Archive of Our Own ^beta

He'd been waiting for it. Braced. On edge. Sam knew it was coming, even if he didn't know when. The power had been flickering for the last half hour, and every time it made his heart start to pound in his chest. Outside, the wind was howling and the trees outside his windows swayed hard. Lightning lit up the sky what felt like every few seconds, and every flash felt like Sam himself had been struck. It was awful, the waiting, and he flinched hard as the power flickered again. Once. Twice. Then his living room was immediately consumed in darkness. 

Panic fled through him. On a logical level he knew that it was just the storm and that he was safe. They'd been calling for bad weather for the last week, and Sam had more than prepared himself. He'd lived through this enough times to know the drill: water, nonperishable food, more water, flashlights, batteries, candles. He'd even brought home a nice bottle of whisky just in case he really needed to escape it. He was ready. If the power was out longer than just the one night he'd be fine, but his skin prickled with anxiety as the What Ifs immediately started to crawl through his head. What if the power was out for days? What if a tree fell into his building? What if the rivers flooded and he was trapped? Sam forced himself to breathe. He forced himself to be calm. It was going to be alright. It was just a storm, nothing more. He was safe, he had a bed to sleep in, and he was more than prepared to ride this out for as long as he needed to.

Once he'd shaken off the first waves of panic, the need to move set in. He flicked on the flashlight on his phone to see by, and set to lighting every candle he had in the house. It didn't matter if they were scented or not, they were going to be lit and they were going to stay lit. If his house smelled like a mix of pine, coffee, and lemon who gave a fuck? He didn't. Being able to see was more important than that. The only problem was that the small flames cast dancing shadows on the walls and made the dark portions of his apartment seem even darker. Under the bed was a black hole. His closet was a cave. Hell, even the bathroom was a tunnel. He stashed candles wherever he could, and while their light was moderately comforting it wasn't enough. His hands were still shaking.

Sam didn't like the dark.

His phone chirped in his hand. He still had cell service, at least. He lifted it to his face and squinted at the screen in the darkness. A text from Dean. His power had just gone out too. He heard a crash, and expected that it was a tree in his neighbor's yard. Sam shuddered and texted back that his was out too, and he hoped Dean was alright. There wasn't much either of them could do but that in this moment. They'd check on each other, and Bobby and Jody and the girls, as often as they could. Communication was key. It was one thing to be in the dark, but it was something else entirely to be in the dark and alone. 

He took a seat on the couch and surveyed the room. Candles were on as many surfaces as he could cram them. That was good. He could see pretty much every part of the living room, and if he had to go anywhere else he could take one with him. The light wouldn't leave him. It was fine. He was going to be fine. 

Out of nowhere, his stomach rumbled. Another glance to his phone said that it was just after eight, and he'd been so consumed with watching the storm that he'd forgotten to eat. Other than the emergency stuff he bought, he still had a fridge full of food to deal with. If the power was going to be out for any length of time he'd need to do something with it. Cleaning a spoiled fridge was something you only did once. He was hungry, but he wasn't. The idea of sitting on the couch by himself to eat cold cuts was kind of the last thing he wanted to do. He needed to, he knew that, but he didn't want to. His stomach clenched as another bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and something in the back of his mind woke up. It said Go. Get Out. Don't Be Alone. His fight or flight response always had a hair trigger in the dark. He'd been that way since he was a kid. But there was nowhere to go.

His eyes moved toward the door. The entryway was dark because he hadn't put any candles in it. In his mind, the doorway was a huge, invisible mouth waiting to open its jaws and swallow him whole. Still. He wasn't going to survive like this. Texting Dean and everyone would help some, but if Sam had to sit there with nothing but his own thoughts for company he was going to go crazy. He already missed the hum of the fan or the gurgle of the fridge. It was the white noise of life, and now it was gone. Even if it was just for a few hours, it was gone and he hated it. It was too quiet. Even with the sound of rain pummeling his windows it was still too quiet. 

