Word count: 636
Spoilers: None really, although it helps if you know who Gabriel is.
Warnings: 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 . Thank you!
Notes: Human AU. Part of the Dog Walker 'verse. Link to masterpost.
Summary: Some pondering from Sam after moving in with Gabriel.
Read below or on AO3.
Sometimes it still struck Sam how amazing it was that he was actually living there. That his name was on the door now. That the doggy bed Gabriel had bought for Bones now had its own place in the kitchen, and that Sam no longer had to trek back to his crummy, shared apartment for changes of clothes or toiletries. Not that he'd ever really needed the latter, since Gabriel could evidently keep a small drug store in business with his bulk purchase of toothbrushes alone. Not to mention the dental floss.
And that was another thing that made Sam smile. That he knew the reason behind more and more of Gabriel's most personal habits every day. The tooth thing dated back to Gabriel's pre-teens where he'd foolishly declared to the family dentist just how much sugar he actually ingested on a daily basis, and the man had nearly had a nervous breakdown. Little Gabriel had been so concerned for the poor guy that he'd sworn hand on heart to take the best possible care of his teeth. And he had, obsessively brushing and flossing, until one day it just became a habit, as impossible to change as any of his other personal quirks.
Like the fact that he didn't really care about breakfast in the mornings, but insisted on dragging Sam out for a full brunch on the rare days when they could both sleep in, and Sam would really rather stay in bed and have sex all day.
Or how Gabriel would still balk at simple cooking tasks like boiling eggs, even though he'd long since learned how, but would happily make chocolate chip pancakes at two AM just because he woke up peckish. Sam wasn't at all shocked when the first recipes Gabriel learned by heart were the ones flirting with diabetes.
And now Sam was part of those quirks, his own overlapping and merging, new patterns forming between them. Sam would do his stomach crunches every morning on the soft carpet in the bedroom, while Gabriel would sip his heavily sugared coffee and watch, lust beaming from his eyes. Gabriel would shower and go through his regimen of dental care alone, occasionally insecure about his anal-retentive hygiene habits. Sam accepted this, and took it upon himself to walk the dogs in the early morning when he was always the more awake one anyway.
On the other hand, Sam would fall asleep on the couch far too often, legal texts lulling him to sleep easily with the aid of warm dogs at his side and Gabriel's feet in his lap. And every time, Gabriel would walk Chewie and Bones, come back smelling of fresh night air, and gently coax Sam awake enough to be able to put himself to bed, but somehow not waking him up so much that he would have trouble falling back asleep.
It was all so incredibly domestic. And while it was something Sam hadn't ever really dared to hope for, half convinced that the bad example set by his own family would somehow sour his own chances at happiness, he still had to stop sometimes and just breathe, because it felt like his chest would burst with how happy he was. And the best part was that Gabriel did the same. Sam had actually walked in on him once, holding one of Sam's shirts fresh from the dryer, a faraway expression on his face, taking in deep gulps of air desperately, but at the same time smiling like he could die at that moment and not regret a single thing.
They were building something together, neither of them really having been prepared for it. But something that made you this happy you just didn't turn your back on. And Sam, for one, was definitely up to the challenge.