A/N: Written for the fan_flashworks challenge #100: Choices. Is a direct sequel to 'More Than Words'. This version has been edited to comply with this site's content policy. The full version can be read on either LJ or AO3. Also, the formatting will be right there, because apparently I'm not allowed right-aligned, custom-indented paragraphs here. Seriously, read this somewhere else.

Gabriel, in a fit of irony, was kicking back on a cumulus, sipping at a conjured glass of mead, listening to harp music. He needed a bit of a time out from the humans. Or, rather, one human specifically. After their… moment at the diner a week ago, Gabriel had decided to let Sam come to him, so that Sam wasn't left wondering whether there was some kind of mind control at work. To be honest, Gabriel wanted to be sure of that too: he was nigh-omnipotent, and sometimes, things happened without him making a conscious decision. He never chose to read Sam's mind, as a good example; it just kind of happened. Not that he was complaining about what he had seen in Sam's head, mind, but how could either of them be absolutely sure without him giving Sam the chance to clear his mind and decide absolutely for himself exactly what he wanted.

The problem with that decision was that Gabriel had seen Sam's fantasies for himself, and really, really wanted to put the visions into practice. The situation wasn't so desperate that he was beating off to them or anything – he was still an archangel, after all, and had more than sufficient control of his vessel's libido, thank you very much – but he wanted, so very badly. He was craving the chance to be close to another living soul, and that was the very reason he didn't trust himself not to have implanted the suggestion in Sam's head in the first place. Sex was easy: if all he wanted was a warm body, he could easily bed one of his creations. Damn it, he could even make a Sam Winchester if he really wanted to. But, whilst they were alive in every medical sense of the word, the one thing Gabriel could not create was a soul. He couldn't create love.

Realistically, sex with his creations was just elaborate masturbation: he might be able to fool himself for a while that the girls he made were real enough, but when it came down to it, they were no better than sex dolls that he made himself. They might physically be ninety-eight (or thirty-seven, or three hundred and ten, whichever scale the humans were using these days), but they were cold and empty inside, animated only by his grace. There was a certain, non-physical warmth that emanated from a human soul that Gabriel could feel even without reaching beneath the fragile flesh and bones and touching it. That oh-so-human capacity to feel, to love: it was that warmth that Gabriel craved.

His musing was interrupted by the arrival of his baby brother. Now, he was another reason Gabriel had decided to play at being the human version of an angel for a while: the kid was vibrating with happiness inside his borrowed human skin. He had made it to second base with the man he had chosen over Heaven, over their brothers, over immortality itself, and it kind of hurt just to be around him right now. It was sickeningly adorable.

"Gabriel, why have you ceased communication with Sam?"

Gabriel gave him a withering stare and stirred the ice around in his mead needlessly. "Is that why you're here?"

"Sam is concerned," Castiel said. "He believes he has made an error that has driven you away."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Of course he does. That kid has no self-confidence whatsoever."

Castiel tilted his head slightly, assessing Gabriel's reactions, processing everything carefully before speaking. "Neither do you," he said, the absolute certainty in his voice shocking Gabriel so much he pretty much forgot that he should at the very least give his brother a smack for that, if not outright smite him.

"You act with supreme confidence," Castiel continued, his eyes still narrowed, watching. "Your words and your vessel's body language suggest that you have nothing but confidence, but your wings and grace say otherwise. You do not believe in yourself. You do not trust yourself."

"Of course I don't," Gabriel snapped at him. "How can I? I can have anything I want with just a thought, but that doesn't necessarily mean it's real."

The shock of realisation was evident even on Castiel's face – it was one of few human reactions he had. It was the pity that came afterwards that Gabriel couldn't stand: the tattered, ragged silver wings curving towards him in an unconscious need to soothe Gabriel. It was ridiculous: Cassie was a fraction of his size. It would be like a little kid hugging his parent's legs. And he hated the somewhat large part of him that wanted it.

"You know that I am diminished," Castiel said quietly: "I cannot see Sam's mind clearly, but I do not believe that you have influenced him unduly."

"But I could have."

"Yes," Castiel admitted. "And I understand now why you have distanced yourself. Sam, however, does not. He deserves to know, and you should be the one to tell him."