Sam's mind spun with options. There weren't many. It would be stupid to go out and try to drive to Dean's in this. He was thirty minutes away on a good day, and there was no telling what the road conditions were. Never mind the fact that Dean loved storms. He was probably on his porch with a beer and watching the sky light up. Sam couldn't deal with that. He couldn't deal with the pitying looks and playful jabs about him acting like a baby. No. Here was better. It was safer. And yet he still couldn't do this alone. Who could he go to? People had been leaving all day just in case, and Sam had no idea if any of his neighbors were even still around. He could call or text, sure, but what would he say? He was thirty-four years old, for fuck's sake. 

But there was a neighbor he knew. Sam knew him well enough for them to casually chat in the hallway or up at the gym. He also knew that he was still around because Sam had heard him on his phone in the hallway as he put his key into the lock a couple of hours ago. He hadn't heard anything after that, so that had to mean he was still there. He was just across the hall. 

--

"Coming through!"

Two movers holding a couch were practically barreling up the stairs. Sweat poured down their faces in the summer heat, but they moved like they didn't even feel it. It was that efficient type of movement. They'd done this a million times, and Sam standing by his door wasn't going to stop them. 

He watched them push into the door across from his that was currently propped open. From where he stood, Sam could see inside to the boxes and furniture that had already been brought in. The walls were still barren, painted the Landlord Special off-white, and the freshly cleaned carpet bore bootprints where they'd walked back and forth. Sam stood where he was for a moment. He was a little entranced if he was honest with himself. Getting a glimpse inside someone's home had always given him a little thrill, and even though he knew the apartment across from his was just the mirror image of his own it was still interesting to see inside. So he stood there, dressed in his suit for work, and watched the movers drop the couch in front of the one large, empty wall before they turned and started back out to get the next thing. 

As they disappeared down the steps, another man came up carrying a box. He was shorter, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers, and his angular face was screwed up in concentration as he hefted the box more securely into his arms. Sam could see a sharp nose, thin lips, and cheeks that were pinked from both the heat and the exertion. He made his way inside, and much like the movers he dropped the box on the floor and took a step back from it. From his vantage point outside the door, Sam could see the man bend over, hands on his knees, and breathing hard. Four flights of stairs was hard enough, but carrying pretty much anything made it worse. Sam was in great shape, but even he hated carting grocery bags or boxes up to his apartment. The man sighed, wiped his hands on his jeans, and headed back for the door. That was when he saw Sam.

"Hope they didn't run you over with the couch," the man said brightly, "those guys are worth every fucking penny, if you're ever looking to move."

"Good to know," Sam replied, then shook his head, "and no. I'm still in one piece."

"Good," the man said, still slightly out of breath, and he cast a glance over at the stairs before he held out a hand, "Gabriel. New neighbor as of this morning."

He smiled and switched his travel mug of coffee from one hand to the other so he could shake, "Sam. Nice to meet you."

"Sam from 410," Gabriel said, and nodded like he was committing it to memory, "I gotta know, do the stairs ever get easier?"

Sam let out a soft laugh and shrugged, "When they do, I'll let you know. I've been here three years, and they still get me."

"Fuck," Gabriel groaned, "looks like I can't skip leg day anymore, huh?"

"Guess not."

Gabriel looked him over, up and down, almost shamelessly. He smiled, and the expression seemed to brighten his entire face. Standing there now, Sam could tell that Gabriel's hair was a golden brown and full of soft curls that were flicking up around his ears in the morning heat. His eyes, too, were a warm honey color. They were trained on him, and suddenly Sam's mouth felt dry. He hadn't expected to scrutinized so early in the morning. Still, Gabriel was handsome. He was compact and looked solid, and he was definitely handsome. He was Sam's handsome neighbor across the hall.

"I need to get to work," Sam said, "but...good luck with the moving in?"

"Thanks," Gabriel nodded, "once I'm all unpacked maybe I'll bring you a drink or something. Celebrate."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Try not to get trampled on the way down. Those guys are on a schedule, and they do NOT want to get behind."

"Noted," Sam chuckled, "nice meeting you, Gabriel."

"You too, Sam from 410."

