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The first time ever I lay with you

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Something feels out of place from the moment Gabriel wakes up, and he has no idea what it is. Sure, he’s a tiny bit overheated, but hey, it’s September. That’s not totally abnormal, right? And okay, he’s feeling a tiny bit sick, but considering how much candy he gets through, that’s not exactly unusual either.

He figures ignoring it is the best route and proceeds to do just that, all through showering, getting dressed, doing his hair and makeup and everything else. Breakfast, normal. Ruffling Cas’ hair as he drops him off, normal. Bitching at Dean at their lockers, normal.

It’s only in the middle of a class on The Cherry Orchard when it hits him, along with a sudden wave of heat.

Well.

Fuck.

His exit is a little undignified, but quick; he grabs his things, half-runs for the door, and by the time the teacher can open her mouth to say anything he’s out in the hallway. His first instinct is to hide out in the bathroom, but if he’s right about what’s going on- and he’s pretty sure he is- his scent’s probably gonna make him pretty easy to find before long, and he really doesn’t like the idea of being cornered in there by someone.

Homeward bound, then, and while he’s feeling far from great, he’s pretty sure he can at least concentrate enough for the drive back. The already-incessant buzzing of his phone’s starting to irritate him though, and so he turns it off and chucks it at the passenger’s seat until he gets home.

-

Received at 14:36, 23/09/12, from: Castiel

Crowley told me about what happened. Are you alright?

Sent at 14:59, 23/09/12, to: Castiel

fine, but youre gonna have to get a lift home with dean.

Received at 14:36, 23/09/12, from: Castiel

Why’s that? Are you sure you’re okay?

He doesn’t bother replying to that.

In other news, apparently suppressants don’t work if you only start taking them after you’ve gone into heat. Who knew? This medical shortcoming leaves Gabriel huddled on his bed, stark naked and glaring at his laptop like it’s all its fault- which, he reasons, a tiny bit of the current situation is. He’d had some hope that things would improve before he checked online, after all, and if that makes no sense outside of his heat-addled brain, he really can’t bring himself to give a fuck.

Mercifully, Cas doesn’t decide to bother him any further, and when the clock ticks past five he figures the little nerd took his advice. If he were feeling any better he’d never let the kid spend more than an hour at the Winchester’s place without sending both him and Dean endless texts designed to spoil anything even approaching an amorous mood, but his brain doesn’t seem capable of doing anything more than try slaking his heat. And even that isn’t fucking working because he couldn’t get to a fucking shower because Michael’s in the house and Gabriel really, really doesn’t want his oldest brother seeing him like this, so he’s reduced to trying to take things down a notch by getting himself off, filling himself up with fingers, but it isn’t enough, and fuck his life, seriously. This shit’s meant to last up to three fucking days.

He honestly doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

And so, because the world hates Gabriel, that’s the point when the doorbell rang. Not that he pays it too much attention to begin with- he’s too busy using his extensive vocabulary of swear words and curses he’d found particularly funny when browsing online when he was bored to rail at life, the universe, and every god in existence (or not).

But he definitely pays attention when whoever it was came up the stairs and stood outside his door, because they smell really fucking amazing, and he’d never got what people were talking about when they went on about the scent of an alpha before, he’d railed against stupid soppy passages in love stories about it, but fuck if he’s not a total convert now.

“Gabriel?”

...well, shit. Gabriel presses his face into his pillow, wrapping his arms around himself and trapping his hands in the space between his arms and his sides as though that’ll magically make his fingers something other than pruny and stinking of his own mess.

It doesn’t work. Obviously.

“Gabriel, are you okay?”

“M’fine.”

“You sure? It’s just- you haven’t been answering my calls, or Cas’, and we’re getting kinda worried.”

“I’m fine,” Gabriel snaps, sitting up a little to make his voice clearer, which is kinda hard to do when you’re curled in on yourself. The vague sick feeling from earlier has developed into a nagging, almost clawing feeling in his gut, and he really doesn’t understand how this made it through the evolutionary process, because why the fuck does it make sense to have the people who can have kids in so much pain it’s hard to stand up straight every so often?

“You don’t sound it.” There’s the sound of creaking floorboards as Sam shifts his weight. “Need me to get you anything?”

Gabriel bites his lip. This... Sam’s an alpha, sure, but Gabriel’s going to need food. And painkillers. Like fuck is he going to ask Michael for them, and Cas isn’t around, so... “Some ice cream would be good.”

“Okay. Okay, I can... do that. I think.”