"How?" Gabriel demanded, more harshly than Castiel really deserved: the kid was just trying to help.

"You have a cell phone, do you not?"

Holy crap. Son of a bitch. Gabriel had been ignoring Sam's casual-but-worried texts, but Cas was right: Gabriel could still communicate via the phone. Grace plus electricals equalled fizzing and exploding: there was practically no way Gabriel could influence Sam like that. Not if he stuck to texting anyway.

He pulled his phone out. "Happy? Now, go back to necking Dean, or spooning or whatever you kids are up to right now."

"Before I go, would you advise me on how I can advance our relationship? Dean seems reluctant to…" Cas stopped, clearly searching for the right phrase.

"Pop your cherry? Steal your virtue? Take your V-card? Deflower you?" Gabriel suggested. "Sure, kid."

He reached out and planted a few ideas in Castiel's mind, of things he could do to his honey to get the motor running.

"You'll need this," Gabriel said, holding out a little bottle of lube. "And make sure he gets tested before you lose all your mojo, yeah? I don't want him giving you anything nasty."

Castiel nodded even though Gabriel was reasonably certain he didn't quite understand. Dean would, and that was what mattered. At least the kid obliged by fluttering back off to Dean, head filled with things that would make Dean's night very interesting.

'You might want to vacate whatever flea-pit you're co-habiting. Cas has plans.'

Gabriel was pleased to see that Sam's response was quick:

'Not sure whether I should thank you for that or not.'

'Depends on what positions you think he'll contort your brother into.'

'I'd probably hate you a little bit right now if I knew what the hell was going on. I haven't heard from you for days, then that?'

'Get yourself somewhere comfortable and let me know. I need to tell you something, but it's complicated.'

'Is this going to be a conversation I need alcohol for?'

'Possibly, but I'd rather you didn't. Kinda makes it hard to text.'

'TEXT? WTF?'

'Okay, I won't drink.'

'I trust you to explain.'

That really worried Gabriel: Sam should not trust him. Not after everything he had done to the kid. It was wrong on so many levels, and a good indicator that Sam wasn't thinking clearly. It meant that Gabriel was right to back off.

Time passed – it could have been five minutes, it could have been fifty, Gabriel wasn't sure – until his phone sounded again:

'At Starbucks, with non-Irish coffee. I'd rather you were here. Clarksburg, Maryland.'

'Sorry, kiddo. It's got to be text. I know it's impersonal, but that's kind of the point here. It's got to be me that tells you, but I can't be there with you.'

'Can I assume you're going to qualify that?'

He could practically see the pissy-yet-curious look on Sam's face.

'Dammit, Sam, this isn't easy for me. Give me time.'

'It's like this. You know I like you, right? I know you know that. How do I know that you know?'

'Assuming this isn't a trick question: you're a telepath.'

'Not a trick. And yes. But, believe it or not, I'm not in complete control of that all the time. I don't actually mean to eavesdrop on all your thoughts.'

'You don't?'

'Not all of them. Obviously, there's some I don't mind dropping eaves on, but the point is it's not on purpose. The other thing about me: I can have pretty much anything I want, with just a thought. The snapping is just for show – the pagans expect it, and it's kind of habit by now.'

Sam appeared to be waiting patiently, as there was no response to that.

'I want you. But I need to be sure that you want me.'

'I know there's a line between fantasising and reality, and that you guys are big on the whole consent thing, but I thought I was pretty clear.'

Gabriel decided to give him a moment. Sammy was a bright kid.

'Oh, for fuck's sake – you don't think I'm thinking for myself, do you?'

'It crossed my mind.'

'And I guess there's nothing I can say to you that will convince you otherwise?'

'Not right now, no. Give it some time, for my mojo to wear off you, and tell me then.'

'And how am I supposed to know when that is?'

'At a guess, when you can't see Castiel's wings any more. That's down to me, so it's a good indicator.'

'I'm sorry Sam, but you said it yourself – it's all about consent. I have to know that you're thinking freely. Especially with those fantasies of yours.'

There was a pause of a couple of minutes, where Sam was clearly trying to work out whether he was pissed with Gabriel, or whether he was willing to accept that the archangel was acting for his benefit.

'Fine. But don't cut me off again.'

'Deal.'