--

Outside his door the rain was whipping through the hallway. The sound of thunder was louder, and Sam could see the trees flailing in the wind. He steeled himself. The lights outside were out, so it was darker than Sam had ever seen it. Every building must be out of power, and it made Sam feel like he was completely alone. His nerves were on fire, and he swallowed hard. At least the darkness didn't change the layout of the hallway. Gabriel's door was right across from his. It was five steps, if that. In the wind and rain, Sam lifted his phone, flashlight on, and took those three steps. He stood on the black doormat, indecision wavering through him, and stared at the apartment number that was screwed into the outside wall. 412. Sam had seen it every day since he'd moved in. Including Gabriel, there had been three tenants in his time there. The first was a couple who were clearly living together for the first time. Sam had heard them fighting through the walls more times than he could count. After that it had been two girls that Sam had never been sure if they were an item or not. It was a one bedroom, just like his own, but with as much as rent cost anymore Sam wouldn't have been surprised if they were just roommates. He hadn't really talked to any of them. He'd been cordial the few times they crossed paths, but Gabriel had been the only one thus far that Sam had ever spoken to semi-regularly. 

He lifted a hand and knocked. Sam tried his best not to pound on the door lest he scare Gabriel inside, but the fear in him made him want to pound and yell until someone answered. He just needed to see another face. He needed to know that he wasn't by himself. So he knocked a respectable three times. Not too lightly, but not too forcefully. At any other time he could have been knocking to invite Gabriel out to use the grills and have a drink, or maybe borrow a cup of sugar. That's what neighbors did in all the old tv shows he'd watched a kid. He'd always wondered how much sugar someone had to go through to need to ask for some instead of going to the store it buy a new bag. It was weird. And it was weird thinking about it now. 

A few heartbeats passed. Sam shifted his weight, and flinched as another bolt of lightning lit up the sky. It was going to be hours of this. The storm was forecasted to last late into the night, possibly into the morning, and it was going to be like that until it stopped. Sam couldn't deal with it. Every passing second that Gabriel didn't answer the door made Sam's chest ache. He lifted his hand to knock again, but the door was suddenly pulled open to reveal Gabriel in the darkness with his phone flashlight lit in the same exact way Sam's was. His eyebrows rose as he took in the sight of Sam standing on his doorstep, the wind whipping his hair around, and shining a light in his face.

"Sam?" Gabriel asked.

"Hey," Sam greeted. His voice was higher and tighter than he liked, and he hoped his eyes didn't look too wild. Too fearful. "I, uh...I just lost power," he explained, "I guess you did too?"

Gabriel nodded, "Yeah," he answered, "was kind of hoping it would stay on long enough for a shower and dinner, but I guess not."

"Never that lucky."

"Are you okay?" Gabriel asked, "you're getting soaked."

Sam was dimly aware of the fact that the rain was soaking him through a bit. He'd hardly noticed. He was way too focused on wanting Gabriel to open the door.

"I-" he started, but wasn't quite sure what to say, "do you maybe want to come over? I've got food and booze."

Gabriel just stared at him for a second. Considering. He cast a glance backward into his void of an apartment, then shrugged. He offered Sam a smile and reached behind the wall where Sam couldn't see to pull out a set of keys. He jingled them once, then stepped out so he could close the door behind him. It meant Sam had to take a step back, but that wordless answer made a wave of calm wash through him. Gabriel had accepted. He wasn't going to be alone.

 "May as well," Gabriel agreed as he turned the key in the lock, "I got a few things, but I'm probably way underprepared."

Just then another bolt of lightning stretched across the sky, and the thunder that came after was so loud that Sam could have sworn felt the building shake. Gabriel jumped, still working the key in the lock, and in the brief second of light he saw Gabriel squeeze his eyes shut. The shock of the noise was enough to unsettle anyone, but Gabriel had almost jumped out of his skin. Jesus. Maybe Sam wasn't alone in hating this.

"Come on," Sam prompted, and caught Gabriel's elbow to lead him the few steps back toward his door to let them in.