His footsteps retreat beyond Gabriel’s hearing, but he doesn’t bother shouting directions after him. Sam’s been in there often enough when Gabriel’s been cooking or baking, he should be able to find everything. And find it he does- Gabriel hears him almost run back with the stuff- but there’s a small problem that only becomes obvious when he opens the door and walks in, because of course Gabriel didn’t think about how Sam’s going to get the food to him when he’s in bed, in heat, and naked as the day he was born.

The squeak he makes as he dives under the covers is totally warranted, okay.

“Oh, I- shit. Sorry.” Sam steps from foot to foot. He looks more than a little awkward when Gabriel peeks out from beneath the covers, and his voice sounds distinctly strained. “I didn’t realise you were, um.”

“No, it’s- it’s fine.” Except it’s not really, because he and Sam have only been dating for a few weeks, and it’s been awesome, it really has, except they’d been taking it slow, just the odd kiss here and there, and it’d been awesome, and he really doesn’t want this heat shit to cause more problems than it already has. He clears his throat, drawing the duvet around him up to his shoulders and reaching an arm out for the ice cream which Sam obligingly hands over. The cold is a relief, if a short-lived one, and he’s so focused on it he barely notices the way Sam’s breathing’s picked up until he looks up at him, and the ‘thankyou’ he was about to say gets a little stuck in his throat.

Sam’s still shuffling uncomfortably, but his pupils are near-black, and Gabriel’s suspicions that he’s proportional are well on their way to being confirmed by the bulge in his jeans.

Fuck, he wants him. Now. He doesn’t care that it’s a really fucking stupid idea, that he’s fucking fertile now and sex in this state would be potentially risky, he wants Sam in his bed, in him, so badly it’s like the thought alone is making his heat flare. Which it might be, he doesn’t know.

“Gabe?”

Has he been staring? He thinks he has. But what the fuck. Gabriel sets the ice cream down on his bedside table and reaches out for Sam. There’s a moment’s stillness, a split second for Gabriel to worry that he’s fucking everything up, to expect that Sam’s going to cut and run right the fuck now and how that might even be a good idea, but then Sam’s taking his hand and moving to kneel on the mattress in front of him, and the sheer relief that rushes through Gabriel is ridiculous. He’s blaming the hormones.

“I think...” Gabriel swallows. “I mean, I know this is kinda soon, but...”

“I get it.” Sam runs a hand through Gabriel’s hair, and he finds himself leaning into the touch with an almost embarrassingly needy sound. “I just- are you sure about this?”

“Are you?” Gabriel looks him in the eye. They both know what could happen here, after all. “I mean, I don’t have anything for protection, and I know we said we were gonna-”

“Ssh.” Sam leans in and kisses him. “I’m okay with it, with everything, if you are.”

Well, in that case it’s simple, isn’t it? Gabriel tugs him closer, wrapping his arms around his neck as he kisses him again, harder this time, with an annoyed whine when the blankets get in the way of his attempts to wrap his legs around Sam’s waist. And their teeth are clacking together and their noses are bumping every so often and what little lipstick he has on is probably smeared all over the place, but Gabriel doesn’t give a fuck and apparently Sam doesn’t either, going by the enthusiasm with which he’s kissing him, and then with which he starts on his neck, kissing along his jaw and round and down to Gabriel’s collarbone, nipping and sucking at the skin until Gabriel is left a writhing mess beneath him, bucking his hips up and whimpering at the lack of skin contact.

Time to fix that, he thinks. Sam’s pretty huge, but his waist’s still within reach and Gabriel wastes no time in tugging his shirt up (sparing a brief moment to be grateful that his boyfriend has a predilection for awful shirts rather than Dean’s one for apparently endless layers of them) and over his head. And okay, it gets a little tricky there; Sam fumbles for balance while he’s getting it off until he eventually rolls off Gabriel and sets about pulling all his clothes off himself, leaving Gabriel to whimper at the lack of weight and body heat, fighting the urge to grab him and pull him back.

Well. Sam starts getting his clothes off, at least, and he does get his shirt and pants off- the sight is fucking glorious- but when he reaches his boxers he pauses for a moment, staring down like he’s only just realised what they’re doing and he’s not sure he likes it.

“Hey,” Gabriel murmurs, reaching out for him before snatching his hand back. If he doesn’t want this, Gabriel doesn’t want to push things, or do anything that might risk it, even if his body’s screaming at him to just jump his bones already. “You okay?”

Sam’s nod is slow. “Yeah. I just...” He bites his lip, his head hanging down. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“What, Dean never gave you the birds and bees talk?” Okay, apparently reminding Sam that this could end with Gabriel getting pregnant was a bad idea, going by the way the kid just froze. Gabriel winces. “Look. If you want to just... go, that’s fine. I won’t- I mean, I’m good.”