.oOo.

And that was how it started: one insecure, runaway archangel and one impatient, down-on-his-luck, apocalypse-starting human looking down the barrel of a gun wielded by said archangel's older brother. It was fittingly surreal.

'WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU TELL CAS? I DON'T NEED TO HEAR THIS.'

'Audio file or it didn't happen :D'

'You're such an asshole. I'm listening to your little brother having sex. With my brother. This is wrong on so many levels.'

'Is his being an angel one of those levels? If so, that's disappointingly speciesist of you. Angels enjoy sex too.'

'YOU DON'T NEED TO TELL ME THAT, DICK! I CAN HEAR THAT FOR MYSELF!'

'Who's on top?'

'I'm precog, not a telepath and I can't see through a fucking wall. And I wouldn't want to even if I could.'

'Come on – we might as well live vicariously while we're waiting for the blood to wear off.'

'Screw you, Gabriel.'

'Promises, promises. Come on, tell me.'

'No. If you want to listen, you need to get your ass here. You won't get sex out of it, though.'

'You're kidding? Porn soundtrack, and you wouldn't put out?'

'1. Definitely not. I have enough visuals from walking in on Dean that I've got no chance of performing.'

'2. Isn't that kind of the point of your exile?'

'Fair point. But you shouldn't be put off by anyone else, Sam. The human body is a beautiful thing. You watch porn, don't you?'

'Not starring my BROTHER!'

'Prude.'

'Oh, thank any deity that's listening – and I'm reluctantly including you in that – they've stopped. I might be able to sleep now.'

.oOo.

Bright and early the next morning, Gabriel grinned as his phone sounded again.

'You are a fucking piece of shit. Why? I know it was something you said to Cas – how else did you know to warn me in the first place?'

'Omniscient archangel?'

'Bullshit.'

'True. All I did was give him some ways to break the ice, so to speak; get the party started.'

'WELL IT'S STARTED.'

'You wanted this just as much as I did, kiddo. You agreed.'

There was no reply. Gabriel grinned. He supposed it probably was pretty horrifying when viewed through a human's perspective, but from his – lacking the fundamentals of incest, particularly given that his and Castiel's vessels weren't related – it was just funny. And all kinds of hot: Dean and Jimmy were both good-looking guys. He really wanted to check it out: he was pretty sure that Castiel wouldn't have any issues with that (Tree of Knowledge and all that), and that Dean was enough of an exhibitionist that he would probably find being watched a turn-on. (Not that Gabriel had read the prophet's books to learn more about the Winchesters. Nope, not him.)

.oOo.

'I assume it's you I should be thanking for the extra cash that keeps appearing in my pocket?'

'I felt a bit guilty and, comical as it is, sleeping in that car won't do your back any good.'

'Thank you. It's greatly appreciated.'

'You still getting the porn channel?'

'Not tonight. There's a room between us. I can sleep :)'

It was already late everywhere in the continental US, and Gabriel knew that between Dean and Cas' bedroom antics and Lucifer's occasional visits, Sam hadn't been getting a lot of sleep.

'Enjoy your little sanctuary then. Goodnight, Sammy.'

'Night, Gabriel.'

'I miss you.'

Gabriel spent hours staring at that last message. He wanted that last part to be true, wanted to go to Sam and hold him as he slept. He wanted to be able to trust himself.

.oOo.

'Dean has a hickey. FML.'

Seriously? The kid was literally trying to contain the end of the world, and it was a hickey that made him say that? Sam was one weird cookie.

At least their brothers were getting some. And in a much healthier manner than the German truck driver he was currently setting up for a big fall. Gabriel had been to Sodom and seen less sadistic things than this guy's MO.

.oOo.

Gabriel had left the German prick with exactly the same fatal wounds as his victims for the police to find, and moved on to a sweatshop foreman in Bangladesh when, during what would have been evening in the States, Sam decided to play dirty.

"Gabriel. I really hope this isn't an open channel, because this is all for you. Cas says that if I pray to you specifically, then it only goes to you, but you should come and stop me if your brothers are listening in."

They weren't: Sam was on Gabriel's private prayer channel. It wasn't something he generally paid any attention to, but this was Sam, and that automatically piqued his interest.