Once inside with the door shut and locked behind them, water dripping from their clothes, Gabriel let out a low whistle. He was standing in Sam's entryway with his hands on his hips, bare feet wide apart, and his thumb tapping at the waistband of the sweats he wore. Sam hadn't even noticed a second ago that Gabriel was basically in pajamas. He hadn't even put on shoes to walk across the hall. He looked cozy. A little damp, but still cozy.

"You really know how to set the mood," Gabriel commented as he followed Sam more into the living room, "you have stock in Yankee Candle or something?"

"I wish," Sam said over his shoulder, "could have made a pretty penny this quarter."

Gabriel followed him toward the kitchen. Sam had grabbed a candle off the table to carry with him, and once they stood between the island and the counter he set it down. Then he opened the fridge and started to pull out everything he could think of: cheese, various cold cuts, tomatoes, cucumber, and everything else he had for a salad. Beside him, Gabriel just watched, and moved slowly toward one of the cabinets. He lifted a hand to open it, but paused. In the candlelight, his profile was a shadow. He looked almost like a ghost standing in Sam's kitchen. If it weren't for the fact that Sam could hear him breathing and smell the cologne he wore he might have thought he was.

"Can I get anything?" Gabriel asked.

"There's crackers and stuff up there," Sam said, "I was thinking a poor man's charcuterie."

"I'm always down for a plate of meat and cheese," Gabriel agreed, "especially if there's drinks to go with it."

"I've still got ice, there's beer still cold, and whisky."

"A man after my own heart."

Sam didn't bother with arranging everything nicely on his wooden chopping board. The less dishes to sit in the sink the better. Instead, he put slices of ham, turkey, and roast beef on one plate, various slices and hunks of cheese he'd bought over the last week or so on another, and the leaves and veg on a third. It wasn't pretty, but it was food. When he looked up, Gabriel had pulled down the boxes of Triscuits and Ritz he always had on hand, and waved them almost in triumph. The gesture said "look, I helped!" Sam couldn't help but smile. He wasn't sure if it was the way Gabriel seemed so proud of himself or the fact that there was just someone there with him that made him feel so much better. Probably a bit of column a and a bit of column b. 

Then drinks, beer first, and they moved back to the couch. Now that they were back where most of the light was, Sam watched as both shadow and flame danced across Gabriel's features. In the dim light Sam could see that he looked tired, but that could have been a trick of the darkness. Everyone looked like hell when the light was bad, but there was a distinct shadow under Gabriel's eyes. Sam didn't want to say anything. Calling attention to it would only highlight how anxious and desperate he probably looked. It was also rude. Sam barely knew the guy, after all. He didn't need to start making comments on his appearance. 

"Thanks for this," Gabriel said as he plucked a hunk of cheese off one plate and pressed it down against a cracker, "I was standing in my bathroom trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do."

"At least you weren't actually in the shower?" Sam offered, "there's nothing worse than the lights going out then."

"It's a vulnerable time," Gabriel agreed with a nod as he popped the cracker and cheese into his mouth. He chewed almost thoughtfully, one finger up as if to say 'just one second,' "freaking out about being wet and naked when the lights go out is probably one of those lizard brain things left over from our Cro-Magnon ancestors."

"Sure feels like it."

Another flash of lightning. Another boom of thunder. Sam watched Gabriel tense, and he fought down his own little shudder of discomfort. One of Gabriel's hands balled into a fist, and he set his jaw before he shook his head. It was as though he were trying to shake himself out of that moment, and a second later he was back to the little smirk that always seemed to be present on his lips. 

"You ever been through something like this?" Gabriel asked.

Sam nodded and reached for a cracker of his own, "Plenty of times. At least now we're in an apartment instead of a truck on the side of the road. That's...it's awful," he answered.

"On the side of the road?" Gabriel asked, eyes widening, "in something like this? Are you serious?"

"Dad was a long haul trucker, and sometimes he used to bring my brother and I with him when no one could watch us. We went through a few storms, and he had to park the rig on the side of the highway for the night. The whole truck would shake."

