I would like to offer a resounding 'awwwwwwwwwwwww'.
For some reason, 'waking-up-together-being-sleepy-and-cuddly-and-grateful-they're-all-alive' seems to be becoming a common OT4 genre. I am totally okay with that. And this is very sweet!
I would like to counter with a snippet I have somewhere that I never actually got around to doing anything with. The only necessary context? Gabriel was in danger somehow. Now he is not.
It was the adrenalin that did it, Dean thought hazily. He shoved forward, fingers grabbing and yanking on instinct, keeping, keeping. His mouth collided, hard and a bit brutal in demand, with the side of Gabriel’s head, the angle of his jaw, his temple. Then Sam rolled and surged up against them both, making Dean’s lips skid to Castiel’s eyelashes, to his nose where it pressed sharp into Gabriel’s cheek. To the loose, hungry seam of their mouths. The adrenalin. Yes. Dean shoved his way in, and it wasn’t hard: they were wide open, devouring and demanding, lips and tongue and teeth, pushing and parting in wet, messy gasps, fervently seared promises. Nothing they weren’t willing to share. Sam’s hands knotted themselves tight in the neck of Dean’s jacket, easy and accessible, and the demand of his body shoved Dean’s thighs wide, pushed him in painfully sharp against the familiar angle of Cas’ hip bone. Dean growled at him, at or all of them, and dragged one hand up to knot hard in Gabriel’s hair, to clamp too hard around the eggshell curve of his skull. “Ours,” he snarled, muffled incoherent into spit and tongue, and, “You ever do something like that to us again, Gabriel, I swear to hell…” Gabriel’s eyes slid wide and startled-bright, and Castiel took hungry advantage of the falter to lock both hands around Gabriel’s face and tip his head back, tip him open, to get more of him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2012-05-19 06:36 am (UTC)For some reason, 'waking-up-together-being-sleepy-and-cuddly-and-grateful-they're-all-alive' seems to be becoming a common OT4 genre. I am totally okay with that. And this is very sweet!
I would like to counter with a snippet I have somewhere that I never actually got around to doing anything with. The only necessary context? Gabriel was in danger somehow. Now he is not.
It was the adrenalin that did it, Dean thought hazily. He shoved forward, fingers grabbing and yanking on instinct, keeping, keeping. His mouth collided, hard and a bit brutal in demand, with the side of Gabriel’s head, the angle of his jaw, his temple. Then Sam rolled and surged up against them both, making Dean’s lips skid to Castiel’s eyelashes, to his nose where it pressed sharp into Gabriel’s cheek. To the loose, hungry seam of their mouths.
The adrenalin. Yes.
Dean shoved his way in, and it wasn’t hard: they were wide open, devouring and demanding, lips and tongue and teeth, pushing and parting in wet, messy gasps, fervently seared promises. Nothing they weren’t willing to share.
Sam’s hands knotted themselves tight in the neck of Dean’s jacket, easy and accessible, and the demand of his body shoved Dean’s thighs wide, pushed him in painfully sharp against the familiar angle of Cas’ hip bone. Dean growled at him, at or all of them, and dragged one hand up to knot hard in Gabriel’s hair, to clamp too hard around the eggshell curve of his skull.
“Ours,” he snarled, muffled incoherent into spit and tongue, and, “You ever do something like that to us again, Gabriel, I swear to hell…”
Gabriel’s eyes slid wide and startled-bright, and Castiel took hungry advantage of the falter to lock both hands around Gabriel’s face and tip his head back, tip him open, to get more of him.