"He also says that prayers only work from me to you, so you don't have to worry about your grace influencing me. Which I still say is horse shit, by the way. Anyway, I thought you might like this."

Prayers were normally just words and the occasional emotion. The words of prayers were generally learned by rote as children, and the emotions, well... Gabriel had little time for people who were just going through the motions of prayer because their branch of organised religion told them they had to. That was why he had learned to tune out the vast majority of his channel centuries ago. Some highly charged prayers were loud enough to register, and it was how he found a lot of the scum he punished these days.

Sam somehow managed to project imagery: a fantasy of what he wanted Gabriel to do to him. The first few that Sam had shared, back at the diner almost two weeks ago, had been fairly tame. This one – it was tame by the standards of what Gabriel had both seen and experienced, but the thrill underlying it, the sheer sense of want and need behind the extremely detailed image of Sam lying naked over Gabriel's lap, his ass pinking up nicely as Gabriel spanked him then caressed him with his own flight feathers, left Gabriel reeling, leaning against the wall of the warehouse he was staking out and gasping as his vessel's blood supply redirected of its own accord.

"Something for you to think about," Sam prayed, far too innocently. "Goodnight, Gabriel."

Why that little shit. Gabriel was torn between amusement and pride that Sam had even thought to do such a thing, and the horror he knew that his brothers would feel, that he should feel at Sam having desecrated something so pure. Several millennia of human-ish experience told Gabriel that sex might be messy, but it was rarely 'impure' between consenting individuals. The angels just didn't like it because it was symbolic of something they couldn't do – reproduce.

"P.S. I miss you."

.oOo.

He ran into Castiel a few hours later, purely by coincidence. The kid looked both awful and fantastic at the same time: the strain of his failing grace was starting to show on his vessel, the circles under his eyes indicating that he probably needed to sleep for about a week, but there was a spring in his step that Gabriel could only assume came from getting some regularly. He really needed to take care of himself, though: his hair was sticking up at all angles, and his wings were shocking. Gabriel rolled his eyes and dragged his brother to a small pocket dimension.

"Sit," he instructed.

Castiel obeyed without question, sitting on the edge of the bed, exactly where Gabriel had indicated to, his eyes trusting but filled with questions. His vessel relaxed more into the soft mattress than Castiel would have allowed it to even a week ago. He really was tired.

Gabriel climbed onto the bed behind him and methodically started smoothing out the dull tertials close to the vessel. It was the only thing he could do to help, and Castiel seemed to appreciate it, judging from the contented groan he gave before his sense of propriety kicked in.

"Gabriel! You shouldn't."

"Hush. Hierarchy be damned – who else is going to do it? And I'll be looking for a little reciprocation at some point, and mine are a much bigger job than yours will ever be." He wasn't – it would be nice if Castiel felt up to grooming Gabriel at some point, but he wouldn't expect it: he just wanted to do something nice for his baby brother.

"So, what are Sam and Dean up to?"

"I believe they have found omens relating to a restless spirit," Castiel said, somewhat distractedly. "It is a fairly routine hunt for them, and it will do them good to have some time together, without me."

"Castiel, Sam understands, you know," Gabriel said, keeping his voice soft to disguise his worry about how many of Castiel's flight feathers were lying on the bed. "He's just glad that the two of you are happy."

"That statement would be much more convincing if you had seen him at any point in the last two weeks."

"You know why I can't."

"I know that you believe that," Castiel countered. "But Sam does not."

Gabriel sighed and moved his hands up to card through the coverts. "I know. He tells me that regularly. But I have to be sure."

"I understand."

Castiel fell asleep before Gabriel even finished the grooming. That in itself was alarming, and as much a statement of Castiel's poor health as the feathers that littered the bed. Gabriel slipped a pillow under his head and covered him with a brightly-coloured blanket. With a sigh, he scribbled a note in case Castiel awoke before he returned, and headed back to Bangladesh. He dealt with the foreman quickly, his usual flair for the dramatic missing, before he whiled away a few hours looking for his Father.

Castiel was reading the note, his eyes bleary, when Gabriel returned.

"I assume you were unsuccessful?"

"'Fraid so, kiddo," he replied, genuinely remorseful. "I checked pretty much all of Asia for you. I told you: Dad doesn't want to be found."

