flowers. And I dunno, they... jumped at me or something. Had to show 'em who's boss so I could escape,” Sam mumbled. “I think I'll have to pay for the damages...”

Gabriel looked heavenward. “Yeah, well, we'll deal with that in the morning. Until then, you are sleeping it off, buddy. I know you said you didn't drink much, but considering how high you're flying, who the fuck knows. So you just sit tight, and I'll get you some water. We can at least get you hydrated.”

Sam nodded and picked some leaves off his jeans while Gabriel went to get water. He didn't exactly drink a lot of plain water, but he usually kept a couple of bottles somewhere in the back of the fridge. When he finally dug one out, Sam was staring at him with his head tilted, his eyes hovering somewhere below Gabriel's waist.

“What?”

“You have a nice ass,” Sam stated.

Gabriel snorted. “Okay, now I know you're drunk.”

“No, I mean it. It's like... you know how some people work out and get these...” he snickered briefly, “buns of steel? You don't do that, and that's... that's nice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I have a flabby butt, call the press, whatever, drink up.”

Sam accepted the bottle of water, but instead of drinking from it, he just waved it around vaguely, still staring at Gabriel, only now more around the area of his hip. “It's really nice. Really... nice. Kinda... squishy. Sexy.”

Gabriel suddenly had to swallow what felt like a cotton ball the size of his fist. “Uh... okay?”

“Yeah. Sometimes I just wanna... grab it.” Sam made an illustrative motion with his hand, which made Gabriel's cock twitch painfully with sudden arousal. “Or... y'know... bite it.”

“I'm–” Gabriel squeaked, “I'm gonna go see if I can find something for you to sleep in, okay?”

“Okay,” Sam said placidly, and finally started drinking the water, while Gabriel walked stiffly out of the room, hopelessly turned on and in desperate need of a very very cold shower.

What he ended up doing instead was digging out an old t-shirt of Michael's and dragging both dogs out into the freezing night air for the walk he never got around to before falling asleep on the couch. He left Sam with the shirt and instructions to drink the water and get in bed before he came back, and prayed to whoever might listen that Sam could manage undressing on his own. When Gabriel finally went back home, his balls had crawled so far into his body from the cold he was starting to wonder if they would ever venture back out again, and the dogs were pulling his arm off to get back inside the apartment.

Sam had managed to get his clothes off and the t-shirt on, apparently deciding not to argue for once in his life, and had collapsed on Gabriel's king sized bed diagonally on top of the covers. The couch was way too short for Sam, but perfectly fine for Gabriel and two dogs, if it came to that. He didn't bother trying to get the covers out from under Sam's limp form. Instead, Gabriel threw a blanket over him, and thanked some higher power that he was still chilled enough to not get excited over Sam's amazingly long bare legs, or the slip of skin revealed where the t-shirt rode up over the edge of the boxer briefs Gabriel was pointedly not looking at.

Just in case, he also placed a bucket next to the bed before going to the couch and snuggling up with the dogs to get warm. After Sam's little stoned revelation, Gabriel felt like he would never be able to sleep again. When Sam had made the grabbing motion, Gabriel had almost felt it on his ass. Good god. He'd thought it before, but it had never been more true.

He was so utterly, undeniably, irrevocably screwed.

Chapter 5:

“Oh my God. Am I dead?”

“Nope,” Gabriel announced cheerfully as he came into the bedroom the following morning. “Just hung over.”

There was a pained groan from under the covers before a frankly impressive mop of bed-head emerged. “Uh. Gabriel? Where... uhm...?”

“Right, here's the deal. You're in my apartment, in my bed. I put you there after you showed up on my doorstep pretty out of it late last night. Long story. Anyway, I'm about to walk the dogs. Painkillers and water on the bedside table, bucket on the floor. Stay in bed.” Gabriel knelt down next to the bed and caught Sam's bleary eye, just as he was opening his mouth to argue.

“Zip it. Take the pills. Drink the water. Barf if you need to, and then sleep. If I find you out of this bed when I get back, I will kick your ass back in, got it?”

Sam hesitated for a long moment, giving Gabriel ample time to get gooey over how adorable Sam looked with his hair rumpled. Even his blood-shot squinting had a strange charm to it.

“M'kay,” he rasped finally and let his head slam back into the pillow, which prompted an immediate whimper.

“Painkillers, Sammy-boy,” Gabriel snickered before rising and leaving the room. Sam whined something at him, which could have been 'thank you' or maybe 'fuck you'. Either way, Gabriel smiled broadly as he got the dogs out the door. Sam was in Gabriel's bed. Gabriel honestly couldn't think of a single scenario where that would be a bad thing. As long as you ignored the whole cradle robbing deal...

When he got back with the dogs he found Sam in the kitchen, making coffee. He had to take a long moment to breathe before he felt bolstered enough to be in the same room with a Sam who was still wearing only his boxer briefs and Michael's old and almost too-short t-shirt.

“What did I tell you about staying in bed?”

“I know,” Sam answered sheepishly, “but there was a call on your land line and I'm really sorry, but I sort of accidentally answered it.”

Gabriel blinked. “Accidentally?”

“Uh... yeah. I think I was actually asleep when I heard it and then I just reacted. It has the same ringing sound as my dad's business phone, so I guess I just... got confused. I got up and picked up the phone. I'm sorry.”

“Don't worry about it,” Gabriel grinned. “The only people who ever use that line are telemarketers. I don't even know why I still have it.”

Pouring them both a mug of steaming coffee, Sam shook his head very carefully, making it clear he was still headachy.

“It wasn't a telemarketer who called. He said his name was... Castiel? Is that right?”

Gabriel accepted his mug and poured in a small mountain of sugar, while Sam sipped his black. “Oh, right, there's also him. I think he's secretly a time traveler from the fifties. What did he want?”

Sam was making a face of bliss from his first sip of coffee, and Gabriel had to turn his back to avoid gaping like a goldfish. There was simply too much gorgeous skin on display for him to be able to deal with that sort of face on top of it.

“He was understandably a little confused when I picked up, but then again, so was I. I think I finally did wake up when I picked up the phone and was about to say: 'Winchester Auto, how can I help you?'.” Sam grimaced. “But he was nice about it and just told me to tell you he called.”

“Yeah, Cas is nice about most things. He's like the Hulk, all subdued gentleman, but you don't wanna see him angry,” Gabriel mumbled, finally deciding that his coffee was sweet enough. It wasn't bad either. But then he remembered that Sam had been working in a coffee shop when they met. Maybe he still was, even though Gabriel paid him enough that he really didn't have to. It would be just like Sam to keep his other jobs out of obligation or something. Then he suddenly realized that... Castiel called.

“Shit, I'd better call him back. He never uses the phone unless he has to. Could be something serious.”

“I hope everything's all right.”

“I'm sure it's fine. Drink your coffee. And please tell your dog you're not dying. He was really worried about you this morning. Kept whining at the bedroom door.”

Bones had planted himself at Sam's feet, just staring at him, waiting for some attention. He wagged his tail furiously when Sam finally managed to crack his eyes open properly and say hi with a decent ear rubbing. “Sorry, dude. I'm just hung over. It's okay,” he murmured, while Gabriel found Castiel's number in his phone.

It only took one ring before Castiel picked up. “Hello Gabriel.”

“Hey Cas. Everything okay?”

“Yes. Everything's fine. I merely called about Christmas.”

Gabriel slumped with relief. “Christmas? Seriously?! You call at eight am on a Saturday morning, and it's about Christmas?!”

“Yes. I'm afraid Balthazar thought it couldn't wait.”

Balthazar. Of course.

“Put him on, Cas. I know he's there.”

“All right. It was nice talking to you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You too, Cas, for all the thirty seconds of top notch conversation.”

“You're welcome,” Castiel said sincerely before there was the rustling of the phone being handed over.

“Darling!”

“Don't you darling me, B. What was that all about?” Gabriel grumbled.

“You know, one of these days I'm going to get insulted at your extreme lack of enthusiasm when I call.”

“Maybe one of these days you'll learn how to call at a civilized hour like normal people!”

“But why should I, when calling in the morning gets me a treat like your little boy toy picking up the phone? I wish it hadn't been Cassie who talked to him.”

“Yeah, about that, why did Cas call me?” Gabriel asked, deliberately trying to steer the conversation away from Sam.

Balthazar sighed dramatically. “Alas, 'tis a terrible story. I broke my hand.”

“Again? What happened this time?” Gabriel would probably have been more sympathetic if Balthazar hadn't sounded so gleeful about the whole thing.

“Same thing as last time,” he explained, the smirk clear in his voice.

Gabriel rubbed his eyes wearily. “Okay, I've changed my mind. Maybe instead of teaching you basic phone manners we need to teach you how to... oh, I dunno, maybe not flirt with everything that moves and get your hand broken!”

“My, my, aren't we cranky for someone who got lucky last night!” There was a brief, but heavy pause. “Unless you didn't. Why Gabey, did you have some sweet young thing sleep over without ravishing him? I'm disappointed!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. Look, just get to the point. What's up about Christmas?”

“Ah, yes well, due to the hand situation, our regular plans might have to be reconsidered.”

“You mean since you have less chance of getting laid with a cast on, you suddenly don't wanna go paint the town,” Gabriel snickered.

“Yes, well, you know me, I'm a hands on sort of fellow and this puts a somewhat serious peg in my wheel, so to speak.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. So what did you have in mind instead?”

“Skip the Christmas bar hopping, and instead do New Year's Eve bar hopping!”

Gabriel looked heavenward. “Lemme guess. The cast comes off after Christmas?”

“Exactly!”

“Will you ever grow up, B?”

“Good god, I hope not,” Balthazar chuckled. “But anyway, back to the important issue here. Why didn't you ravish the boy toy?”

“None of your business. And he's not my–” Gabriel cut himself off when he realized that Sam could probably hear him in the kitchen. “Look, it's not like that. He's my dog walker.”

“I don't know about you, but I usually don't let my employees sleep over.” There was a pause where Gabriel could practically hear the leer on Balthazar's face. “Unless of course I'm sleeping with them.”

“Well, that's different,” Gabriel groused. “You have no morals.”

“I have plenty of morals, thank you. I never lead anyone on, for one thing.” Again there was a pause, but this time it seemed heavier. “What happened to you, Gabriel? You used to be fun.”

“Life happened, B.”

“You mean Michael and Luke happened.”

Gabriel sighed. Great. More psycho-analyzing. And suddenly he was in no mood to joke.

“Yeah. Along with dad and Raphael and this whole craptastic adventure I call my life.”

“Then shake things up!” Balthazar cried. “Make some noise! Break free! Just like you always wanted back in school!”

“Things were different then.”

“Yes. For one thing, you still had a spine.”

Suddenly Gabriel was angry. “You know what B, you can kiss my ass, I'm not in the mood for this. Call me after Christmas and we'll arrange something for New Year's, okay?”

For a moment Balthazar hesitated, clearly debating whether he wanted to keep arguing or not. “All right, fine. Happy Christmas and... what have you.”

“You too. Bye.”

“Toodles!”

Gabriel stomped back to the kitchen, well aware that he looked thunderous.

“Should I... pretend I didn't hear any of that?” Sam asked carefully.

Sam's tone of voice made Gabriel deflate in spite of himself. He rubbed his face wearily. “Yes. No. I dunno.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” He looked up at Sam, still clutching his mug of coffee and looking much more alert than anyone hung over had any right to. “Thank you for the offer, really,” Gabriel said warmly, “but this is old stuff, no point in digging it back up. Besides, I thought you were hung over?”

“Coffee's helping loads,” Sam mumbled, before shifting subtly where he was leaning against the counter. “Not that I'm shy or anything, but... where are my clothes?”

Gabriel was suddenly reminded quite forcefully that Sam was standing in his kitchen wearing nothing but black cotton boxer briefs and Michael's ratty old t-shirt. It might in the past have had his college logo on the front, but it had been washed so many times that it was worn smooth, as well as thin. Gabriel had to swallow really hard before words would come out of his mouth, through what turned out to be a disturbing amount of saliva.

