Sometimes They Run 5/12

[ladydrace]

Title: Sometimes They Run.
Part: 5/12
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 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.

<<<Back to Chapter 4. Onwards to Chapter 6.>>>