"How old were you?" Gabriel asked.

"I don't remember. Seven or eight, maybe?"

"Jesus."

"Yeah. I-I don't really like shit like this.," Sam admitted softly.

Gabriel's expression softened. He was studying Sam's face in the candlelight over their sad little dinner, but his eyes seemed to almost radiate warmth. Compassion. For such a talkative guy, he was suddenly very quiet. Sam was sure he was just being respectful, but he appreciated it all the same.

"I don't either, actually," Gabriel said, "but it's more the loud noise. It's always freaked me out. My brothers used to be real assholes about it, too."

"Are you the...oldest?" Sam asked as he looked over to search in Gabriel's face.

"Youngest," Gabriel answered with a shake of his head, "you?"

"Same."

"Ah, so we both have asshole brothers who didn't understand, huh?"

Sam managed a soft laugh, "How'd you guess?"

"You knocked on my door and asked me to come over when you barely know me," Gabriel pointed out, "pretty telling. I could be a serial killer, you know?"

"You're not."

"Sure about that?" Gabriel asked, and winked.

"Pretty sure. Sure enough."

He watched Gabriel smirk again as he grabbed up another piece of cheese to pop into his mouth. Sam's eyes stayed on Gabriel's lips. He watched the man chew, and every so often just the tip of a pink tongue dipped out to lick at cracker crumbs left behind. It made Sam's stomach do something fluttery, and he had to look away. Now wasn't the time to be thinking about that. Ever since that first meeting on the stairs, Sam had thought Gabriel was handsome. He was handsome every time Sam saw him too, whether it was when he was dressed for work, or the gym, or bumming around at the pool in pair of garish lime green board shorts. He always looked so cool and like he belonged no matter where he was. He talked to everyone effortlessly. Sam wished he could be like that. Instead, he'd settled for the sort of pointless crush on his neighbor across the hall, and tried not to think about it. Except now Gabriel was there, and Sam couldn't stop thinking about it.

--

The gym was empty. It was well past ten, and most of the after work crowd had finished a while ago and gone back to their apartments for dinner. That was how Gabriel liked it. He liked things quiet. He also didn't like working out where anyone could see. He could never boast that he was a hundred percent sure of his form when he used the weights, and he hated when people who thought they knew better offered him advice. Watching himself in the mirror was bad enough. So he stuck to cardio. Gabriel liked the treadmill. He didn't mind running, and minded it even less when it was in an air conditioned room with a tv in front of him. It was probably counterintuitive, but he liked to watch Food Network while he ran. It was just mindless enough to lose himself in, and by the time whatever cake competition or Iron Chef battle was over his time was up and he'd burned enough calories to at least feel good about himself.

He stepped back down onto the concrete floor and grabbed a towel to wipe his face. He'd heard somewhere that it wasn't good to work out so close to bedtime because of endorphins or whatever making it harder to sleep. Fuck that. Gabriel liked wearing himself out, going home to a hot shower, and collapsing into bed with a Youtube video. He wasn't sure if it made him sleep better or worse, but it was definitely his routine now. It had been since about the second month he'd lived there. Three nights a week, Gabriel went and did the thing where he got his heartrate up for health reasons. Maybe it wasn't the most fun kind of cardio he could think of, but it was better than nothing. Plus it gave him time to decompress. Work was more than a little nuts, and he needed something to get his anxiety and energy out before he went to bed and started worrying about what kind of shitshow he'd be walking into the next day.

The sound of the door made him look up. He hadn't expected to see anyone else before he left. Usually he didn't. Yet as the keycode beeped and the glass door was pulled open, in walked his neighbor from across the hall. Sam from 410. All six foot something of him. In sweatpants. And a tank top that showed off massive arms. Gabriel blinked. Holy fuck. Obviously he'd registered that Sam was tall, but how in the fuck had he not clocked the muscle on him? Gabriel's tongue had practically fallen out of his head the first time he'd laid eyes on the man, and now it was trying to escape his mouth again. And now they were going to be working out in the same space? Gabriel wasn't sure he could handle it. To see Sam from 410 all sweaty and lifting weights? Gabriel might actually combust.