"I cannot give up. This is too important."

Gabriel pulled his brother into a hug; his arms around the vessel, his wings curving gently around Castiel's own.

"I know. But you're wearing yourself out, and you'll only find Dad if He wants you to."

"I have faith."

Gabriel bit his tongue to stop any of the twenty or so snide responses he wanted to make. Because the amazing thing about Castiel was that he did still have faith: much more than Gabriel, and probably more than their other brothers too, and Gabriel couldn't bring himself to shatter that faith. It was too precious and rare a thing, even among angels.

"I know. But you need to rest. Let me look after you for today. Are you hungry?"

Castiel nodded. "I find it easier if I utilise my vessel's capability of consuming energy."

"Of course you do. We've been in Asia today: have you ever tried any Asian foods?"

Castiel frowned. "I have tried Chinese, but it was not particularly palatable."

Gabriel snorted. "You've tried American 'Chinese'," he scoffed. "Not the real thing."

He disappeared off, grabbed some proper Chinese cuisine from a little street vendor in Beijing, and returned.

The effort was worth it: Castiel's eyes widened and his wings fluffed up in delight at the first bite, and he quickly devoured the whole box of beef in black bean sauce in the time it took Gabriel to savour his spring rolls.

"Thank you, brother."

Gabriel smiled at him. This was nice, although a lot more human than he would care to admit to. Then again, it was something they could only have because of the human influences in their lives: they would never even have been this close in Heaven: the archangels had stuck together, and didn't really spent a vast amount of time with their younger brothers. Michael and Lucifer particularly had been scornful of their less-powerful siblings, and Raphael had his Rit Zien to train and direct. That meant Gabriel was a little more familiar with the lower ranks, and had taken some of them to Earth when they were very young, Castiel included. But they would never have been able to have this kind of closeness. Gabriel found he liked having someone to look after, having spent so long alone.

Gabriel snapped up a plasma screen and tuned it to some detective drama that looked Swedish but, on closer inspection, actually appeared to be Welsh. Cas seemed to be captivated by the storyline (turned out that Sam actually liked detective shows, and preferred the Scandinavian ones to CSI, and they had watched them together when Dean went out drinking), but it didn't take long for his eyelids to start drooping again.

"Come on, little bro: bedtime."

Cas blinked obediently and began shedding his clothing. It took a while until he got down to skin, but what skin! Cassie was hiding a pretty buff body under those layers of too-big polyester.

"Whoa, you can stop there," Gabriel said quickly as Castiel reached for the waistband of his boxers. "Keep that for Deano."

"Brother?"

Castiel looked very confused, which was understandable given that Gabriel wouldn't have been embarrassed by nudity (in fact, he generally preferred it).

"It's a human thing," Gabriel reminded him. "The underwear only comes off for your lover. And if he removes it from you, with his teeth, all the better."

"Very well." And with simple statement, Castiel slipped under the covers, curled up on the right side and fell asleep quickly.

Gabriel grabbed his phone, switched it onto silent and texted Sam.

'Tell Dean not to worry about Cassie – he's here.'

'That might made Dean worry more, but I'll tell him. Are you both okay?'

'Yeah, fine; he's just asleep. Believe it or not, we accidentally ran into each other. He was looking for Dad and I was working.'

'I won't ask.'

'The guy's alive, and he worked three kids to death last month.'

'Fair enough. Did you get my prayer?'

'Yes. I'm impressed. It's not easy to pray in video.'

'Maybe I should try it again sometime. It was fun.'

'Be careful if you do – my brothers hate you enough as it is.'

'Oh, you don't know how tempting it is to send a prayer like that to Zachariah and see him bust a blood vessel.'

Gabriel smothered a laugh so that he didn't wake Castiel.

'Am I to assume that he's exactly as much of an ass now as he was last time I saw him?'

'He's a total dick. He took my lungs out a few months back. Cas saved my ass.'

Gabriel had to force himself to drop the phone before he squeezed it too tightly, and it was something he actually had to go and buy rather than just making himself a new one.

He took a moment to calm down before he picked it back up and carefully typed out a reply:

'I'll burn his wings myself for that.'

'Or I could explode him. I can do that, you know.'