Which is a barefaced lie, but hey, if it keeps Sam happy, then he’ll go with it. And he’s fully expecting him to until he shakes his head. “No, I want this. I just, uh. Yeah.” He glances over at Gabriel with the most adorable fucking expression, and how he manages to look cute when he’s flushed and mostly naked and hard as anything by the looks of it, but he does, and Gabriel is this close to kissing his stupid fucking face.

So he does, pushing himself up out of his cocoon of duvet and into Sam’s lap, winding his hands into his hair as he grinds down against him. “You think too much, kiddo.”

Sam grins even as a movement of Gabriel’s hips causes him to gasp. “One of us has to.”

“Who says I’m not thinking?” Gabriel smirks and kisses him again, feeling the fabric of Sam’s boxers drag against his balls and cock and ass (and yep, definitely proportional- Gabriel might even be a little worried about having something that’s that big even before it knots inside him if he were thinking straight) in a way that he could definitely get used to, even if he’d much rather it was just skin there already. “’S just that you’re thinking of boring stuff, and I’m thinking of what it’ll be like when you fuck me.”

That earns Gabriel a whimper and before he can say anything more Sam’s thrusting up against him in a way that has him shuddering and moaning, and going back to doing that awesome stuff at his neck again. Gabriel’s pretty sure his slick’s soaking those boxers at this point, but he cares about that roughly as much as he cares about the idea that Michael might be able to hear the way the mattress is creaking beneath them (which is to say, he doesn’t), because fuck yes.

One problem remains, though: “Too many clothes.”

Sam laughs against his neck. “Can’t have that now, can we?”

“Nope,” Gabriel agrees, and his voice isn’t breathy at all, what are you talking about. He shuffles a little way back, reaching for Sam’s boxers but pausing with his fingers skimming just above the fabric. “May I?”

“Knock yourself out.”

There’s the slightest edge of nervousness in Sam’s voice, but he leans back on his elbows and lifts his hips for Gabriel all the same. And if he thinks Gabriel’s going to be disappointed or scornful or whatever at the sight he finds when he pulls the fucking things off, well. He’s got another thought coming, because Gabriel? Has landed himself a fucking god. Not that he didn’t already know Sam was gorgeous, but seeing him like this is... well. It’s honestly kind of a privilege.

“Gabriel?”

“What?” Oh, right. Staring again. He’ll just have to get on with something a little more productive, like wrapping his fingers around Sam’s cock in a grip that, even loose as it is, is enough to get him bucking up into Gabriel’s hand with a moan. Which is promising, given that Gabriel’s never given anyone else a handjob before. If the lightest touches can get him like this, he figures he’ll have some room to make mistakes. Maybe.

Either way, the time for experimenting with that will come later. Hopefully. Assuming Sam doesn’t freak out during or after this. But Gabriel’s trying not to think of that possibility as he tugs his boyfriend up towards him until their positions are reversed, with Gabriel the one who’s against the mattress, and this time there’s nothing to stop him from wrapping his legs around Sam and using them to draw him in close. He realises a moment later that tugging him in so hard probably wasn’t a great idea, but hey. He didn’t need to breathe anyway. Much.

“Sorry, sorry,” Sam gasps, fumbling to push himself back up, but Gabriel’s having none of that.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Anyway, you’ve got- nnh!- better things to do than apologise.”

Sam blinks at him. “Like what?”

“Like fuck me already, doofus.”

Gabriel can almost hear the gears in Sam’s brain grinding to a halt. “I... you mean it?”

“Yes,” Gabriel says, and the word’s almost a hiss. “Please.”

“Alright.” Sam blinks down at him and raises a hand. “Alright. Do I need to-?”

“What do you think I was doing before you showed up?” Okay, it’s been a little while since then, but Gabriel’s pretty sure he’s ready. And he definitely doesn’t want to wait any longer than he’s already had to; quite apart from his body’s desperation for it, now that he’s here and on his back and they’re both naked, he’s starting to feel just the tiniest bit worried. Vulnerable, even, despite the fact that he’s with the most ridiculously sweet, gentle guy he knows. “I’m fine. Go for it.”

Sam stares at him a little longer, like he’s trying to make sure Gabriel’s really serious, before he nods and pulls back a little, lifting Gabriel’s legs up over his shoulders, which takes a few moments and almost results in Gabriel kicking him in the arm at one point when their cocks brush again and he jerks, before he reaches between them to grasp his cock and slowly, achingly slowly, presses it against Gabriel’s hole and pushes just the tiniest way inside.