“Ah, right, well, your little tete-á-tete with a flowerbed left your clothes kinda worse for wear, so I threw them in the washing machine this morning.”

Sam gave him a weird look, and Gabriel shrugged. “What? Not all my clothes are dry-clean only, you know.”

There was a brief snicker before Sam frowned. “Wait, what flowerbed?”

“You... don't remember?”

“Uh... not really. Come to think of it, a lot of things are a bit fuzzy about last night.”

Gabriel couldn't decide if he was more relieved or disappointed that Sam probably didn't remember the little revelation about Gabriel's rear, but he wasn't really surprised.

“Right. Lemme just go and see if your clothes are ready for the dryer, and then I'll get you up to speed.”

Shutting the door behind him in the small coat room which housed his washer and dryer, Gabriel took a moment to compose himself. He made a substantial effort to remind himself that he was forty-one, and really should be beyond popping boners over boys half his age, even if one such boy was in fact in his kitchen looking good enough to eat. And the knowledge that Sam had last night pretty much outed himself as not entirely straight, not to mention revealing a certain fondness for ass, really didn't help matters any.

Tossing the clothes into the dryer, dawdling over it as long as he felt he could reasonably explain away, Gabriel took a few more deep breaths before rejoining Sam in the kitchen, where he had migrated to a chair at the kitchen table.

“Breakfast?” Gabriel asked.

“Ugh, no thanks,” Sam grimaced. “My head's not too bad, but it feels like something died in my mouth. I might need to disinfect my tongue before eating anything ever again.”

“Fair enough. I'm not really a breakfast kinda guy either,” Gabriel admitted, sitting himself down. “You should have clean and dry clothes in about twenty minutes.”

Sam set down his mug carefully and met Gabriel's eyes sincerely across the table. “Thanks. Seriously. When I asked you to dog-sit, I didn't intend for you to have to babysit my drunken ass too.”

“Hey, don't apologize. I'm pretty sure it wasn't your fault.”

“Not my fault? Jeez, what actually happened last night?”

Gabriel gave Sam a quick and slightly censored run-down of last night's events, which left Sam looking shell shocked and a lot more green around the gills. “You think I was roofied?”

Trying not to freak Sam out any more than he had to, Gabriel shrugged. “Could just be someone's idea of a joke. A very bad joke. Wouldn't be the first time some frat boy thought he was being funny.”

Sam swallowed convulsively. “I dunno. There were a couple of girls there last night who did seem a little... handsy.” He shuddered. “I suppose I should count myself lucky that nothing apparently happened. Apart from the, uh... flowerbed incident.”

Eager to lighten the mood, Gabriel leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Ah yes, it shall be known as The Great Flowerbed Disaster in the chronicles of your wild college years.”

Gabriel was ridiculously relieved when Sam grinned back. “It's right up there with Getting Caught Squatting On My Boss' Couch.”

“Nah, you got that one wrong. That was merely the warm-up for The Totally Awesome Movie Night!”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He caught Gabriel's eye across the table. “We should do that again sometime.”

Gabriel really wanted to offer some joking reply to that, but in the end, all he could say was: “Yeah,” and after that they descended into a comfortable silence, dogs under the table and the sun slowly appearing over the building next to Gabriel's.

When Sam's clothes were done he borrowed a spare toothbrush, disappeared into Gabriel's bathroom and came out looking vastly refreshed. He then prepared to leave, but when Gabriel showed him to the door, Sam hesitated and then stooped down and gave him a quick hug.

“Thanks again,” he murmured into Gabriel's shoulder.

“Anytime, kiddo,” Gabriel breathed, making Sam's hair flutter before they parted and Sam was gone.

When Gabriel went to bed that night, his pillow smelled like Sam.

Chapter 6:

Christmas came and went as it always did with awkward gift exchanges with Michael and Luke, and the delightful surprise of a gift from Sam as well. It was a framed picture of Chewie posing like a true camera hog at the agility course, and it was immediately put on display in Gabriel's office. Gabriel hadn't wanted to assume anything, so he'd merely given Sam an outrageously large Christmas bonus, but after the picture frame, he decided all bets were off and gave Sam his light saber replica. Sam's overwhelmed geeking out made the entire season suddenly brighter in Gabriel's eyes, and Sam was more than happy to oblige when Gabriel asked him to dog sit on New Year's Eve.

So a few hours before the turning of the year, Gabriel left Sam behind with their dogs and went out to get spectacularly drunk with Balthazar and the ever unflappable Castiel. Unlike previous years, though, Balthazar decided not to go home with one or more random people, leaving Gabriel with Castiel at whatever bar they ended up in. This year he opted instead for waiting until Gabriel was sloshed and then started nagging him about his social life.

“All I'm saying is that you need to put yourself out there, Gabe! You know, get around, get laid, get crazy!”

“I don't wanna get crazy,” Gabriel slurred, leaning up against Castiel, whose monstrous tolerance for alcohol made him a steady support point for most of the evening.

“But you do wanna get laid, am I right?” Balthazar leered, nudging Gabriel's ribs with a pointy elbow.

“Ow. Yeah. I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Leave him alone, Balthazar. We can't all be as lighthearted as you all the time.”

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “I'm not asking him to dance naked on the tables, Cassie! I'm just wondering what happened to turn our Gabriel into this sad creature you see before you now!”

“Oh, bite me, B,” Gabriel snarled, downing his drink.

“Just saying– ” Balthazar started, but snapped his mouth shut when Castiel glared at him.

“Maybe you're simply not in the mood this year?” Castiel suggested cautiously.

“Yeah, maybe,” Gabriel sighed when there was a buzz from his pocket. It was a text with a picture of Sam and the dogs all squashed into the frame, Bones wearing a party hat and Chewie licking Sam's face.

Gabriel realized far too late that he was sporting a lovestruck grin when Balthazar snatched the phone out of his hands. “Ohhhh, I see how it is now!”

Castiel was yet again the pillar of common sense and forced Balthazar to give back the phone before he could cause any damage, but there was no stopping the shock wave of his glee. “Aw, Cassie, come on now! I was just about to let the little boy toy know that Gabey looooooves him!”

“Be that as it may, I feel something like that should be for Gabriel to reveal, in his own time,” Castiel rumbled, making Gabriel stare at him.

“There's nothing to reveal!”

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Balthazar leered. “You were practically swooning over your phone!”

“I was not!”

“To be honest, you do seem fairly taken with this young man,” Castiel piped up.

“What, you too, Cas?!”

“I was merely making an observation.”

“A wrong one!” Gabriel yelled, almost toppling off his bar stool in agitation.

Balthazar steadied him with a heavy hand on his shoulder. “All right, Gabriel, that's enough. Why are you being so bloody touchy about this? I can't blame you for going off on me. That's how you and I communicate after all, but there's no reason for you to be mean to Cas. What is going on?”

Gabriel swayed forwards and landed on the bar, only just managing to catch his head on his arms. “Ugh. Fuck my life,” he groaned.

“Come now, Gabe, it can't be that bad?”

“It is.”

“What's wrong?” Castiel asked gently and Gabriel was mortified to realize that his bottom lip was quivering, so he kept his face hidden in his arms.

“Tease me about this and die, understand me, B? I'm serious, if you joke about this, they will never find your body.”

There was stunned silence from Balthazar before he slowly said: “Well... when you put it like that...”

“I'm so screwed,” Gabriel moaned.

“God give me strength,” Balthazar mumbled, followed by the thud of Castiel socking him in the shoulder.

“Please go on, Gabriel.”

Gabriel took several deep breaths before forcing out: “I have the hots for my dog walker.”

There was silence for so long he was tempted to raise his head just to check that his companions hadn't left the bar without him.

“I... fail to see how that's a problem,” Balthazar finally said.

Gabriel shot up, wobbling on his chair. “Are you actually kidding about this?! I thought I warned you–”

“Woah, easy now! I wasn't pulling your leg, honestly! Now would you please calm down and explain to me what the problem is?”

“The problem?! You saw the picture!”

“Yes, he's frightfully handsome in an adorable sort of way. I still don't see the problem.”

“You don't see–” Gabriel felt his jaw drop and instead turned to Castiel. “Help me out here. Tell Balthazar what the problem is!”

To his horror, Castiel looked completely blank, even as he tried to do as Gabriel asked. “While I'm not at all sure it's as much of a problem as you're making it out to be, I suppose there is a slight moral issue of sleeping with one's employees...”

“That's not the point, Cas! Well, that's a problem too, but not the main one!”

“Then what is?” Balthazar asked, exasperated.

“He's only twenty-two!” Gabriel cried.

“So?” Balthazar shrugged.

“So?! So, it only makes me a humongous pervert!”

“No, it probably means that at worst you're having an early midlife crisis. Big deal. Just fuck him and get it out of your system!”

“Jesus Christ, B, nothing in life is that simple!”

“Of course it is! You're both consenting adults, you're not breaking any laws, and should things get horribly awkward afterwards just write him a glowing reference, hand him a huge check and hire another dog walker! It's not like you have to marry the man!”

Gabriel glared at Balthazar. “Oh sure, because having a hard-on makes it perfectly okay for me to act like a complete dick! And even if I did feel tempted to stoop to your level and just use him like he was some sort of chew toy, I wouldn't, because he's my friend, okay? He deserves better from me.”

Castiel cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, they do say that love has no-”

“Shut it, or I will end you,” Gabriel growled, making Castiel hold up his hands in surrender.

“Is that what's troubling you? Are you concerned it might be more than just a silly crush?” Balthazar narrowed his eyes at Gabriel.

Abruptly, Gabriel felt like his stomach had dropped to the floor, and if he hadn't already been sitting he would have fallen over. “Don't... that's... you...” he gibbered, never managing to finish a sentence from the sheer terror he suddenly felt.

“That's it, isn't it?” Balthazar continued, weirdly gentle. “You have deeper feelings for this boy and you're afraid.”

Gabriel had the disturbing impression that his all his internal organs were doing impossible acrobatics at Balthazar's words. He'd been well aware that he was more than just a little attracted to Sam, but to have it put so bluntly by Balthazar of all people... Balthazar was a weirdly pragmatic hedonist. He viewed sex, drinking and entertainment as being as equally vital to survival as food and sleep, but never really saw any point in forming lasting commitments to any one partner. Consequently, he only rarely had the presence of mind to realize if someone was involved, hence the constant sustaining of injury from hitting on people who were very much spoken for. For him to actually notice Gabriel's predicament from a couple of phone calls and a few hours of drinking, without ever even having met Sam, or seen Gabriel with him, was downright distressing. Gabriel would have expected uncomfortable-yet-poignant statements like that from Castiel. But Balthazar...

That meant it was a whole lot worse than Gabriel ever imagined. He felt cold sweat on his face and down his back, and he couldn't decide what he wanted to do more. Laugh hysterically or vomit. Either way, apparently he'd forgotten all about needing oxygen, because Castiel suddenly shook his shoulder.

“Breathe.”

The quiet command released the hold on Gabriel's lungs and he heaved in a desperate breath, and promptly started hyperventilating.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, this is bad, this is so very bad,” he babbled.

“For heaven's sake, Gabe, calm down. You're overreacting!” Balthazar said harshly, although he did put a calming hand on the back of Gabriel's neck, and helpfully bent him forwards until his breathing slowed.

“Honestly, you're acting like it's a terminal illness to be in love.”

“Maybe it is,” Gabriel groaned. “Sure feels like it.”

“You... don't wish to be in love?” Castiel asked.

This finally made Gabriel raise his head so he could glare miserably at Castiel.

“You know what? I would love to fall head over heels for some wonderful person, get married and live happily ever after. I would be thrilled. But it can't be Sam. It just can't.”

“Why not? He certainly seems to be at least fond of you.”

“For Christ's sake, Cas, Sam's feelings have nothing to do with this!”

“Then I'm afraid I'm at a complete loss. Why is this all so bad?”

Gabriel clenched his teeth, hard. He didn't want to get into this. At all. Ever. But since neither Castiel nor Balthazar seemed to have any clue, then he obviously had no choice. “Because of Anna,” he gritted out, this time definitely feeling the urge to vomit.