'Yeah. I've seen the aftermath of Raphael doing that. It's tempting to let you, though: he won't leave Dean alone.'

''Let me', kid?'

'Yeah, yeah. All-powerful archangel. I know.'

'And don't you forget it.'

'I'm alive, Gabriel. Zachariah wants the big showdown to happen, and for that, he needs me alive. He would have reversed it before I died.'

'Stop trying to placate me. You're reminding me that my brothers are total dicks and I was right to leave.'

He had just hit 'send' when Castiel let out a whimper and shifted restlessly in his sleep. If Gabriel thought the idea of Castiel sleeping was weird, it was nothing compared to the concept of him dreaming. He was sure that it wasn't going to be pretty – Castiel had seen a lot of crap in his time.

'I don't want to leave things on a bad note tonight. I'm okay, Dean's okay, Cas is kind of okay, and we'll find a way to fix the world. We always do.'

'I won't forget, you know.'

'Yes, I know. Justice is your gig; I just wanted to remind you that everyone's alive and unmaimed.'

Castiel twitched violently and let out a distressed moan, and Gabriel wished that he didn't need Castiel's permission to read his mind. Not without causing him a lot of pain, anyway.

'More or less: Cas is having a nightmare. Talk tomorrow?'

'Definitely. Night, Gabriel.'

'Night, Sammy. Sweet dreams.'

He shucked his own clothes and curled up around Castiel. Immediately, Cas relaxed into his arms, gave a contented snuffle and slipped into a deeper sleep. On the bedside cabinet, Gabriel's phone vibrated, and he contorted his arm backwards to grab it without disturbing Castiel.

'P.S. I miss you.'

.oOo.

Castiel went back to searching the world the following morning, armed with a couple of credit cards – a platinum one in the name of David Hope, and a slightly more none-descript one in the name of Richard Williams that wouldn't look out of place in their usual haunts – and instructions to deliver them to Sam and tell him to go nuts.

"Hey Gabriel. I wanted to say thanks for the credit cards: they're awesome. There's actual cotton sheets on the bed tonight, and I think they might even have been washed. I think Dean will abuse the minibar, so I hope the credit limit is pretty high."

Gabriel quickly reached for his phone and typed out 'They're unlimited' before Sam could distract him.

"I hope you're not still mad about the whole thing we talked about yesterday. Oh, that's great. Not sure I'll tell Dean that, but it's good to know. Anyway, I thought I'd piss your brothers off for a bit later on, and give you a reason to come back.

"We've been hunting a ghost the past couple of days. It was a woman whose fiancé died during the civil war. She let herself waste away because she couldn't be with him, and it got me thinking just how crappy this whole situation is. But most of all, I wanted to apologise for getting pissy with you over it. It's just that, my whole life has been me grabbing hold of affection when I find that connection with someone, because the likelihood is that one of us is going to die. Soon. So it's best not to waste time."

There was a faint thrill of arousal slipping in as an undercurrent to the prayer.

"Castiel says that prayers carry feelings with them, and you said yourself that I did something you didn't expect, so maybe this will work. Can you feel that?"

Abruptly there was visual too. Sam appeared to be sitting, shirtless, on the end of a bed, in a pretty non-descript hotel, in front of a full-length mirror. His hand was rubbing almost idly over his crotch.

"Can you see that? Can you feel how you make me feel? What just thinking of you does to me? I wish I could explain it. It makes no sense, but I want you."

Deftly, Sam undid the button of his jeans and eased the zipper down.

"I want you to be here. Normally, I imagine this is your hands on me, undressing me reverently, but I don't want fantasy getting in the way tonight. Because this is all for you. I want you to see me, not some fantasy version of you."

The view in the mirror made Gabriel's mouth water.

"I think you would tease me mercilessly for hours. I think you would wind me up in front of Dean and Cas, because you can be a little shit, and you don't care about that kind of thing. I'd be sitting, researching whatever the hell we're hunting, and I'd be sitting, helplessly hard, unable to stand up because they'd see. Being really tall makes you stand out in a crowd anyway, and you know I hate that, but can you imagine how little attention our brothers would have to be paying to notice?"