And for all that Gabriel’s a little tighter now than he was before, he still wants to pick up the pace, still wants this faster, but if Sam wants to be slow and careful, he can cope with that too. He thinks. He keeps his hips resolutely still, fisting his hands in the duvet beneath him as Sam does these tiny thrusts that take him forward and into Gabriel what feels like a minute amount at a time, watching him carefully all the way.

Encouragement is needed, he thinks, and so he whimpers and gasps swear words and ‘yes yes fuck yes Sammy’ again and again and again, and clutches at whatever parts of Sam he can reach, which isn’t much. But if it works, the difference isn’t much, and so he waits until Sam’s cock is wholly inside him and he’s getting used to the feel of having something that’s not his own fingers up there (it’s a really fucking amazing feeling, just different), and Sam’s staring at him like he’s just found something infinitely precious.

He might be a tiny bit cross-eyed with pleasure, too. Gabriel can’t really tell. Just smirks, and moves his hips a little. “That the best you’ve got?”

Sam huffs a laugh at that, but he thrusts properly this time, if still a little hesitantly, and moves to wrap a hand around Gabriel’s cock as he does it in a way that has him arching his back and moaning in earnest, because Sam’s hand is callused in a way that Gabriel’s will probably never be and it feels so so good, especially paired with the intense feeling of fullness, of being stretched around him that gets stronger still as Sam’s cock starts to swell at the base.

Sam looks almost surprised by that, actually, which is kind of adorable. “What is it? Never had a knot before?”

“No, I just-” Sam bites his lip and thrusts again, sharper this time, wrenching a noise that’s almost a squeak from Gabriel. “Fuck. Sorry. I just... you’re so tight, Gabe.”

“Only the best for you, kiddo.” Even if he has stopped thrusting now, which Gabriel isn’t exactly pleased with. “Seriously, Sam, I’m good. Now hurry up and fuck me properly.”

Sam hesitates briefly, then nods almost to himself. “Okay then,” he says, leaning over to kiss Gabriel and bending him double in the process, which isn’t exactly comfortable, but then he starts up again, and speeds up, and ow, okay, this is not exactly what he was after. Sam’s grip on his cock has been abandoned for the sake of the angle they’re at, and Gabriel wouldn’t mind except that angle’s making it kinda hard to breathe properly. All he can really do is lie back and clutch at Sam, whose head is pressed against the crook of his neck, and wait. His heat should slake off after Sam comes, right?  They can take it slower after that.

He doesn’t have long to wait on that count: Sam lasts only a minute or so more before a whimper is muffled against Gabriel’s neck, there’s a last thrust, and Gabriel gets to add ‘having someone come inside him’ to the list of new things that have happened today. Sure enough, his heat does ebb in its wake, but given he’s still folded in an awkward way and he’s got a huge, heavily-breathing body weighing down on him, the relief is kinda minimal. When Sam finally lifts himself a bit, that’s when Gabriel gets to breathe easier.

“That okay for you?”

“Yeah.” Sam blinks slowly, like he’s been stunned. “Yeah, it was... It was great. How about- what was it like for you?”

“Good,” Gabriel tells him. “It was good.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

Sam pushes himself back up on his hands, and Gabriel winces as the simultaneous shift of his legs makes his cock tug at Gabriel’s entrance, though it turns out it’s not his own cock Sam’s worried about. “You sure about that? ‘Cause it doesn’t look much like it.”

Gabriel follows Sam’s gaze- he really isn’t looking that all interested down there, is he?-  and shrugs. “You had fun. I’m good.” Which is only half a lie, really. His heat’s gone, and he figures the sex can only get better from here. Hopefully. At any rate, he doesn’t want to get Sam upset about it.

“No, that’s not... I mean, that’s not how it’s meant to go.” Sam’s voice is a little higher than normal- apparently the attempt to keep him calm isn’t working that well. But his hand, when it strokes across Gabriel’s cheek, is steady and warm, and Gabriel finds himself turning towards the touch. “I want you to enjoy it too.”

Ever the sweetheart. Gabriel smiles. “Well then,” he says. “You’re not getting out of me any time soon. What’s it meant to be for a first time, half an hour? More? Plenty of time for you to figure out how to put your knot to good use, right?”

“I guess...” Sam doesn’t look convinced, but Gabriel decides to think of it as a start. It’s that or give up on the half-formed plans he’s got- though really, he feels kinda stupid about the first part of them.

“That’s the spirit. Now, hand.”

Sam blinks at him. “What?”

“Give me your hand.”