Balthazar and Castiel exchanged baffled looks. “That was tragic, Gabe, but it has nothing to do with Sam. Unless...” Balthazar suddenly looked murderous. “Michael. This is Michael's doing, isn't it?”

“I don't wanna talk about this any more,” Gabriel hissed, and turned to the bar to order something really strong, because clearly the only way this night was ending on a happy note was with Gabriel unconscious.

“Gabriel,” Castiel started, gently grasping his shoulder.

“I said I don't wanna talk about it.”

“Gabe–”

“B, I'm serious. Either shut up or I'm punching you in the face. Your choice.”

Something in his tone must have told Balthazar all he needed to know, because he miraculously backed off, only exchanging one more shocked look with Castiel before ordering them all doubles of whatever shots were fastest to pour.

Gabriel didn't remember getting home, but he woke up in his own bed to a conveniently placed bucket and a note from Balthazar.

[You need some serious therapy. Again. Told your boy toy to walk the dogs this morning, because I expect you'll be too busy puking to get anything useful done. Cassie wants to “talk”. I'll leave it up to you whether to accept his offer or not. One word of advice: deal with this. I don't care how, but don't let this fester even more. B.]

He groaned and crumpled the note. He had intended to throw it across the room in righteous indignation, but mid-swing he had to give up and make Balthazar's predictions come true. After expelling what felt like everything he drank last night, he grudgingly admitted that he was at least thankful to Balthazar for the bucket.

Chapter 7.

Gabriel spent the next couple of weeks actively ignoring the events of New Year's Eve. He'd been sickly worried for a while that Balthazar might have decided to take matters into his own hands and tell Sam everything. Gabriel wouldn't put it past him. But when the first work day of the new year arrived, Sam texted happily as usual about how the cleaning lady still hated him, and sent yet another picture of Chewie getting filthy on the muddy agility course. So Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief and set about forgetting it ever happened.

Which wasn't easy when the object of his woes texted him every day, and spent at least a couple of afternoons every week working on creating an ass-shaped indent in the middle cushion of his couch. But Gabriel was a grown man, dammit. He wasn't going to let what was clearly just a massive case of teen-worthy hormone surges steer his life in a direction which would be nothing short of a disaster. He even went to the doctor for a check-up, and was dismayed by the news that nothing was wrong which could possibly explain excessive mooning and ill-timed boners. Instead he was told that he clearly suffered from stress, and a pretty severe case at that. “Tell me something I don't know,” Gabriel had snarled and left the place.

Because it was stressful. Every time Gabriel came face to face with Sam, his heart started again with its stupid conga rhythms, his face would go all hot and his palms would sweat. Which was all totally inconvenient. So he tried to cut down on seeing Sam, making as much as possible of their interaction happen by phone. But of course, nobody sent Sam the memo that face-to-face meetings were bad, and it seemed as if he was going out of his way to time it so that if he was dropping off dry-cleaning or on one hilarious occasion giving Chewie a bath, it would happen just as Gabriel was coming home, which in turn almost always ended up with an invitation to stay for another movie night.

So Gabriel smiled, laughed and drank in all that was Sam, and then proceeded to curse himself and his weak spine as soon as Sam was out the door.

Just as he thought he was getting used to keeping a lid on things, though, it was yet again made clear how far up shit creek he really was.

He came home one Monday night to find Sam asleep on his couch, Bones on the floor next to it, and Chewie snuggled up behind Sam's bent knees. The dogs looked up when Gabriel came in, but Sam didn't stir and Gabriel struggled weakly with his conscience for about five seconds before he folded, and sat down quietly in his armchair, telling himself firmly that he totally wasn't being creepy. For a long time he sat just watching Sam. His hair had grown longer since they'd met the year before, and a few wavy locks had fallen across his face in sleep. He looked even younger with his eyes closed and his face relaxed, and that would probably have bothered Gabriel if it hadn't been sort of pointless. Sam was already too young for Gabriel anyway, in all ways that mattered.

But as he watched, Gabriel also suddenly noticed that Sam had some definite stubble going on, and while it at first only made Gabriel ache with the urge to rub up against it until his skin burned, it also made him worry. In all the time he'd known Sam, the guy had never been anything but clean shaven. A closer look revealed subtle bags under his eyes and a small furrow of a frown between his eyebrows, even though the rest of his face was relaxed. And then Gabriel spotted something else. Next to the couch was a bag. A duffel, clearly packed with enough things for a longer trip somewhere.

Something was really off here, and he took one last look at Sam's sleeping face, filing it away in his mind for later perusal, before taking hold of Sam's strong shoulder and gently shaking him awake.

“Hey... hey, kiddo?”

Sam slowly blinked awake, and the smile he sent Gabriel when he finally managed to focus his eyes made Gabriel's chest physically hurt with how hard his heart was pounding.

“Gabriel... hi,” Sam breathed, acting for all the world like Gabriel was the best thing in the world to wake up to. Stomping hard on that thought, Gabriel shook him gently again.

“Hey, sport. Any specific reason you're passed out on my couch?”

This seemed to finally wake up Sam properly, and he looked around before realization dawned on his face. “Oh... Oh! Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fall asleep.” He sat up and rubbed his face vigorously, willing himself to wake up before facing Gabriel again. “Ugh. I just meant to pop in and have a quick talk before I leave. I hate to do this, but I have to ask for some time off.”

“Sure, no problem,” Gabriel said immediately. “Something serious?”

Sam seemed to waver, but then his shoulders slumped and he sighed. “Well... yes. It actually is. I have to go home.”

“I'm guessing you don't mean home to Andy and his questionable substances?”

“No, I mean back home. To Dean and dad.”

Gabriel nodded. “Can I ask why?”

“It's... I don't wanna weigh you down with my problems-”

“Sam, you're my friend. You can talk to me, okay? I can take it,” Gabriel said with a half-smile.

Sam smiled back and visibly bolstered himself before speaking again. “Dean called me this morning. He doesn't know how it happened, but dad is in some serious financial trouble. It might be a tax thing or something, I dunno. The only thing we know for sure right now is that we need five thousand dollars by Thursday, or the bank will take the auto shop.” He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated.

“That shop is my dad's life. He built it up from nothing, and I can't even imagine what would happen if he lost it. Not to mention that him and Dean live there too, so in three days they could be homeless as well as jobless. It's a nightmare.” He sighed. “I've scraped together everything I have, but even though you pay me insanely well, I could only find enough for the bus trip home and maybe one night in a motel, if everything falls apart. I don't know what we're gonna do.”

Gabriel nodded along to Sam's explanation, but by the end, he was grinning. “Sam... honestly, sometimes I wonder about you. You're a bright kid, but right now you're being downright dumb.” He hurried on before Sam's budding frown could develop into a full-blown bitch face. “You're talking to a person who can solve all your problems with barely a dent in his wallet. Five thousand dollars is pocket change for me, Sam.”

“I... I didn't want to make you feel like I only like you for your money or something,” Sam mumbled.

Chuckling, Gabriel shook his head. “Kiddo, you've done nothing but reject my money from day one. If I didn't know better, I would have thought you were allergic to dollar bills.”

Sam smiled weakly, but it was brief. “I didn't want to have to ask you for this...”

“You're not. I'm offering. Besides, you're gonna pay me back one day when you're a hotshot lawyer, okay?”

“Really?” Sam's whole face was slowly brightening and Gabriel had never felt richer in his life.

“You bet. And don't you worry, I'll be adding a hefty interest rate. You'll owe me double in the end.”

Gabriel was taken completely by surprise when Sam suddenly darted off the couch and pulled him into a bone-crunching hug. It was all incredibly awkward, Sam half on his knees in front of the armchair and Gabriel pulled to the edge of the seat. But all Gabriel noticed at that moment was how amazing it felt to be completely enveloped in Sam's long arms, pressed tightly against his chest and breathing into his hair.

“Thank you. Thank you so so much,” Sam was murmuring into Gabriel's shoulder, and for just a moment, Gabriel allowed himself to forget all his hang-ups and just hugged back firmly.

“Anytime, kiddo. Anytime.”

By the time they finally parted, Gabriel had almost forgotten how to breathe, and Sam's eyes looked shiny in the low light as he sat back on the couch. Taking a few deep breaths now that his ribs weren't being squashed any longer, Gabriel forced his heart to get from his throat back to his chest where it belonged before he felt he was able to talk again.

“Okay, so here's how it's gonna go. I'm gonna pop out for a sec and get you the money in cash. We're on a timetable here, and a check might be rejected or something. I've seen some really shitty excuses to get people evicted, so we don't wanna take any chances. What time does your bus leave?”

Sam looked at his watch. “Uh... shit... well, I was gonna catch the five PM one, but since it's now five thirty, I guess it'll have to be the seven PM one.”

“Perfect, gives me plenty of time to get the cash and get you on a cab to the bus station.”

“You don't have to–” Sam started, but Gabriel cut him off.

“Don't even start. I want to. End of story.”

Sam held his hands up in surrender and let Gabriel talk him into having a beer while he popped out. When he went to the door, Chewie bounced around his feet and whined when Gabriel made to leave without him. Hesitating, Gabriel considered the pleading eyes directed at him. Obviously Chewie had been taking lessons from Bones on how to perfect the puppy look, because it took mere seconds for Gabriel to crack. “Okay, fine, come along then,” he groaned, grabbing the leash from the coat rack before closing the door on Sam's snickering and Bones' snorting. Cheeky bastards.

When he got back, Sam raised an eyebrow at the cardboard box he was handed. “Okay, so I got you a sandwich for your trip, big deal,” Gabriel shrugged, and tried to ignore how his cheeks heated. “Besides, the cash is in there too. You might be huge, but five thousand bucks in an obvious bag can get even you mugged. Not many people wanna take on an eight foot yeti for a sandwich, though.”

Sam opened the box, looked inside and sent him a brilliant smile. “You're worried about me?”

“Of course I am. My friend and my money are at risk here.” Gabriel said evenly, turning his back to try and get his goddamn face to stop looking like a tomato. There was silence for a long moment where Gabriel could feel Sam's eyes on his back.

“Thanks. Again,” Sam finally said. Gabriel just nodded in return before deciding that a change of subject was in order.

“So, what are your plans for your mutt while you're off saving the family business?”

Sam blinked. “Uh... I was gonna take him with me.”

“Five hours by bus with a huge dog? No way that can be comfortable for him. Why don't you just leave him here with me?”

“But... don't you have... work?” Sam stammered.

“Yeah, but in case you hadn't noticed, my dog walker is going to be out of town, so I'll be going home early to walk my own dog anyway. Besides, does your dad even like dogs?”

Shuffling his feet, Sam grimaced. “Not really, no.”

“Then that's settled. Lemme call you a cab so you can go save the day.”

“Gabriel, I–”

“If you're gonna thank me again or try to talk me out of getting you safely to the station, then zip it. Now get a move on, you've got a bus to catch!”

Gabriel called a cab, shoved Sam into it and paid the driver in advance to avoid Sam trying to pick up the check himself. Sam rolled his eyes, but still waved goodbye cheerfully as the car pulled away, leaving Gabriel and the dogs to stare wistfully after it from the sidewalk.

Chapter 8.

Sam had promised to text Gabriel when he arrived, and some time after midnight he reported that he was with Dean, safe and sound. Gabriel didn't even try to delude himself that he hadn't been waiting up. At this point he was at least admitting to himself that there was no way he would be able to sleep until he'd heard from Sam.

The next morning he impulsively took the day off. Ava sounded genuinely concerned on the phone, but as soon as she was assured that he was fine she joined the choir of cheeky bastards meddling in his life by telling him he'd better not be back until he'd had some fun. He huffed and hung up on her, just to make a point, and then channel surfed with the dogs until he got bored. And when he got bored, he inevitably started wondering how things were going with Sam. Which was bad.

While he was considering what to do with his day to distract himself, Bones tried to squeeze his entire bulk into Chewie's tiny doggy bed. When Gabriel was done laughing, he decided to go shopping for something that fit Bones, plus whatever else he felt like the dogs should have, and then let Sam protest all he wanted later.