"Oh. Hey," Sam greeted with a slight wave.

"Hey," Gabriel greeted back, "late night workout?"

Sam nodded, "Best kind."

"Yeah. Agreed."

They stared at each other for a second, and suddenly Gabriel was very aware of the fact that he probably looked like a hot mess. He'd sweated through his shirt, a huge freebie from his college days, and the black Nike gym shorts probably did nothing for his ass. He knew his face was red from the run, and his hair was probably flying everywhere. Why had Sam chosen right then to come in? Why couldn't he have waited the extra fifteen minutes, so Gabriel could get through his elliptical time and get out of there? Now he was embarrassed. Wholly.

"Have fun?" Gabriel said, and practically winced for how stupid it sounded.

"You too," Sam told him as he walked past. 

Gabriel tried not to stare as Sam moved through to the middle of the room. He sat down at the rowing machine and fiddled with some of the knobs, then pulled out his phone and a set of earbuds. In the mirror, Gabriel could see himself watching. Sam would be able to see it too, so he pretended to wipe his face off again before heading to another row of machines. He climbed onto the elliptical, took a breath, and tried not to think about the sight behind him. It would have been creepy to just watch. He needed to focus. Fifteen minutes then he could go and picture Sam from 410 all sweaty and rippling with muscle on his own time.

He tried to lose himself in the circular rhythm. Gabriel was just coordinated enough to not fall off the damn thing, but only just. In his head he had to keep repeating 'left, right, left, right' just to make sure he didn't windmill backward and crack his head open. That proved difficult. In the mirror, he could see Sam moving in a similar rhythmic motion as he glided forward and back. The muscle in his arms was taut, and Gabriel could see his back flexing under the thin shirt he wore. His mouth was dry. He grabbed up his water bottle to take a sip, but it didn't help. It had also, somehow, gotten hotter in the room. The AC was blasting, but Gabriel's blood was on fire. Yeah, he couldn't take this. Seeing Sam dressed in a nice suit for work or flannel and ass hugging jeans was more than enough material for Gabriel's self-titled Private Collection. This was entirely too much. 

Slowly, Gabriel came to a stop. He could just feel his legs starting to burn again, but giving up was easier than trying to pretend he wasn't ogling Sam where it was very easy to see. A workout could wait. He needed to go. More than anything, he needed to go home and make the shower he was going to climb into as cold as possible. Jesus fucking Christ, Sam had no right to be so...hot. There, Gabriel said it. Sam was hot. Sam was hot, and Gabriel was smitten. He was smitten by his earnest face, huge muscles, gorgeous hair, and the quiet demeanor about him. He was gentle and seemed kind, and it wasn't fair that he was the whole six foot and then some package. How the fuck was Gabriel supposed to deal with that?

So he grabbed his stuff. He tried to make it look like he wasn't rushing or like Sam had chased him off. He had, but not in the way that Sam might think. Gabriel didn't want him to think that he didn't want him around or that he'd somehow intruded on the public space. He forced himself to be calm, and he shouldered his gym back onto his shoulder with one last glance over at Sam on the rowing machine. In the mirror, he could see that Sam's eyes were closed and his headphones were in. He'd never notice Gabriel leaving. That was probably good. Almost guiltily Gabriel watched him for another moment. He watched the way Sam moved, back and forth, and a little voice in his head wondered what it might be like if Sam did something else that included a back and forth motion. Gabriel grit his teeth together, silently told himself to shut up, and turned to go. 

The cold shower hadn't even helped.

--

They sat on the couch, food gone on the table in front of them, and in between bursts of thunder and lightning made the kind of idle chitchat that came from getting to know someone in a situation that was definitely unusual. Sam learned that Gabriel was a journalist. He worked for the Times, Arts and Leisure section, and the moment he said it Sam realized it made too much sense. Gabriel was always coming and going. He was on the phone more often then not when Sam saw him, and he'd often heard dates being thrown around in what bits of conversation he caught. If Gabriel was going to events, then that would make sense. Initially Sam had figured he was some kind of businessman, but his personality didn't at all match up to the types Sam had known in business school back in college. He was just a little too bright, too mouthy and quick witted, to sit in an office all day and talk numbers. No, the journalism made sense. Sam had probably read an article or two by him, come to think of it. He couldn't remember, but he did like to read the paper when he and Dean went over to Bobby's for breakfast on Sundays.