Hah, he looks almost suspicious now. It’s adorable. “Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Sam still doesn’t look convinced, but he holds out his hand anyway, and Gabriel tries to forget how much of a stupid, potentially embarrassing idea this part is. There are far easier ways to get one of their hands slicked up, but he’s chosen this one, and he’s not backing down now;  carefully, not quite meeting Sam’s eye, he curls a hand around his, brings it to his mouth and licks a stripe up his palm before taking his middle fingertip into his mouth and sucking.

Oral fixation? Gabriel? Never.

There’s an audible hitch of breath when he swirls his tongue around the fingertip, and he finally looks up to see Sam staring at him much like he did when he first realised Gabriel was in heat, all flushed skin and dilated irises. It’s encouraging, and not a little gratifying, and so he sucks harder, taking the finger further into his mouth before pulling off it and tonguing briefly at the skin between his fingers before he starts on the index one.

“Gabriel...” Sam sounds wrecked. It’s a good sound. “Oh, fuck.”

If his mouth weren’t otherwise occupied, Gabriel would ask him if he wanted this elsewhere later- somewhere rather lower down on his body- but instead he contents himself with suggesting it with the movements of his lips and tongue as they drag and dot and press against Sam’s skin, and hey, he’s not hearing any complaints. He traces life lines, wealth lines (at least, he thinks that’s what they are- he hasn’t got a fucking clue about any of that stuff), all down to the thinness of the skin over the veins at his wrists, which gets him a shiver when he kisses it.

But it’s his palm that needs his attention most right now, so Gabriel just makes a note of that response before he returns to it, slicking it up with spit in a way that hopefully looks sexy and enticing rather than just sloppy. It doesn’t look like Sam cares either way though- he’s staring, wide-eyed, breath hitching more often than not.

Gabriel could get used to this state of affairs, but right now he’d rather have a little more physical attention. He gives Sam’s hand a final lick before pushing it gently downwards until his boyfriend gets the hint and wraps it around his cock. “Yeah,” Gabriel murmurs, bucking up a little and relishing the whimper that the movement wrenches from Sam. “Go on. You know what to do, right?”

“I- yeah.” Sam swallows. “I think.”

It’s not exactly encouraging, but Gabriel can work with that. He opens his mouth to give him some ideas to start with, but then Sam strokes his hand along Gabriel’s cock in a long, slow drag and he figures, okay, maybe he won’t be needing any hints.

Well, he decides after a few minutes of being jerked off that do wonders for his arousal but little for his heat, no more than one. “C’mon, Sam. Fuck me.”

Sam’s hips stutter forwards before he can formulate a response. “You sure?”

“You think I’d- ah!” It’s amazing, it really is, how Sam’s managed to find so many of Gabriel’s more sensitive spots already. “-ask if I wasn’t?”

That seems to get through to him. That, and the way Gabriel hooks his legs over Sam’s back and uses that as leverage to fuck himself down onto his cock. That helps too. A moment later Sam’s thrusting into him again, his knot tugging at Gabriel’s hole every time he pulls back, his hand fumbling with Gabriel’s cock. It isn’t quite as good a handjob as he was getting before- a little more frantic and a lot less precise- but he’s fine with that, more than fine, because the combination of that and the fucking is enough to have him gasping, his breath hitching on the intake and coming out as a something like a whimper.

The spit on Sam’s hand starts to dry after a little while, though, and Gabriel’s about to say something about it when Sam pulls his legs higher and wider apart with one hand and reaches the other down between them to swipe a finger through the mess of slick around his ass. Gabriel whimpers, and Sam looks up, looking almost calculating, and does it again, a press and drag of fingers against Gabriel’s ass cheek, then around his hole where it’s stretched out around his knot. Gabriel’s whimpers get that much louder; he’d fingered himself before on occasion, but he’d never known the whole area could be quite so sensitive. “Fuck, Sam...”

“Already am.” Sam looks inordinately pleased with himself for the joke. Gabriel groans.

“That’s terrible, but-” Sam presses down hard at the skin between his balls and his hole, timing it to coincide almost perfectly with one of his thrusts, and the jolt of pleasure sends Gabriel’s back arching. “-fuck, keep doing that.”

“What, this?” He does it again, this time with his free hand grasping Gabriel’s cock and for a brief moment he thinks he’s going to come on the spot. He can’t even manage a coherent reply, just a whimper followed by a louder moan, but Sam seems to get the idea. The thing becomes more regular, though a little less coordinated as Sam fucks him that much faster- fuck if he’s complaining about that though- and babbles at him breathlessly, filling in the gaps between the noises Gabriel’s reduced to. “Fuck. Fuck, look at you, so gorgeous, feel so hot and tight and wet, fuck, Gabe.”