He piled the dogs into his boring but dependable car, which he hardly ever used, but he doubted any cab driver would wanna haul two dogs around, plus whatever stuff he ended up taking home. A couple of hours later he had to take three trips on the elevator to bring in the dogs and all the things he'd bought, and he briefly considered if maybe he should find some kids to spoil instead. It was amazing what you could buy in pet stores these days, really. But Bones was ecstatic about his new doggy bed, and Chewie promptly decided that his own was so last Tuesday, and instead snuggled up along with Bones in the bigger one.

Since it was apparently naptime for the dogs, Gabriel packed away all the tennis balls, chew toys, treats, blankets and various pet-related knickknacks before sitting down in his office corner to at least try and get some work done. But going pet-shopping had only kept his mind off Sam for so long, and as quiet descended on his apartment, all his mind could do was run in circles around what was going on in Winchester-land. So when his phone rang he pounced on it, a superhero joke ready on his lips, but it died the moment he heard Sam's voice.

“Gabriel,” Sam said simply, and Gabriel was immediately on high alert, because even that single word had made it clear that Sam's voice was wobbling.

“Sam? What's wrong?”

“Well... looks like I won't owe you money after all. He, uhm...” There was the audible sound of swallowing before Sam could continue. “My dad. He didn't want the money. He said–” Sam's voice cracked and for a long, agonizing moment there was only the slight rustling of movement on the other end.

“Sam?” Gabriel prompted carefully.

“He said he didn't want anything from me! Ever!” The words suddenly rushed forth. “That shop is his life, his and Dean's, but he would rather hold on to his stupid pride and lose everything than accept anything from me!” Sam's voice shook more and more with every word. “And now of course he won't accept any help from Dean either, because he thinks Dean will just have gotten the money from me!” There was a sound like a choked-back sob, and Gabriel couldn't decide if the acute heartache he felt from knowing Sam was in distress was more likely to make him cry too or punch something.

“Please tell me you're on your way home,” Gabriel begged, only realizing after the fact that what he'd really meant was 'home to me'.

“I have to,” Sam confirmed, a very telltale sniff making Gabriel clutch his phone so hard the casing creaked. “Dean picked me up late last night, and I stayed in his room until this morning. Dad was not happy when he realized I was there. He let me stay just long enough to shout at me, and then he kicked me out.” Another half-sob escaped, and Gabriel was relieved to hear the scratchy PA system of a bus station echo in the background. That meant Sam was on his way. “The things he shouted at me... and at Dean...”

“Look, you just get your ass on a bus back here, and take a cab to my place. You can crash here, spend some quiet time with your mutt or watch stupid movies or whatever. Just don't go back to that drafty opium den you call home, okay? Please? For my sanity.”

There was more sniffling, and then a quiet: “Okay,” as if Sam was just too drained to argue. “Bus leaves in twenty.”

“All right. I'll see you in a few hours, kiddo.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Anytime. And I mean that,” Gabriel added.

“I know.”

After hanging up, Gabriel stood frozen in his living room for several minutes processing what had just happened. Sam was upset, and for that alone Gabriel felt a serious urge to scream. But Sam also needed comfort, and while it didn't feel like much, Gabriel could at least make sure there was food and such in the house. It would make him feel less useless to go out, anyway.

So he went grocery shopping for the first time in years and bought whatever he could think of that might cheer Sam up. Not that he expected Sam to really be able to cheer up at all, at least not at first. Gabriel knew how deeply family could cut you, so there probably had to be a period of shock. But if there was the slightest chance that snacks and booze could dull the pain just a little, then Gabriel was damn well giving it a shot. All the effort he could put into making his home as comfortable as possible for a distraught friend could still only take so long, and he ended up spending hours pacing and wringing his hands, waiting in agonized impatience.

When Sam finally came through the door hours later, Gabriel was going out of his skin from worry, and he forgot all about how he should really not be so attached when Sam simply dropped his stuff and pulled Gabriel into a desperate hug, not even stopping to take off his coat. Gabriel hugged back fiercely, and let Sam take whatever comfort he needed. It was awkward from the height difference, and Sam would probably end up with a back ache for it, but Gabriel couldn't care less.

“It's okay, kiddo,” he said, gently rubbing Sam's broad back, and in return, Sam hugged him tighter. His breath hitched slightly and he hid his face in Gabriel's shoulder. Every shaky exhale cut Gabriel more painfully than any knife could have, and he held on as tightly as he could, letting Sam lean on him.

“I'm here, Sam. I'm right here,” he murmured. And just like that, Sam fell apart. His legs gave way and he tumbled to his knees, dragging Gabriel down with him. They ended up on the kitchen floor, Sam slumped over, but still clutching desperately at Gabriel, who ended up almost straddling his knees. And Sam's next breath was a sob.

“Shhh, baby, it's okay,” Gabriel hushed, hardly even aware of the endearment he let slip. “It's okay, I'm here. It's okay.” He kept saying it, hoping against hope that it was true. That he could somehow make it okay, while Sam's shoulders shook with every ragged sob.

“He told me to get out of his house and never show my face there again,” Sam said between shuddering breaths. “He said... he said I'm no longer his son.”

“Oh, Sam, I'm so sorry.”

“He said I brought it on myself by leaving them. Thinking that they weren't good enough for my fancy dreams or whatever.” Sam's voice was wobbly and muffled by Gabriel's shoulder, but every word shredded his heart a little more. He felt a very acute urge to go carve old man Winchester a new one or two for treating his own child like that. Especially a child like Sam. Generous, humble, kind, brilliant Sam, who had done absolutely nothing to deserve this kind of hurt. As much as Gabriel had really wanted Sam in his arms, this wasn't the way. Not by a long shot.

He let Sam soak his shoulder with tears until there were no more left, stroking his hair gently, and he stayed on the floor, holding Sam close, refusing to be the one to pull away. There was no telling how long they sat there, but by the time Sam finally shifted slightly, Gabriel's knees were sore and his shoulder was cold under his damp shirt. Almost afraid of what he'd see, Gabriel hesitated before raising his eyes to meet Sam's as he pulled away. Tear-streaked and reddened, Sam's face was a mess, but he still gave Gabriel a weak smile that felt like sunshine after a hailstorm. The smile died away, and Gabriel worried for a moment, but then Sam's gaze darted down to his lips briefly, and then back up to his eyes, as if asking permission.

Gabriel's jaw dropped open, and the air between them immediately felt heavier. His insides were turmoil as Sam edged closer, his lips parted slightly, warm breath washing over Gabriel's lower lip. They hovered there, only the tiniest space between them, and Gabriel was feeling weak in a way that made him very glad he was already on his knees. But just as it felt like it was inevitable for him to close the gap and let himself drown, one single fresh tear trickled down Sam's cheek. And in that instant it slammed into Gabriel what was at stake here. If he took this step, then there would be nothing but more heartache on the horizon for Sam. And there was no way in hell Gabriel would be the cause of that.

Panicked, he turned his head away, took a few deep breaths, and then slowly pulled out of Sam's arms, not daring to look at his face and see the hurt there. There was an awkward moment where they both just sat on the floor, pointedly not looking at each other. But then there was a low whining sound, and Bones cautiously came closer, clearly uneasy and apparently not daring to approach fully until Sam let him.

“It's okay, buddy, come here,” Sam beckoned, and Bones padded to his side, ears back and tail lowered. “I'm fine, don't worry about it.” Bones sniffed his ear and licked his chin, as if to make sure he was still the same, before finally wagging his tail slightly and dropping his heavy head into Sam's lap. Chewie was watching the whole thing from the huge doggy bed, his ears flicking towards them. When Gabriel snapped his fingers, he shot off the cushion and into Gabriel's arms, squirming wildly, unable to sit still now that the tension had finally broken.

Desperate to lighten the mood, Gabriel got to his feet with a groan, his knees popping loudly, and announced: “Right. Snack time!” He then got out some of the bags and boxes of dog treats, and amused himself with letting Chewie pick which one to open first. Bones came to join them when the first bag was opened, but not before giving Sam's hand one last lick. Deliberately avoiding looking at Sam, Gabriel fed the dogs way too many treats, while Sam slowly picked himself up off the floor and finally got his coat and boots off.

“You mind if I take a shower?” he asked Gabriel's back, his voice low and coarse from crying.

“Sure, go ahead.”

The instant the bathroom door closed behind Sam, Gabriel let himself keel over and banged his head onto his kitchen counter. “Damn, damn, damn,” he chanted, giving himself a nice sore spot on his forehead before he finally felt he'd chastised himself enough for having no brains whatsoever. He should know better. He should have realized from his past that nobody's happiness should ever be in his hands, not like this. He should really have learned this particular lesson by now.

Once he'd given himself a decent headache to go along with his massive load of guilt for causing even more hurt while Sam had plenty on his shoulders, Gabriel decided to treat it like he did most of his emotional issues. He ignored it and ordered some really nice food for them. Because he might have groceries, but he could hardly boil an egg.

Sam emerged from the bathroom looking cleaner but still crushed. Gabriel sent him a cautious smile, unwilling to talk about what just happened, but anxious to show that there were no hard feelings. He got a tiny twitch of a smile in return, and while it was next to nothing, it was more than he'd hoped for.

Going silently along with whatever Gabriel offered, Sam sat down on one end of the couch, the dogs both snuggling up to him, and let Gabriel find a CSI rerun for them to watch until the food arrived. They ate in silence that was sometimes comfortable but mostly tense. Sam hardly spoke at all until much later when Gabriel told him to go sleep in the bed. He tried to argue that he should not be kicking Gabriel out of his own bed, but Gabriel took gross advantage of Sam's exhaustion, and pretty much pushed him into the bedroom. Under the circumstances he also chose to overlook how the dogs joined Sam on the bed, breaking one of the few no-dogs-allowed-here rules he had, and was happy to see Sam hug both furry bodies close and drift off almost instantly.

Checking off “Sam getting some rest” from his mental check list, Gabriel went on to the next point on his plan for solving this situation. Regardless of his complicated feelings towards Sam, he was still in crisis mode. Had been so since the moment Sam had told him of his dad's money troubles. He couldn't not try and fix it. He just couldn't. He'd always been too eager to try and solve other people's problems, even when they didn't want him to. He just couldn't help it. No matter how many times he'd gotten in serious trouble over it, he'd never been able to rid himself of the urge to fix something when he could. And this? This he could fix.

He made a few calls and packed a bag before stretching out on the couch to grab a few hours sleep. His phone alarm woke him up while the sky was still dark outside, and even the dogs thought it was too early to get up. He wrote a short note to Sam, claiming there was an emergency at work, asking him to look after the dogs for the day and to feel free to raid his fridge. Then he was out the door, ready to save the day.

Chapter 9:

It was late Wednesday evening when Gabriel finally made it back home. He'd texted Sam and had to his joy been informed that he was still at Gabriel's apartment and that he was cooking them dinner. So while Gabriel dragged himself inside, feeling worn out and exhausted, he was also smiling. Because if Sam was still there, then there was at least hope that he wasn't hurt too badly by the rejection, which Gabriel had spent pretty much every quiet moment all day thinking about.

Sam was at the stove, stirring something which smelled absolutely delicious, and he turned his head when Gabriel entered the kitchen. “Hey,” he said softly, a weak but sincere smile on his face.

“Hey, kiddo. What's cooking?”

“Pasta. And... I don't think this tomato-concoction really has a name. You did tell me to raid your fridge, but seriously, there were some strange things in there. I had to get a little creative,” Sam shrugged.

“Well it smells awesome,” Gabriel said, peeking into the pot of mostly tomato red. “I guess my spice rack didn't disappoint.”

“You do have a nice rack,” Sam grinned.

Gabriel snorted out a surprised laugh. “Oh, Sammy! Dinner and banter? You're spoiling me.”

“You're letting me camp out here, eat your food, mooch off your wifi and you forced me to steal your bed. I'd say dinner is a small token of gratitude.”