They talked about Sam's work. Family Law. It was a much more subdued topic, but Gabriel listened as Sam went on a bit about a current case. He didn't get into too many specifics, he couldn't, but the stress of work on top of preparing for the bad weather had been weighing on him the last few days. It felt good to get it out. Dean and Bobby heard it enough, so it was nice to have a new set of ears. For his part, Gabriel nodded and listened intently. In the candlelight, his golden eyes were almost laser focused on Sam's face. Not only did it feel like he was listening, actively, but that he was also interested. Not a lot of people were ever actually interested. It made something warm bloom in Sam down at his core, and he was very grateful for Gabriel's presence all of a sudden. It wasn't just because he hadn't wanted to be alone. He wanted to be with Gabriel.

"I always wanted to write a book," Gabriel said lightly before he took a drink from his beer, "but I could never figure out what kind I wanted to write."

"Yeah?" Sam asked, "like fiction? Nonfiction?"

"Fiction, probably," Gabriel answered, "maybe take a few notes from my own life and stick them in like Easter Eggs: alcoholic writer dad, unruly siblings, Imposter Syndrome. Y'know...the good stuff."

One of Sam's eyebrows rose, "Your dad's a writer too?" he asked.

Gabriel nodded and tipped the can back to get the last of whatever was in it, "Oh yeah. His books were huge back in the nineties and the early two-thousands."

Sam cocked his head to the side. He'd read a lot as a kid, always had a book in his backpack, and was suddenly wondering who Gabriel's father was. Had Sam read something by him? There were millions of books out there, sure, but Sam had spent hours upon hours in Barnes and Nobles as a kid while his dad was working. Dean had preferred the mall or arcades, but Sam had stuck to the bookstores. That was back when they had chairs you could sit in to read, and sometimes he'd scrounge up enough pocket change to get a hot chocolate from the Starbucks that were always in the center. Those were some of the better memories from his childhood. Even if he never paid for a book he read so many during those long hours. His skin prickled with the want to ask, but he was sure that Gabriel had answered that question a million times. If his dad was famous he probably even started off by saying "Hi, I'm Gabriel, yes that's my dad." or something. Sam knew what it was like to get asked some of the same questions over and over, like how the weather was or if he played basketball, so he could empathize.

"You want to ask, don't you?" Gabriel teased, and it shook Sam from his memories of snowy nights curled up in a green armchair while jazzy Christmas classics played over tinny loudspeakers.

"I mean..." Sam started, then smiled a little shyly, "I don't NOT want to ask."

"Chuck Shurley."

Sam blinked. He didn't recognize the name. Shit.

Then Gabriel held up a hand, "Sorry. Carver Edlund. He went by his real name after he finished the first series."

Sam blinked again, but this time it wasn't out of confusion. Was Gabriel serious? Carver Edlund? As in trashy magical realism Carver Edlund? Two brothers driving across the country in a muscle car Carver Edlund? The books Sam had devoured as a kid because it so reminded him of himself and Dean in the back of his dad's big rig Carver Edlund? There was no way.

"No fucking way."

Gabriel nodded once, then got to his feet. He sauntered back toward the kitchen, pulled open the fridge, and fished out another two cans of beer. he moved like it was his apartment. He moved like he already knew where Sam kept everything. He moved like he'd been over a hundred times and didn't need to ask permission. In the short hour or two since he'd come in the door, Gabriel had somehow settled in like he was one of Sam's oldest friends. It was like he belonged there.

"The very same. Unfortunately," Gabriel told him as he came back toward the couch and held out the other beer for Sam to take, "thankfully he wrote the good ones under the fake name, so I'm at least mostly sure I've gotten jobs based on my actual skill and not nepotism. Not that I care that much. Being able to trade his last name for favors is the least he could do."