And, okay, now he’s coming. He gives a shuddering gasp, clawing at the sheets, pressing his head into the pillows as his whole body locks up, trembling minutely. His stomach’s a slick mess now, sweat and come all mixed up together, and it’s only a few moments before a choked cry announces the fact that Sam’s followed him over the edge. Gabriel just lies there, gasping for breath as he’s filled that much more. It’s a weird feeling, but he thinks he could grow to like it. Maybe. He definitely likes the way it staves off his heat, at least.

“Was... was that okay?”

Gabriel manages a bit of a smirk on his next inhale. “Are you kidding me? That was awesome.”

Sam almost beams at him. “Good. I’m glad.”

He’s adorable. Fuck the idea everyone else seems to have about Alphas having to be douches who think with their dicks- Sam’s living proof they can be better than that, and Gabriel loves it. Loves that he’s his, and the love and devotion and sheer safety that brings. He reaches up to tangle his hands in Sam’s slightly damp hair and pull him down for a kiss. “C’mere, you.”

Sam goes easily enough, though Gabriel finds himself bent almost double again as he does. The kiss is worth it, though. Sam starts things out almost as chaste as he would if they were on a study date of some kind rather than tangled up in sheets after having just fucked for the first time.

Like he said, adorable. But not for too long. Gabriel nips at Sam’s lower lip, tugging on it briefly with his teeth, and Sam makes this needy little whimpering sound before kissing Gabriel all the harder for it, hard and open-mouthed. Gabriel lets his hands wander, tracing down the lines of Sam’s neck and chest and back, sometimes using fingertips, sometimes the lightest brush of fingernails. Sam seems to like that, going by the way he shudders at it- especially on his back- so he concentrates on that, still mixing the two touches, if only to make things a little less predictable. He gets a bite at his neck for his trouble, and it’s just the wrong side of painful but Sam kisses it afterwards until the pain  becomes something more pleasant, and Gabriel bares his neck for more.

What he’s not expecting is for Sam to pull back.

“Gabe, I- do you... are you sure?”

“What?” Gabriel had been pretty sure he was enjoying that, but- “Oh.” Marking. That was meant to be kinda long-term, wasn’t it? If not permanent. Not usually something you did  while you were still in high school. “I, uh.”

“...right.” Sam nods like Gabriel’s said something intelligible. “Maybe not just yet?”

“Perhaps not.” Not that he’d mind, per se. He just... yeah. It might be a little too soon. And Dean might kill him for it, too.

And he is determinedly not thinking about Sam’s brother right now.

There’s a short, awkward silence before Sam nods. “So no biting then.”

“No.” Gabriel thinks things over for a moment, then smirks. “At least, not by you.” And with that, he pulls Sam down again, kissing him hard before mouthing down along his jaw to his neck. Sam doesn’t seem too upset by this idea, so he takes that as agreement and bites down, just ever so lightly, at the side, at a point where he can just about feel Sam’s pulse through the skin. He’s rewarded with a gasp and a twitch of Sam’s hips, and he smirks against his skin. “Like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Gabriel kisses the bite, like Sam did to his, and nips the skin again. He’s almost tempted to lick it, but he feels a bit self-conscious about the idea; biting works well enough for now, he thinks. Sam’s still trembling a bit, and he tightens his legs around him. “Go on. Move. I’ve got you.”

And Sam does, but he doesn’t just start thrusting again, he starts the whole stroking thing up, too. Then, when Gabriel’s gasping and moaning enough to be distracted he sits up a little, still jacking Gabriel off but bringing his other hand up to his mouth and licking at it, and Jesus Christ that’s hot. Gabriel whimpers at the sight, and Sam quirks his lip a little amusedly.

“What? You did it to me, I’m just- nnh- returning the favor.”

And making it so that Gabriel’s imagining his mouth in other places, too, but he doubts he needs to tell him as much- it’s probably kinda obvious.

Fuck, how is he this turned on already?

Sam sucks the last of his slick off his fingers, and Gabriel’s pretty sure he’s breathing that much heavier than he was before (not that his breathing was exactly regular then, either). He leans in then, his hand pressed against the mattress to keep him from pressing down too heavily on Gabriel as he kisses him, and it should not be this hot to taste yourself, even if it is second hand.

“Want to taste you properly next time,” Sam tells him, his breath hot against Gabriel’s cheek. “Can I?”

If he’s talking about what Gabriel’s thinking he’s talking about, then fuck. “Yes,” he breathes. The images alone are enough to have him writhing in a weird kind of anticipation, already imagining the feel of Sam’s tongue at his hole, licking around, pressing in, opening Gabriel up for him. Gabriel would be on his front and Sam would hold him down when he tried to move, and- “Shit...”