“Don't mention it,” Gabriel mumbled, but then he smirked. “No really, don't.”

“Fine, be that way,” Sam said mildly. “Would you set the table, please?”

“Yes, dear,” Gabriel simpered and got a half-hearted kick to his shin for it.

It seemed to Gabriel like their interactions were the same as always. Light, friendly and comfortable. And he reveled in it. As much as he knew they could never go further, he was at least admitting to himself now that he craved Sam's presence, and exchanges like this were like balm on his soul, even it made his heart hurt with want.

They settled down to eat and it was almost painfully domestic. Sam asked about Gabriel's day, to which he lied smoothly without going into too much detail. He changed the subject by praising the food and the rest of the meal went by with cheerful debating over what did or did not actually belong in a well-stocked fridge.

The dogs stuck their noses up at the leftovers because they knew that Gabriel had treats. Under the force of two sets of puppy eyes, Gabriel folded like wet tissue paper and spoiled the dogs rotten while Sam cleaned up. He wiped his hands on a towel and leaned back against the small dining table, just watching Gabriel half-heartedly trying to get the dogs to do tricks in exchange for the treats, but mostly just giving them out.

“They'll get fat if you keep that up,” Sam admonished, but he smiled while saying it.

“Good thing I have a top quality dog walker then, huh?”

Sam smirked, then fell silent. Gabriel almost jumped when he spoke again. “You know... I got a really interesting phone call today.”

“Oh?”

“Turns out dad and Dean got a special order this morning. Some guy walked in and commissioned a custom-made Cadillac.”

“Is that so?” Gabriel offered, keeping his voice level.

“Yeah. Paid half of the estimated costs in advance. Cash.”

“Really? I guess all their problems are solved then.”

“Uh-huh. Quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say?”

Gabriel shrugged. “It happens.”

Sam stared at him with an incredulous frown, but then he snorted. “Seriously, Gabriel? A fire engine red Caddy with pink fuzzy interior?”

Gabriel's shoulders slumped in defeat. “I asked them not to spread my name around. I see confidentiality counts for nothing these days. Your brother needs to learn how to keep his trap shut,” he grumbled.

“He didn't tell me anything about you. Only the car. But come on, you leave town on 'business' and a few hours later my dad's problems are all solved?”

“It could have been anyone!” Gabriel protested.

“Ordering a car like that? Please. I bet you only wanted it that outrageous so you could enjoy the look on Dean's face.”

Gabriel snickered. “He did look like he was about to puke when I mentioned the fuzzy upholstery.” He paused suddenly. “Wait, how did you know I was out of town?”

“I called your office. Your secretary told me everything.”

“Seriously? That meddling little minx.”

“You should give her a raise. She actually cares about you, you know,” Sam said gently.

Gabriel just snorted, because what could he even say to that?

“I care about you too.”

Sam's quiet words twisted Gabriel's heart and he shifted uncomfortably. “Sam, please don't go there.”

“Why not?”

“Because–” Gabriel cut himself off. “It's complicated.”

Sam looked at him oddly but then suddenly reached out. “Gimme your hand.”

Uneasy, but curious, Gabriel came closer and let Sam take hold of his wrist. Leaning on the table, Sam was low enough to look Gabriel directly in the eye.

“Tell me you don't want this,” Sam asked clearly, his fingers a steady pressure on Gabriel's pulse.

“I don't want this,” Gabriel replied, but even to his own ears it wounded weak.

“You are such a liar.”

Gabriel huffed. “You're saying you can tell by my pulse if I'm lying? Please. That's only on TV.”

“All your pulse tells me is that your heart's racing. Mine is too,” Sam murmured, pulling gently on Gabriel's wrist. In spite of himself, Gabriel followed the pull and stepped in even closer.

“This is such a bad idea, you don't even know,” Gabriel groaned quietly, gaze dropping to the floor to avoid Sam's earnest eyes.

“Then tell me.”

“I–” Gabriel floundered, lost for words, and when he looked up he realized just how close they were. Sam was right there, leaning in, and goddammit, Gabriel was just not strong enough for this, he just wasn't.

With a small sound of surrender, Gabriel surged forward and let Sam draw him in with his long arms. Sam sighed, a heavy gust of breath through his nose, as their lips sealed tight and Gabriel breathed it right in. Lost in the heavenly sensations he pressed in as closely as possible, Sam's knees parting in invitation, and everything was a haze of pressure, soft skin and slick tongues. Carding his hands through Sam's hair prompted a wonderful rumbling moan, and Gabriel swallowed it up, determined to absorb everything Sam had to offer. And sweet stars above, did Sam offer a lot.

His lips were soft but firm on Gabriel's, and youth or not, he definitely knew what he wanted, pressing in with teeth and tongue. Gabriel opened up gladly, tilting his head back for easier access, and Sam's very presence was overpowering, leaving Gabriel shivering and struggling to just hang on. Had Sam not kept his arms tightly around him, Gabriel was fairly sure he would have fallen down, his knees feeling more like Jell-o than joints.

His heart was pounding as if it was trying to bounce right through his chest, and Sam was breathing harshly, needing more air than he was getting, but clearly unwilling to part with Gabriel's lips for a single moment. The kissing turned frantic with sudden need, and they almost toppled over in their haste to move things along. Gabriel was half-ready to just let Sam bend him over the kitchen table and get on with it right there, but Sam pushed at him, walking him backwards towards the living room, presumably planning to end up in the bedroom eventually.

Gabriel was more than happy to go along with it, until they stumbled, not even halfway across the kitchen floor, and there was a painful twinge in his back. Had it been any other time, Gabriel would have assumed it was just a coincidence or a result of long hours spent in transit that day. But in that instant it was a sudden chilling reminder that he was in fact not a teenager. It all came back to him in a sickening rush. The age gap, the fact that this was a massively big mistake, and the added concern that Sam was really just looking for comfort in a difficult situation. Never mind that Gabriel had solved the financial issue. Sam had still pretty much been cut off from his family mere hours ago, making him vulnerable and goddammit, Gabriel should know better!

With monumental effort, Gabriel jerked his face away, ending the kiss, but this didn't deter Sam in the least. He simply moved his lips to Gabriel's neck instead, and it was a very near thing for Gabriel to remain standing through that.

“Sam,” he croaked. “Sam you gotta... you gotta stop.”

The only reply was a heated moan right in Gabriel's ear, and yet another insistent shove towards the door.

“I'm serious. Sam, please. Listen... Sam! Sam!”

Finally, Sam pulled back and looked Gabriel in the eye, but he most certainly didn't let go, keeping his arms locked firmly around Gabriel.

“What?” he panted, clearly confused.

Gabriel gritted his teeth against the urge to just throw all his reservations away and kiss the confusion right off Sam's face. “We... can't do this,” he grated, weakly pushing against Sam's chest. But there was no give, because Sam was not with the program and simply held Gabriel tighter.

“Why the hell not?” he hissed. “Is there someone else?”

“No!” Gabriel snapped, shocked that Sam would somehow think that.

“Are you dying from some horrible illness?” Sam barreled on.

“No!”

“Then what?!” Sam was slowly getting louder, and Gabriel winced at the hurt in his voice.

“I just can't!”

“WHY?!”

The desperate cry made Gabriel squeeze his eyes shut and turn his face away. Sam was in pain again, and this time there was no doubt that Gabriel was causing it. It was pure agony.

“You're too young, Sam.” Gabriel could hear his voice quivering. “Trust me, you're better off with someone else.”

This finally made Sam loosen his grip, and Gabriel staggered when Sam pulled away abruptly.

“Bullshit,” he snarled, suddenly angry. “I'm clearly not too young for you physically. And even if I cared about your age, which I don't, the fact that you think you know what's good for me is really fucking insulting.”

“It's not about you–”

“It sure as hell feels like it! Why are you pushing me away?!”

“Because I'll hurt you!” Gabriel yelled. “I always hurt people!”

Sam stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. “What the fuck gave you that idea?!”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Please, you've known me for less than a year. Assuming you know all about me is optimistic at best and dumb at worst.” He knew he was being cruel, but he was at the end of his rope. That didn't make it any easier to see Sam looking like he'd been slapped in the face.

“Fine, so maybe I don't know you,” Sam spat. “But don't make this choice for me. Give me the goddamn courtesy of at least making an informed decision on my own. Tell me why.”

Feeling like ice was pooling in his stomach, Gabriel finally realized that Sam wasn't going to let him off the hook. There was no way around it. He would have to open the one can of worms he had really been hoping he would never ever have to look into again. But he couldn't deny that Sam deserved answers. Especially after Gabriel pushing him away twice.

He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling like he would rather be anywhere else in the world at that moment. “All right then,” he said coldly. “You wanna know? Fine.” He turned and walked away a few steps before changing his mind and coming back, but stopping at least an arm's length from Sam.

“Okay, so... Back when you were barely a twinkle in your dad's eye, some shit went down in my family. It was bad.” He sighed. “I was different then. Reckless. Carefree. Typical rich kid.”

Gabriel paced back and forth in front of Sam, the caged lion metaphor coming briefly to mind, because he sure did feel trapped.

“I'd just started college here in town, but I still lived at home. Actually, we all did. Michael and Luke had just gotten their degrees and were in the middle of taking over running dad's company. Another brother of mine, Raphael, was working across town as an intern– never mind, that doesn't really matter. What you need to know is that at the time, there was dad, us four brothers and our only sister. Anna.”

He sighed.

“She was the baby of the family. Our mom died giving birth to her. The doctors warned her that having more kids could kill her, but she wanted a girl so badly...” he had to swallow hard before he could continue. “She got her wish. But after she died, dad was never the same. He pulled into himself, and by the time I started college, I'd hardly even seen him in years.

“Anna was sixteen then. Spoiled rotten, but God... so funny and bright. And feisty. Which was probably why one of dad's only real instructions regarding her upbringing was to pretty much lock her up until she was eighteen. For her... 'protection'. Her curfews were strict, no exceptions ever, and Michael... let's just say he took his responsibility as the oldest son really fucking seriously. He enforced those rules like you wouldn't believe.”

Gabriel was surprised to feel himself smile as he thought back to the events of his freshman year.

“That didn't stop Anna, though. She got so good at climbing out of her window that she could probably have become a cat burglar. But anyway... I was living it up at college and Anna was in the proverbial gilded cage. Then, one weekend, I accidentally found out that she was planning on jumping the fence to go to a concert.”

He shook his head sadly, and Sam shifted uncomfortably, as if sensing which way things were going.

“I was all for it,” Gabriel continued. “I mean, one night of screaming at some teen idols, what harm could it possibly do? So I helped her sneak out and I drove her there. And when the concert was over, hours after her curfew, I picked her up again to take her home. We were so proud of ourselves, total partners in crime.” He smiled weakly.

“But then... we must have been maybe half a mile from home... a drunk driver ran a red light.” Gabriel's voice was wobbling, but he forced himself to continue. “His jeep smashed into the passenger side of my car. Anna was... she never felt a thing.”

He could see Sam battling with himself, clearly wanting to offer some sort of comfort. Sweet, generous Sam. But he was also observant enough to realize that Gabriel wasn't done, so he kept his distance.

“I was barely even bruised. The drunk driver ended up in the hospital, but Anna... I don't think you can imagine what losing her did to our family. All because I thought I knew better.”

“Gabriel...”

“No, don't, Sam. Just don't. You have no idea,” Gabriel interjected, rubbing a weary hand over his face. “At the time I didn't think it was my fault. And maybe it wasn't. But considering the events that followed... let's just say that it has become all too clear to me that I should never hold any kind of responsibility for anyone, ever.”

Sam was about to argue, but Gabriel hurried on. “You see, losing Anna was pretty much just one more nail in a coffin I'd been building for myself my entire life. All through my teens I broke shit all the time, I pranked the fuck out of anyone who stood still long enough, and I only started college because dad told me to. Considering he only spoke to us maybe once or twice a year, when he did speak, you listened.

