Sometimes They Run 12/12

[ladydrace]

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.

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.

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