Sam fucks into him again, apparently pleased by that reaction, and Christ, Gabriel is so fucking wet right now he can’t. He clutches at Sam’s back, digging his nails in a bit as he tries to anchor himself, because Sam’s thrusting hard enough to make him move up the fucking bed. He gets a little worried he’s going to hit his head for a moment, but Sam sticks his hand out to grip the headboard and hold them steady before he gets too close, faltering in his pace for a few moments before he picks it up again, harder still, and is the bed hitting the wall there? He thinks it might be. The mattress is sure creaking pretty loudly.

Gabriel thinks briefly that Michael is going to kill him for this in the morning, then he decides that that’s enough thinking about anyone’s brother for one day, especially when he’s being fucked like this.

Sam’s grip on his dick gets looser before he lets go of it all together in favour of putting his hand to Gabriel’s side, then the mattress to keep himself upright. It’s okay though- at least this time there’s enough space for him to do the honours himself, and Sam seems to have no problems whatsoever with watching Gabriel jerk himself off beneath him. If anything, he seems to find it hot. “Fuck, Gabe. Shit, you’re so- God!”

“Hah. Not... not quite.”Gabriel’s smirk is lost somewhere in his next moan and he fists his cock a little more frantically, thumbing just beneath the head, twisting a little on the upstroke, any and everything he can think to do because he shouldn’t be this close to coming already but he is and now he’s desperate and “oh fuck...”

Sam gets there first though, his hips stuttering once, twice before he comes with a noise that’s somewhere between a grunt and a whimper, eyes shut tight. He stops for a few moments after that, which Gabriel is none too pleased with, but even before he’s done coming, he bucks forward again, wrapping his hand around Gabriel’s, and it’s not quite the push he needs but a few more thrusts and he’s there. “Fuck! Oh!”

They’re both as out of breath as each other by this point, but when Sam opens his mouth to speak again, Gabriel presses a finger to his lips. “You are not... making that joke... again.”

Sam shakes his head. “Wasn’t gonna,” he says, leaning in to nuzzle against Gabriel’s cheek. “Scout’s- scout’s honour.”

“Good.” Gabriel shifts, loosening his legs’ grip on Sam’s back and feeling the knot shift inside him as he does so. He winces. The sex was amazing, sure, but he’s feeling just the tiniest bit tender now. Kinda exhausted, too. How long is this supposed to last? He thinks he should know, but he can’t remember. Sam moves then, and it’s all he can do not to wince again.

Apparently he doesn’t succeed. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Sam.” Gabriel gives him a Look. “I am. Fine,” he adds quickly, because he doesn’t feel like accidental rhyming just now. Sam doesn’t look convinced, but he settles for stroking a hand through Gabriel’s hair rather than arguing back.

“Okay. You- do you want to stop?”

“Might be an idea, yeah.” Gabriel leans into his touch, but keeps eye contact. “I dunno, are you still...?”

Sam shrugs. “I dunno. Never done this before. I mean, I think I could last another round, but only if you’re okay with it.”

“I’m-”

“No. Be honest, Gabriel. Are you?”

“You-”

“-don’t need to shoot every load I possibly can into an Omega ass, contrary to popular wisdom.” He kisses Gabriel’s cheek, then the corner of his mouth. “If you’ve had enough, then I’d much rather cuddle.”

Gabriel finds himself smiling. He landed the best Alpha boyfriend ever. “Okay then.”

Of course, then there’s the issue of trying to find a position that’s comfortable to lie in whilst still knotted, which involves Gabriel being bent double a couple more times, and wincing quite a few more, before Sam’s finally managed to manoeuvre himself round so he’s lying at Gabriel’s back. After that, there’s the problem of trying to reach for the box of tissues on Gabriel’s bedside table when it’s on the other side of the bed to them, but they eventually manage that one, too (though most of the mess on Gabriel’s front gets accidentally wiped off on the sheets before they ever get to the tissues, but fuck that).

Finally, finally, there’s proper cuddling, with Sam a warm, solid presence at Gabriel’s back, nuzzling against his neck as sleep creeps up on them both.

-

“Sheets.”

Gabriel swats in the direction of the voice that wakes him up, grumbling something incoherent before it registers that the voice is Sam’s. “Wha...?”

“Where are your sheets?”

“Mmn?” Gabriel rubs a hand across his eyes. “Why?”

“No reason, I just assumed you wouldn’t want to spend the rest of the day lying on damp ones.

Uh. Okay. Actually, now that he mentions it, they are kinda messy. Gabriel waves towards the door. “Cupboard out in the hall.”