“I've had pets die on me, I've crashed cars and broken windows. I drove Michael and his goddamn nanny army completely insane with my teenage thoughtlessness. Back then my motto could have been 'Just kidding!' I never took anything seriously.

“After the accident, our family fell apart. At the funeral, Raphael took one look at me and walked away. He got in his car and drove off. None of us have heard from him since. Within a year, dad died. Could have been old age, I guess, but the general consensus was that it was grief. I might as well have put a gun to his head.”

“Gabriel, you have to know that's not true. None of this is your fault!” Sam protested.

“Oh yeah? Do try and tell Michael that. And Luke, holy crap, he'd already been blaming me for just about everything since the day I was born. He was always fighting with Michael over stupid shit, but after Anna, they could at least join forces in making sure I was reminded every day what I'd done.”

Sam was pale and his eyes were pained. Gabriel couldn't bear to look at him.

“At first I didn't believe them. But I guess it was just a matter of time before I fucked up again, and trust me, it didn't take all that much convincing after that. Remember how I went out with Balthazar and Cas on New Year's Eve? Well there's a reason we usually do that on Christmas. Because Balthazar hasn't spoken to his mother since he was seventeen and she walked in on us making out. Just because I thought it would be fun. My fault. And Cas? He's always followed Balthazar everywhere, so he hasn't seen his family in ages either. Also my fault.”

“Come on, Gabriel, it can't be that simple!”

“It can, and it is. The evidence is right there. Whenever I decide something is a good idea, then it always turns out not to be. Balthazar, Cas... Anna... they were all younger than me, and they trusted that I knew better. And I let them all down. And like it or not, if we do this, sooner or later I will let you down too. It's just my nature. And you deserve better.”

The quiet that descended when Gabriel trailed off could have been cut with a knife, it was so thick.

“You need to talk to somebody about this,” Sam said eventually, his voice low but firm. “Someone professional.”

Gabriel snorted. “I did. But no matter how many times a shrink tells you that you're not to blame, it can't erase the past. Besides, as much as these paid professionals seem to believe none of it was my fault, that doesn't change the fact that dad thought it was my fault. Raphael thought it was my fault. Michael and Luke still think it's my fault. And frankly, so do I.”

He fell quiet again, and Sam just looked at him, the silence slowly stretching between them, until the very lack of sound felt like a bottomless crevasse keeping them apart. Even the dogs stayed still, well aware of the tension in the room. But Gabriel had no more words. It had been years since he'd even wanted to think about those events, and trudging through them again had been draining.

Feeling the long day and recent emotional rollercoaster catching up with him, he eventually turned his back on Sam, and went to the living room where he slumped into his armchair. It was a long time before Sam followed him, but he ended up hovering in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Can I just... say something?” he asked cautiously. Gabriel just nodded, too weary to argue.

“Look... it's not that I don't get what you're saying. I don't agree, but I get it. And holy fuck, I have to say that your brothers are off the douchebag chart.”

In spite of himself, Gabriel snickered. “Yeah, sounds about right.”

“But... I still don't understand what this has to do with you and me. You're a lot older than me, sure. But I'm not gonna make you into some kind of father figure. No thanks. The first time we met, you told me that you knew I wasn't stupid. Right now you're acting like you've forgotten.”

“I haven't. I've also not forgotten how I was worried about sexual harassment suits barely five minutes after hiring you. That really should have been a warning sign, but as usual I've shown an astounding lack of brains,” Gabriel said bitterly. “Thinking with my dick brought us here. I probably wouldn't have thought of hiring you at all if I'd just made sure I got laid every once in a blue moon.”

Sam gaped. “Okay, now you're lying to yourself. You're making this look worse than it is! If you only wanted to fuck me, then this would never have become a problem! You would have just used me and fired me, end of story. You don't spend this much money, time and effort on someone just because you have a freakin' hard-on!”

“Sam, listen–”

“No you listen!” Sam said sharply. “You are blowing this shit out of proportion, because you're so used to punishing yourself over something that happened decades ago! I'd give you a fucking fact check if I thought you'd hear it right now! But you're so deep in your own misery, and I'm just not equipped to handle that!”

“I'm not asking you to! In fact, I'm asking you not to!” Gabriel yelled back.

“But I still want you, you enormous asshole! With all your snark and self-hatred and your nightmare of a family! Maybe that makes me stupid after all, but I don't fucking care!”

“You should care! It's for your own good!”

Sam looked livid, his hands clenched into tight, white-knuckled fists, as he stalked in close to loom over Gabriel in the chair. “Didn't you just tell me that you shouldn't hold responsibility like that?” His voice was low again, with a dangerous edge to it, but even if it hadn't been, his words felt like a punch to the gut. And had Gabriel been a smarter man, a more reasonable or balanced person, he would have taken them to heart. But as it was, all he did was panic.

He froze, and his own fists clenched on the armrests. “Right then. You're fired,” he gritted out through his teeth. “Pack your stuff, and get the hell out of here.”

Sam paled. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” Gabriel lied. “That's what I want.”

For a long time, Sam just stood there watching him. Gabriel didn't meet his eyes, instead fixing his gaze somewhere around Sam's knees. Eventually, Sam's knees left Gabriel's line of vision, and there were the sounds of things being thrown into his bag. Barely two minutes later, Sam was clipping the leash onto Bones, ready to walk out of Gabriel's life. But he hovered in the doorway to the living room for a few agonizing heartbeats.

“Gabriel?”

He really shouldn't have looked up. He should have just ignored that pleading voice, but... who knew when or even if he would ever see Sam again? There was just no stopping how his eyes flicked up to meet Sam's.

“If you ever decide to hate yourself a little less, or at least try to stop the goddamn cycle of guilt you have going... then you know where I live. Don't start telling yourself that I wouldn't wanna see you. I'm telling you now: I would. Anytime. Even if it's only as friends or hell, if it's just a dog-walker you need. Please remember that.”

He didn't wait for an answer. He simply turned on his heel, tugged a reluctant Bones along beside him, and closed the door behind them. Chewie whined at the door, and Gabriel let his head fall forward into his hands.

Chapter 10.

By day three, Gabriel admitted to himself that he was wallowing.

He'd been telling himself up until then that he'd merely been re-grouping. Processing. Thinking. But eventually he realized that he wasn't so much thinking as obsessing, the argument with Sam going on endless loop in his head, only interrupted by Chewie's walks and fitful bouts of napping. He'd told Ava that he was taking the rest of the week off and then turned off his phone. Sadly, he'd forgotten all about his land line, and Saturday morning it rang. Gabriel was very tempted to just yank out the damn cord, but caller ID told him it was Castiel. With a heavy sigh he picked up, desperately hoping that whatever the emergency, it was something he wouldn't have to put too much effort into.

“Cas, what?” he greeted shortly. Then he groaned. Because it was not Castiel on the line.

“Funny thing, Gabby,” Balthazar leered. “It seems like your cell phone is off.”

“Fuck off, B.” He almost managed to hang up, but then Balthazar's next words sank in.

“Guess who just served my latte?”

Gabriel didn't answer. Suddenly it was like his voice wasn't working.

“No guesses? In that case I can inform you that he's a big, lumbering mountain of woe. What the hell happened?!”

“I... I fired him,” Gabriel croaked.

“You what?!”

“I fired him. Pink slip. No notice.”

“Why the hell would you do that?! Did he freak out over you finally putting the moves on him?”

“More like the other way around,” Gabriel muttered.

It must have been clear enough for Balthazar to hear, though, because there were several seconds of stunned silence. “Are you telling me he jumped you... and you turned him down?!”

“Twice.”

“Twice!? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Gabriel sighed heavily. “I actually have no idea anymore.”

“No shit. I know I'm going to regret asking this, but... what reason could you possibly have for turning down your boy toy?”

“Come on, you know why,” Gabriel whined.

“No, as a matter of fact I don't. I'm aware that you seem to think it has something to do with Anna, but beyond that I'm baffled.”

“It's not just Anna,” Gabriel said. “You of all people should know that.”

There was a pause that practically broadcast Balthazar's surprise.

“Right... could you pretend for a moment that you're talking to someone who has no idea what you're on about? In fact, let's not pretend.”

“B, this isn't fucking funny–”

“No, you're right, it's not! In fact, I'm starting to get really ticked off! It feels like some inside joke and I hate inside jokes when I'm not in on them! Just tell me what the hell it is I'm supposed to know!”

“You're telling me you've forgotten why you haven't spoken to your mother in twenty years?!” Gabriel still wasn't sure if Balthazar was joking or not, but if this was what he wanted, Gabriel could take the gloves off, no problem.

Again there was a brief pause, and Gabriel congratulated himself grimly on having hit the mark dead on. At least until Balthazar spoke.

“Because she was a mean old hag who spent all her time telling me what a disappointment I was? Oh, and also because she's dead, thank fuck.”

This was news to Gabriel, and he felt suddenly ill.

“She... she died, and you never... I dunno... made up?”

“Are you mad?! Why on Earth would I want that?!”

“Because... she's your mother?” Gabriel deadpanned.

Balthazar groaned with frustration. “She was a despicable woman who happened to give birth to me almost forty years ago. In my view that's not enough to make her family. I hated her, and she sure didn't like me very much either. The day I decided to leave all that shit behind was the happiest of my life and she was glad to see me go.”

“Wait,” Gabriel said slowly, suddenly feeling like he missed something. “I thought she kicked you out?”

“Hah, no, she wouldn't do that. She wouldn't want a scandal on her hands, God forbid. No, I expect she told all her friends that I'd been kidnapped and murdered or something. Sounds like a good solid reason for getting all the attention.”

Gabriel felt like his world was slowly turning upside down, so he hurriedly grasped for any familiar straw. “Well what about Cas, then? I thought he left town because you were forced to. Couldn't you just have bunked with him?”

Weirdly, this made Balthazar laugh. “Oh, Gabey, you really are out of the loop. Cas left because he wanted to bunk with me.”

“... what?”

“Cassie and I were fucking like bunnies. So bunking with him, as you put it, would not have made his parents very happy, bless their fanatic little hearts.”

There was muttering in the background and Balthazar snickered.

“Oh, and Cassie of course resents my wording, but it's all true. Personally, I think he just doesn't want to admit he thought he was in love with me at the time.”

“I got wiser,” came a disgruntled protest from Castiel, who had clearly moved closer to the phone to argue. Despite his confusion, Gabriel smiled to himself. Castiel was a mountain of calm, right up until Balthazar decided to rile him up. Gabriel had never really understood how those two had become best friends, but whatever they had, it worked. And who was he to argue with that?

“Anyway, what does it matter why we left home?” Balthazar continued. “I mean, sure, those were some really interesting times, and not always in the good way, but it's all in the past.”

“I just thought...” Gabriel trailed off, feeling incredibly stupid all of a sudden.

“You thought... what?”

“I thought your mom kicked you out because she walked in on us that one time.”

There was a muffled thump and then Castiel's voice came through the phone clear as a bell. “You were unfaithful to me?!”

“Ow! For heaven's sake, keep your knickers on! First of all, no I wasn't. It was just a bit of smooching, and secondly, when have you ever known me to be exclusive!? And thirdly, we were seventeen! 'Yes' was my default reply to any sort of proposition!” There were sounds of movement and a few muffled words of protest before Balthazar spoke again, now slightly winded. “Now that that's settled... you were about to tell me why all this ancient history even matters.”

Gabriel felt lost and frankly a little nauseous with how his whole relationship with Balthazar and Castiel suddenly had to be re-evaluated in his head. It was quite a while before he managed to shape words in his mouth again, and he was pathetically grateful to Balthazar for not filling the silence with snark for once in his life.

“So you... you and Cas... you don't... blame me? At all?”

“Blame you? For what?”

“For...” Gabriel struggled to find words for what was on his mind without sounding completely pathetic. But in the end he realized that it was probably too late for that. “I just thought that you'd been forced to leave your families behind because of yet another one of my stupid ideas,” he muttered.

“Stupid ideas? Seriously? Mate, you have the best ideas! Granted, you've been steadily becoming more of a fuddy-duddy over the years, but back in the day, nobody could out-prank you! Remember the chewing gum joke? I still get the giggles thinking about that one.”

