Sometimes They Run 4/12

[ladydrace]

Title: Sometimes They Run.
Part: 4/12
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.

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.

<<<Back to Chapter 3. Onwards to Chapter 5.>>>