There’s the lightest pressure against the side of his head as Sam kisses it, then he’s off, heading for the hall, leaving Gabriel to try and find a way to curl up and go back to sleep without landing himself in the wet patch. Before he can manage it though, he finds himself lifted up, and flails for a moment before he realises it’s Sam who’s holding him, and groaning as he hefts him up higher. “Jesus, Gabe, you seriously need to cut down on the candy.”

“What, you don’t like my love handles? I’m hurt, Sammy.”

Sam rolls his eyes as he sets him down on the mess of beanbags in the corner of the room. “Idiot.”

“Mmn,” Gabriel agrees mildly. “Your idiot, though.”

That gets a smile out of Sam. “Good.” He presses his lips to Gabriel’s forehead then, and Gabriel watches as he turns and sets about stripping the bed. His ass looks good in those jeans. Especially when he bends over. Although...

“You’re dressed.”

“Huh?” Sam glances back at him, then huffs a laugh. “Oh. Well, yeah. Obviously.”

“Why are you dressed?” His tone is almost accusing, which prompts another laugh.

“Because I didn’t want your brother looking at me any more murderously than he already was? And, uh,” Sam continues, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small box and throw it in Gabriel’s direction. “I thought I should probably get these, just in case. I mean, you don’t have to take them if you don’t want to, it’s completely your choice, but I figured if you did...”

Gabriel turns the box over in his hands. “The morning-after pill?” Shit, he probably does need it, doesn’t he? Fuck.

“Gabriel?”

“Yeah, I’m just... Do we have any water?”

“Yeah! Actually, no, I’ll just...” Sam grabs an empty, possibly not-entirely-clean glass from the bedside table and flaps his hands for a moment before he moves. “Bathroom.”

He’s adorable. The roiling sense of unease in Gabriel’s stomach quiets a little- he even manages a smile as his boyfriend disappears, and a slightly less shaky one when he comes back with a glass of water. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Sam flashes him a grin that looks put-on before he starts on the fresh sheets. Gabriel swallows down the pill, reading through the notes on the back and determinedly ignoring his doubts. Babies are great, but he doesn’t want one. Not yet. (One day, though, when Sam’s a hotshot lawyer earning shitloads of money, and Gabriel can take all the time he wants to have and raise their kids, tiny things with Sam’s hair and Sam’s brains that’ll grow up to have Sam’s height, too, but that’s a long way off yet, and it’s possibly a little early to be thinking along those lines. Not that that’s ever made a difference to Gabriel’s imagination, but hey. It’s thoughts like that which get him through math without falling asleep.)

“How did you get this, anyway?” He asks eventually. “I thought they didn’t sell them to Alphas.”

“They don’t,” Sam tells him as he tugs the sheets into precise, military-style corners. “Dean owed me a favour.”

Gabriel stares at him. “Wait, Dean’s a...?”

“Yep.” Sam picks him up with about as much ease as he did before, and Gabriel’s a little too busy processing the new information to be surprised at the relative ease with which he handles his weight.

“Wow.” He blinks. “I gotta admit, I did not see that coming.”

“Neither did he until he went into heat. He still likes keeping it under wraps- he’d probably kill me if he found out I told you.”

“Huh.” Gabriel mulls over this new bit of information as Sam sets him down and clambers into bed beside him. “What about... Is he gonna have kids?”

“Probably. I mean, you wouldn’t know unless you saw him with one, but he really loves them. I dunno, you’d have to ask him. Why?”

“No reason. But wouldn’t be kinda obvious if he was the one carrying them?”

Sam shrugs. “Dude, you’re assuming my brother’s thinking ahead here. And thinking straight about it, too.”

Well, he has a point. Gabriel nods in acknowledgement. “Honestly, given how he gets around Cas, I’m surprised he can even walk straight.”

Sam makes a soft, displeased noise into his hair. “Can we please not talk about our brothers while we’re in bed?”

Gabriel grins. “Why, what would you rather discuss?”

“I dunno. Just not them.”

“Alright then.” Gabriel snuggles a little closer to him, hitching a leg up over one of Sam’s. “Did I ever tell you you’re my favourite boyfriend?”

He looks up to see Sam staring at him. “Pretty sure I’m your only boyfriend, actually.”

“That too.”

There’s a hint of a smile on Sam’s face. “Is this your idea of a distraction?”

“Might be.” Gabriel grins at him. “Why, is it working?”

“Hm... I think so.” Sam smiles properly and kisses the top of his head. “Though you might be saying other things about me when the side effects of those pills kick in.”

And he does. Lots of other things, not all of them pleasant. But after the killer headache fades, along with the cramps and everything else, his original sentiment still stands.