“Alistair got expelled because of that one, in case you've forgotten. Hardly my best laid plan,” Gabriel argued bitterly. Yet another life ruined because of him.

“Oh, for Pete's sake, if anyone deserved what he got, it was Alistair. He was a complete monster who should be locked up for the good of society. Even the teachers applauded when the cops picked him up, remember?”

“It was still me who got him kicked out.”

“No, you merely showed the rest of us the way to get rid of him.”

“Which is exactly my point. I always manage to lead kids astray somehow!”

“Ohhhhh...” Balthazar said slowly. “I see now. You've gotten it into your head that because Sam is younger than you, he will automatically look to you for guidance. And that scares you.”

“Thanks, doctor. What do I owe ya?” Gabriel snapped.

“Shut up, Gabe, I'm about to give you some advice. And considering you seem to think your own advice is worth zilch, you'd better listen.”

Gabriel dearly wished he had some counter-argument to that, but he drew a blank, so he had no choice but to grudgingly let Balthazar continue.

“Thing is, if I understand you right, this whole tragic affair with you and Sam was in fact not your idea. Sure, you hired him, possibly not with entirely pure intentions, but we can safely say that acting on it was not a plan of yours. So this one is on Sam, and by your own logic, that should make it a good choice. Right?”

“It's not that simple–”

“Yes it is,” Balthazar cut him off. “And furthermore, whatever the reason, you keep bringing up poor Anna, and while I didn't know her all that well, I can say with absolute certainty that she would never ever want to stand in the way of your happiness. So if her death is messing with your head again, get help. I'm not joking about this. Find a bloody therapist and deal with it. If you ever get your head out of your arse and follow your heart, you need to at least try to not be a basket case.”

“Oh look, Mr. 'I'm Never Exclusive' is giving me relationship advice,” Gabriel quipped, feeling very uncomfortable with the entire conversation, but also thoroughly cornered.

“All I know is that nobody wants to fuck crazy people, and I can only imagine that goes double for... whatever comes after fucking.”

“You're just a fountain of wisdom, B.”

“You know it, darling. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to give Cassie a blowjob or something. I guess I owe him that for bringing up the whole in love with me thing. Plus, this is his phone.”

Gabriel chuckled and shook his head. “I will never understand what's going on with you two.”

“Best of friends, me and Cassie. Occasionally with benefits. What more is there to understand?”

“Fine. Whatever.”

“You know, if you want in on it, just say the word,” Balthazar purred, and while his tone was joking, Gabriel had no doubt Balthazar would follow up if he accepted the offer.

“Thanks but no thanks, really. Not that you aren't a totally sexy beast, but I kinda like our relationship the way it is. Besides... I... guess I'm kinda into something a little different at the moment.”

“Tall, young and strapping. I completely understand. Go get him, tiger!”

“You're a terrible influence, B.”

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah, I really kinda do,” Gabriel said finally. As much as he argued and bantered with Balthazar, the guy was one of his oldest and dearest friends, and Gabriel was never afraid to say what he felt.

But hardly had the words left his mouth before there was a rustling and the very audible sound of a zipper. “Please tell me you're not actually in the process of giving Cas a blowjob right now?!”

“Well...”

“Oh God!You shameless bastard! Ugh!”

Gabriel slammed the receiver down with a shudder. Trust Balthazar to turn an emotional moment into a vaguely scarring episode.

But, disturbingly oversharing friends or not, the conversation had given Gabriel some serious food for thought. Clearly he'd been wrong in assuming he'd been the reason for everything ugly happening around him. And while most of his mind was screaming at him that Anna was still his fault, his fault, his fault... there was suddenly also a tiny voice of doubt. What if...

Suddenly determined, he picked up the phone again.

Chapter 11.

Gabriel paced back on forth on the sidewalk outside a small café. He was man enough to admit that he was a complete nervous wreck. Not that admitting it helped a lot. So much was riding on this meeting. Gabriel couldn't even remember the last time anything in his life had mattered this much. Except maybe Sam, but he wasn't thinking about Sam right now. Except he was. God, how he wished Sam were there with him, offering support and strength with his mere presence.

But Gabriel had turned Sam away. He had nobody to blame but himself. But maybe... if this meeting worked out... maybe then there would be hope. Maybe then he could actually try to become something worth offering Sam. Balthazar's words were still fresh in his mind, and by god, Gabriel was never telling him this, but those very words ended up being the push he needed to stop pacing and go inside.

“ At least try to not be a basket case...” So he did.

He only had to look around briefly to spot the tall figure of Raphael tucked into a corner booth, fiddling with a napkin. Everything considered, he'd changed fairly little. He was still a vast presence in the room, no matter where he went. But Gabriel was still thrown off slightly from the conflicting impressions he got of familiarity and strangeness. This round-faced, graying, middle-aged man was very different from the vibrant yet steel-willed older brother Gabriel remembered. Even when they'd shared a home, Gabriel had never really spent a lot of time with Raphael. They had been very different people. But where Michael had been dutiful and Luke had been argumentative, Raphael had followed his own road with laser focus, never really causing a disturbance, but not following the stream either.

Gabriel had always felt like sort of the wild card of the bunch, flitting around, doing whatever struck his fancy that day, but avoiding conflict like the plague. Growing up with his two oldest brothers constantly fighting about every single little thing made Gabriel understandably wary of rocking the boat. Raphael had never rocked the boat, but nor had he made a very great impression. So quite honestly, Gabriel had no idea what to expect.

When Raphael looked up and spotted him, Gabriel was amazed at the broad smile erupting, and before he knew it, he was enveloped in his big brother's arms in the middle of a crowded café. Gabriel hugged back, disbelieving but desperate, and he was hardly even ashamed that his eyes were wet when they finally parted.

“Gabriel... my God, it's been.... way too long,” Raphael said, his voice low and full and familiar to Gabriel as if no time had passed.

“Raffi. It's... it's really good to see you.”

“And you, baby bro. Come, sit down. I would have ordered something for you, but I have no idea what you even like these days.”

“Same as always. Sugar with a few drops of coffee in it,” Gabriel said lightly, willing himself to not be a weirdo about this, despite the fact that his mind was still reeling over how happy Raphael was to see him.

Raphael chuckled and waved down a waitress for their orders. After she was gone, Gabriel realized that they were basically just sitting there, watching each other. It had been twenty years and they had both changed so much. And yet, not really at all. Gabriel was scrabbling around for some way to ease into the conversation, but before he knew what he was doing, words tumbled out.

“Why did you leave?”

Raphael didn't even look surprised. He just smiled sadly and sighed. “Yes, I suppose I owe you a lot of answers.”

Gabriel huffed. “I actually sort of assumed I owed you some. After all, I'm the one responsible for ripping our family apart.”

Raphael snorted. “Anyone who ever knew Anna would know that she would have gone out with or without you that night.”

“It was still me at the wheel,”Gabriel said weakly.

“Yet the only guilty party here is the bastard who thought driving drunk was a great idea,” Raphael said firmly, keeping his eyes locked on Gabriel's.

“But if it wasn't because of me, then why did you leave? The way you looked at me... I was so sure I drove you away.”

Raphael sighed again and rubbed a hand across his face. “I so dearly wish I'd done things differently. But I was half mad with grief myself and after listening to Michael and Luke bickering over the damn company through the entire funeral... I just couldn't do it anymore. Dad might as well have been dead already for how little he cared about anything at that point. And I...”

He looked away, uncomfortable.

“I suppose I always wanted something different. Michael always knew he was going to take over the company, and Luke, I suspect just always wanted Dad's attention somehow. I never really understood what was going on in your head, and Anna... well. I don't think she ever had any ambition beyond turning eighteen and getting out of that house.

“I don't know if you're old enough to remember this, but back when Mom was alive, Dad had plans for all of us. We were all supposed to join the company under Michael's management, but when Mom died... it was like he just didn't care anymore. She had wanted a family. I'm starting to think that what Dad wanted was an army, but I don't think he realized how little any of it mattered without her. So after Mom died, it all just fell to Michael.”

Gabriel nodded. Some of this was news to him, but even he remembered the many times they had all been met with a closed door when they looked to their father for guidance, leaving a young Michael to take the reins.

“I never actually thought you'd end up joining the company,” Raphael continued. “Not in a million years. What changed?”

“I guess... after Anna and... well, you...” Gabriel had to swallow hard to keep his voice working. “And then Dad dying... it felt like I was losing all of you. All I had left was Michael and Luke and the company.” He laughed hollowly. “I did try to leave once. Only once. Right after graduation. I don't know if you've ever seen Michael and Luke on the same side, but lemme tell ya... it's terrifying. And if there's one thing they seem to agree on, it is that I'm the one responsible for destroying our family.”

Raphael caught Gabriel's eye again, looking old and burdened.

“I am so very sorry I left you with them. If I had known it would be like this I would have offered to take you with me. But at the time, all I could see was how they cared only for their inheritance, and you... you were so quiet. If I'd been less self-absorbed, I would have realized how out of character that was for you.”

“I guess we were all out of it,” Gabriel said diplomatically.

“That still doesn't excuse Michael and Luke laying all the blame on you.” Raphael gave Gabriel a look. He'd forgotten how intense his brother's eyes could be. “They're still doing it. Aren't they?”

Gabriel shifted uneasily. “Not in so many words...”

“And yet, you're still cleaning up their messes. I've kept updated on what's going on in the company and it seems the only people who are unaware of how destructive their behavior is are Michael and Luke.” Raphael reached out and touched the back of Gabriel's hand. “Why do you stay with them?”

“Because they're all the family I have left,” Gabriel said, well aware that his voice was unsteady. But Raphael's hand closed around his own in a steady hold and offered a brief squeeze of reassurance.

“Not anymore.”

* * *

And just like that, a million things changed. Gabriel felt almost sick with how everything he thought he knew was turned on its head. In the end it left him feeling even more fucked up than he'd ever felt before, and that was the last push he needed to find himself some help. With Raphael at his back, it became easier to ignore how his mind screamed at him that it was all pointless and would never bring Anna back or make him less guilty. But still, Gabriel would probably never have set foot in a therapist's office ever again, had it not been for Sam.

Every time Gabriel started telling himself that it was all a load of crap and that a goddamn shrink wouldn't change anything, he remembered how Sam had kept the door open for him. Forcibly so. Even as Gabriel was pushing him away, Sam had still reached out. And damn it all, Gabriel so dearly wished he had something to offer in return.

He came home from his first therapy session in over a decade drained but determined. He turned on his cell phone for the first time in days, dialed, and after one ring it was picked up.

“Milton Enterprises, Gabriel Milton's office, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Ava.”

“Oh my God, you're alive! I swear, one more day with your phone off and I would have made the cops break into your apartment! Jesus Christ, Michael and Luke are having complete shit fits all the goddamn time, and do you know who they complain to?! That's right, me! So unless you're calling to tell me you're coming back right the fuck now, or at the very least that you're paying me some serious overtime, then I quit!”

Gabriel blinked, while Ava puffed angry breaths into the phone.

“How would you like a new job instead?”

“You're firing me?!” she shrieked.

“No, I'm offering you a completely different job. One where you'll never have to answer to Michael or Luke ever again.”

“... for real?!”

“Yup. But first I need your help.”

“I'm listening.”

* * *

“Want me to go in with you?” Ava asked, a warm hand carefully on Gabriel's arm as they both hovered outside Michael Milton's office.

“Thanks, but no. This is something I have to do on my own. It's a family matter,” Gabriel said, mentally suiting up for what would no doubt be the biggest showdown of his life. “But I'll probably need you to drag me to a bar afterwards, and pour booze in me until I pass out.”

“Sure, I can do that. In fact, I think it's kinda my job now.”

“Or at least it will be in about ten minutes. Personal Assistant To An Out-Of-Work Bum does have a nice ring to it, doesn't it?”

“Better than Official Booze Fetcher,” she snorted.

With a final sigh, Gabriel squared his shoulders and straightened his back. “If I'm not back in twenty, call the cops. There's at least a 50/50 chance that Michael will kill me.”