Gabriel gave a little whimper as Sam stood and shucked his clothing completely. This was going to get them both smote, he was sure. Either that, or Sam was about to discover a brand new way of killing an archangel. At least it would be information he could make good use of.

.oOo.

Sam hadn't been able to hold the link until the end, but it had been long enough, from Gabriel's perspective. After a couple of minutes after it dropped out, during which Gabriel's vessel sorted out a comfortable homeostasis once more, the link picked back up.

"P.S. I miss you."

Gabriel was growing to like Sam's choice of ending to his prayers. The longer Sam continued to tell him that, the more Gabriel was coming to believe it was actually true.

'I miss you too. Goodnight, Sammy.'

.oOo.

Gabriel entertained himself with dropping a woman who beat her wife and kids down a flight of stairs, while simultaneously pushing the details of the local women's' shelter under their front door, and arranging for the douche who was embezzling money from the Disaster Relief Fund to be caught red-handed. It was a good day's work, all told, but he was waiting for his Sam to contact him the whole time.

'We finished with the job in Florida, and we're heading back to Bobby's. Might take us a couple of days, but we're not planning on dragging out asses – we need to get a handle on this apocalypse stuff before it's too late.'

'Wow, Sammy, don't skip the foreplay.'

'I'm just letting you know. Maybe I'm hoping you'll visit?'

'Maybe I'll be able to.'

'I hope so. I liked putting that show on for you last night, but I'd rather have the real thing.'

'Are you getting hard, thinking about it?'

'Fuck. Yes. And I'm stuck in the damn Impala next to Dean.'

'Maybe he'd help you out.'

'Shut up, Gabriel. You're really not helping.'

'Have you met me? I never shut up, although I'm sure you have a lovely way of persuading me…'

'Have I mentioned that you're a fucking asshole?'

'I'm fucking an asshole? Only yours, älskling, and hopefully soon.'

'I'll turn my phone off.'

'Okay, okay. I'll get back to the SOB I'm hunting right now and leave you to it.'

'Thank you.'

'P.S. I miss you.'

That had been mid-morning, but truth be told, Gabriel was really looking forward to another prayer, assuming Dean stopped for the evening and didn't drive right though. He knew it wouldn't have been the first time that happened. He was, therefore, pleasantly surprised when he received a text at around eight in the evening.

'We've stopped at the Days Inn, Holly Springs, MS. Cas is with us, but he looks tired and I think he and Dean will turn in early. We're in Room 209.'

'And, by the way, did I mention that I miss you and I stopped seeing his wings nearly a week ago?'

"What the fuck, Sam?" Gabriel demanded.

Sam looked up from the remnants of a Chinese meal (that actually looked and smelled Chinese, probably courtesy of Castiel), his face the picture of innocence.

"Oh. So I didn't say?"

"No you fucking didn't, and you damn well know it," Gabriel snarled. On the periphery of his perception, both Castiel and Dean were moving, just in case Gabriel did something rash. Of course, trying to fight him was even more rash than anything he might do to Sam.

Sam's eyes were serious and sincere when he met Gabriel's. "You were right. We had to know for sure."

That was like a great big pin, popping the bubble of anger. He heard Castiel sigh in relief as he relaxed.

"Come Dean," Cas said quietly as Gabriel continued to stare at Sam. "I seem to be very tired suddenly."

Oh, bless his grace: the kid was trying out tact. How sweet.

"Uh, yeah. Sure thing, Cas. Night, you guys."

They hurried out the door without even waiting for a response, leaving just Sam and Gabriel in the room.

"So, that prayer last night?"

"Needed to be sure you knew just how much I want you. And I needed you to know that I was willing to wait for you; that I'm not just grabbing the nearest warm and willing body."

Gabriel nodded solemnly. "I understand. It doesn't mean that I'm not still pissed that you didn't tell me for a week, but I do get it."

"Good."

Sam had stood, and was suddenly in Gabriel's space. Gabriel knew that if he was actually the height of his vessel, rather than being folded up inside, he would probably feel small and delicate next to this giant of a man who was currently pulling him close. He pushed up onto his tiptoes to meet Sam's lips with his own. His eyes fluttered closed as he finally felt the warmth of Sam's soul.

This fic continues into a very smutty second chapter on AO3

This 'verse continues in 'A Very Modern Dispute'