“You can do this,” Ava said firmly and pushed him towards the tinted glass doors. He knocked shortly before entering and closing the door firmly behind him.

Ava leaned back against the wall and crossed her arms over her chest, prepared to wait for however long it took. But it was barely five minutes before the door swung open and Gabriel came back out, pale and jittery. He grabbed her elbow and dragged her with him at a fast pace.

“Come on, let's go.”

“O...kay, sure. I know you said you were gonna need a drink, but where's the fire?” she asked, as he pulled her along so fast she had to break into a slow run to keep up.

“Here, in about ten seconds,” he said, out of breath.

“What?”

There was a muffled pop from the office behind them, and then Gabriel started laughing, a hysterical note to it. Ava looked back just before they turned the corner at the end of the corridor, and caught a glimpse of smoke creeping out from under the glass doors.

“You didn't actually just set fire to Michael's office?!” she asked, horrified.

“No!” Gabriel said indignantly. “No, I just gifted his pompous ass with a decades-overdue stink bomb that will make this entire floor smell like rotten eggs in a few minutes, so I strongly suggest you run!”

They made a break for the elevators and as the doors slid shut behind them, Ava couldn't help but laugh as well. “Are you out of your mind?!”

“You know... for the first time in years, I'm starting to think I might not be.

Chapter 12.

“Tulips?”

Gabriel had chosen the coward's path, and hidden himself behind the mountain of flowers, so he couldn't really be sure if the baffled tone of Sam's voice was a good or a bad sign. So he steeled himself for the worst and peeked over the massive amount of colorful petals to find Sam frozen in the process of opening his door, mouth slightly open and staring. Okay, so maybe fifty tulips had been a little over-the-top.

“I wasn't sure if you were serious or not about liking these, but I thought what the hell, flowers always go well with groveling.”

“Oh,” Sam said, and to Gabriel's dismay left it at that. Bones hovered on the doorstep, eager but unsure, and Gabriel didn't want to assume too much and greet the dog until he'd pleaded his case.

“By the way, it's apparently kinda difficult to find tulips in February, who knew,” Gabriel babbled nervously. “But considering I've been, you know, a humongous dickbag, I thought I might as well go all the way and–”

There was a sound like someone choking a squirrel from behind him, and he fell silent as he turned around to find a pair of comically wide eyes staring at him and Sam from the door on the opposite side of the narrow hallway. The eyes belonged to a blonde girl who was literally quivering with what Gabriel hoped was some sort of positive emotion, her face hidden behind her hands. She made another tiny squealing sound, and Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably, while Bones stuck his tail between his legs and fled back into Sam's room.

“Oh... my God,” the girl breathed from behind her hands. “Is that him?!”

Sam made a small noise of distress and pulled Gabriel towards him with a vice-like grip on his elbow. “Yes, yes it is,” he gibbered. “Becky, Gabriel. Gabriel, this is Becky, my other roommate, and excuse us, but we really have to go and... talk.”

With that, he yanked Gabriel inside his room and slammed the door behind them. He went so far as to lock it behind him, making Gabriel raise an eyebrow. “Are you worried the teenage girl will eat you?”

“I wouldn't be surprised,” Sam said grimly. “Becky is scary, you really have no idea.”

Amused, Gabriel leaned closer to the door and said loudly: “If you stick around, there might be some athletic sex happening.” He was a little disturbed by how there was immediately another squeal, followed by a thump.

“Yeah, that would be her ear against my door,” Sam said dejectedly.

“Wow. How can I make her go away?”

“I have no idea. I've never found out how.”

“Would she take a bribe?”

Sam rubbed his forehead. “Unless your currency is in gay romance novels, I doubt it'll do any good.”

“Gay romance? Like what?”

“Why, you have any?” Sam asked dryly, clearly not giving Gabriel's epic negotiation skills enough credit.

“You forget Sammy, I've been in the money making business for over twenty years. It's all about finding out what people want. What does Becky want?”

“As far as I can figure, her goal in life is apparently to get me a boyfriend. Or maybe a signed copy of one Carver Edlund's books.”

“Never heard of him. What does he write?”

“Some cult fantasy series. Something about monster hunting, but all Becky really cares about is getting the two main characters to have sex. Never mind that they're brothers,” Sam shuddered.

“Hmm.” Gabriel pondered for a second before pushing the flowers into Sam's arms and unlocking the door, Becky almost toppling over as the door disappeared where she had been leaning on it.

“Hey, Becky, super nice to meet you and all, but you see, me and Sam need a little privacy. So if you could go somewhere else for like half an hour, I can get you a VIP pass to the cult fiction convention in July, and I will personally ensure that Carver Edlund is there to meet you. Deal?”

Becky made another noise of excitement and spent roughly ten seconds just staring at Gabriel before turning on her heel, leaving the crappy apartment entirely, and Gabriel was pretty sure there was an actual scream on the street outside immediately afterwards. Satisfied with his efforts, Gabriel closed Sam's door behind him and turned with a flourish to give a bow or something, only to still when he saw Sam staring at him, his arms closed laxly around the huge bunch of tulips.

“Uh... sorry, I kinda meant for this all to go a little differently. I would have actually given you the flowers, instead of just... piling them on you. And I confess, when I imagined this, there were fewer fangirls and more making out.”

Sam stared for another long couple of seconds before he broke out laughing, a startled sort of snicker, snowballing into hiccuping guffaws. “Oh, my God,” he gasped brokenly.

Gabriel was completely lost, having no clue what it might mean for Sam to be crumbling with laughter in front of him, so he started babbling again, desperate to do something, anything at all.

“Look, it wasn't meant to go like this! I was gonna give you the flowers and convince you to give this thing we almost had another chance, because I'm really fucking broken, I know, but I'm working on it, I swear! I'm seeing a therapist again, and I left the company for good, so I'm actually a lot less rich now, but since money apparently gives you a rash, I assume this can only be a good thing.”

“Jesus Christ!” Sam cried, now howling with laughter, supporting himself against his wobbly desk with one hand, the tulips slowly slipping to the floor, one arm not enough to keep them together. Gabriel was now thoroughly freaked out.

“Hey, no, it's not like I'm expecting anything! I'm willing to beg on my knees if that's what you want, but if you don't want anything to do with me, then just say the word and I'm gone. But Chewie really misses you and I miss you and I don't know what I'm gonna do if you kick me out–”

“Oh, for the love of god, stop talking!” Sam yelled between barks of laughter, letting the remaining tulips follow the others to the floor. Gabriel snapped his mouth shut, but his anxious energy had to go somewhere, so he bounced on the balls of his feet at a rapid pace until Sam shook his head and pulled him into a tight hug, muffling his laughter in Gabriel's neck. Cautiously, Gabriel wound his arms around Sam's waist and hugged back.

When Sam's laughter finally started trailing off, Gabriel asked quietly: “Is this a good thing? I mean... do you need a padded room or something?”

“Shut up,” Sam mumbled against the skin under Gabriel's ear, the sensation making him shiver, feeling slightly guilty for enjoying it so much when he still had no idea what it all might mean.

Then Sam pulled away slightly, cradled Gabriel's face in his warm hands and kissed him. After that, nothing really mattered, least of all the tulips slowly being mashed into the carpet by Gabriel's boots.

“How did you even know about the convention in July?” Sam murmured against Gabriel's lips many, many kisses later.

“I didn't. But if there isn't one, I'll damn well arrange one myself.”

This made Sam laugh again, but this time Gabriel laughed along with him, stealing the smiles right off Sam's lips.

Epilogue:

“So, how's the convention coming along?” Sam asked from the kitchen, as Gabriel dragged himself through the door.

“Well, Ava told me again today that I'm insane for putting together a convention for something I know nothing about with only four months to do it,” he groaned and kicked off his boots. “The good news is that, as it turns out, Cas is apparently something of a connoisseur of obscure literature and he said he'd help out.”

Gabriel shuffled tiredly into his kitchen and sighed happily when he saw that Sam was cooking for him again. He went over and slid his arms around Sam from behind, leaning his tired head against Sam's back. As exhausted as he was, he still got that same swooping feeling in his gut every time he did this. Just because he could and because he knew Sam welcomed it.

He was rewarded with a brief slide of Sam's palm across his arm, before he went back to stirring his pot. “What's cookin', good lookin'?”

“Are you gonna say that every night?”

“If you keep cooking for me, yeah, probably.”

Sam snorted and put the lid on the pot, before turning around in Gabriel's arms. “It's the least I can do, since you're apparently too noble to just tell Becky you lied.”

“Don't go spreading that around. No, I mean it, if Balthazar finds out, I'll never hear the end of it,” Gabriel whined. “As long as he keeps thinking I'm just having a mid-life crisis, I can at least avoid the mocking.”

“Then I guess it's totally off limits to tell him why you even made such a crazy promise in the first place, huh?”

“Totally and utterly.”

“I still think it's sweet, though, devoting so much of your time and money, just for half an hour of privacy. Insane, but sweet.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile. And no doubt it was the dopey one that always appeared when Sam gave him any kind of compliment. “Yeah well... it was worth it.” He hurried on before Sam could comment and reduce him to an even more lovesick fool. It never did take much. “Besides, it's not like I had better things to do. I admit that dodging Michael's wrath does take some effort, but it's hardly a full time job to flip someone the bird a couple of times a day.”

Sam's eyes were serious. “Please tell me you didn't just leave the company because I thought it would be a good idea?”

Gabriel hugged him tighter and reached up for a quick, reassuring kiss. “Nah, don't worry. I never even wanted to join in the first place. I was just too much of a coward to say no to Michael and Luke. But having you and Raphael in my corner helps me keep the hounds at bay.” He snickered. “Although, I admit that the stink bomb probably just made things worse for me. But damn, it was too good to resist.”

“What did you plan on doing then, after quitting?”

Sam's question made Gabriel squirm, because while he hadn't been actively planning to quit, he'd always had certain measures in place.

“Well... please don't spread this around either, but... I sorta fiddled around with some things in the company here and there, just to have a few things tucked away for a rainy day.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Like... a couple of small factories we were hired to either optimize or shut down... I kinda... bought them.”

“You own your own business?” Sam said, surprised.

“Plural.”

“How many?”

“Uh...” Gabriel shifted. “Five. But they're small, mostly producing stuff like cookies and pretzels.” Sam gave him a wide-eyed look. “One of them makes ice cream, Sam. I couldn't lay off people who make ice cream! That's like... firing a priest or something. I just couldn't do it.”

Still staring, Sam opened and closed his mouth silently a few times before words came out. “So... you were gonna run those businesses?”

“Well, technically I was gonna have Ava run the day-to-day stuff. She's way too highly educated to be working as a secretary or assistant. But I haven't actually offered her the job yet. I figured we'd get this convention over with and then maybe I'd look at giving those factories some attention. They do okay on their own, but they could do a lot better with a little effort.”

“Then what were you gonna be doing?”

“I... please don't laugh?”

“If you tell me your plan is to join a trapeze act, I can't make any promises.”

“Nope. Although, my ass does look good in spandex.”

“You do know that I won't just take your word for that, right?” Sam leered.

“Ooh, kinky,” Gabriel said, giving Sam's neck a playful little bite before turning serious again. “No, I was actually thinking of going back to school. Maybe some night classes at first, just to find out what I like to do.”

“That sounds great!” Sam seemed sincerely happy for him, and Gabriel hardly knew what to do with himself in the face of it. “Any idea what you wanna try?”

“I was thinking maybe... something related to the businesses. Like cooking classes. Can't optimize a cookie factory if I have no clue how cookies are even made.”

“Awesome,” Sam sighed and pulled Gabriel in tighter, tucking him under his chin. “I can't wait to taste your homework.”

“Wow, that sounds disturbing. I now have a freaky mental image of you eating a cook book...”

For that, Sam slapped him on the ass and made him set the table. As he set down plates and cutlery, Gabriel reflected on his life. Perhaps running away wasn't such a bad thing when he had something to run towards.

Something like this.

The End.