Sam's mind was still reeling. He couldn't believe it. the bitterness in Gabriel's voice, however, pulled him back. The way he sounded when he talked like that? It probably meant he wouldn't reach out to his dad for an autograph. Sam knew that bitterness all too well. John had been dead for years at that point, but there were still times when the back of his neck felt hot from the anger that still festered down in Sam's heart. He loved his dad, mostly, but it was more out of duty and paternal respect than actually liking the man. Sam hadn't liked him much at all.

"I read them," Sam said, "his books. When I was a kid."

"You and everyone else," Gabriel said, "made him a millionaire. I hate to burst your bubble about the guy, but he's an absolute tool. Raised four more, too."

"You're not a tool," Sam countered as he sat up a little, "not from what I've seen."

Gabriel gestured with open arms, hands pointed back toward himself, then cracked the can of beer open, "I appreciate the compliment, but trust me. We do this a few more times, and I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Sam set his beer down on the table next to an empty plate. He watched Gabriel drop himself down on the couch, and he practically lounged across the cushion. He let himself take up room. Sam had never quite learned how to do that. As big as he was, he often tried to take up as little space as possible. Gabriel was unashamed. He let himself stretch out, beer in hand, and looked at Sam where his head was leaned against a pillow. The candlelight reflected in his eyes made them seem even more golden. Brighter. Warmer.  Sam couldn't tell if he thought they looked more like honey or the whisky that was still back in the kitchen. Either way, they were beautiful. Gabriel was beautiful, even as he made snide comments about himself.

"Guess we'll have to do this a few more times so I can prove you wrong," Sam said, and smiled, "which I bet doesn't happen often. For you."

"No," Gabriel said with a slight shake of his head, "not often. You really want to have me over again? Like with lights on and everything?"

"Even air conditioning. Shoot for the stars, man."

That made Gabriel laugh, and it sounded like music. Everything about him was just so fucking extraordinary. He was so expressive with his face, his movements, and his laugh was what Sam pictured when he heard the wind chimes a building over blowing in the gale outside. It was infectious, too, and soon Sam was laughing right alongside him.  

"Alright. It's a date," Gabriel agreed, and lifted his beer as if to cheers.

Sam picked up his own, cracked it open, and tapped it against the one held out to him.

--

It was nearly midnight on a Saturday. Sam was rarely out that late, if ever, but he'd spent the evening over at Dean's house to watch the baseball game. Overtime was a bitch, and Sam was glad he didn't have to work tomorrow. It just meant that he was heading for the door a lot later than usual, and as he climbed the last few stairs up to the hallway outside his apartment he looked up at the sound of a laugh. No, not a laugh. A giggle. An honest to god giggle.

He slowed his pace as he came up, and saw in the yellow glow of the outside lights that he wasn't the only one just getting home. Outside the door across from his was Gabriel, but he wasn't alone. A woman with curly red hair clad in a slinky black dress was at his elbow. Gabriel was fumbling with the key, and Sam had to wonder if they were drunk. Sam hadn't seen his neighbor in a few days, but it was clear that wherever they'd been they'd had a good time. Gabriel was dressed in a suit, a nicer one than he'd seen him wear before, and his head was bowed as he pushed the key in the lock and murmured something to the woman leaning on him. She giggled again, and they both looked up as Sam came to the top of the stairs.

"Hi," the woman said, and smiled the kind of smile that spoke of maybe one drink too many.

"Uh, hi," Sam replied, and cast a look where Gabriel was watching him over her shoulder.

His cheeks were pink. It wasn't hot out so it wasn't the weather, and Sam wondered if maybe Gabriel had a drink too many too. His eyes were clear, though, and trained on Sam. If he wasn't sober, then he was doing a decent job of looking it. 

"Sam," Gabriel greeted with a nod.

"Good night?" Sam asked as he pulled out his key and made for his own door.

Something inside him clenched. He'd never seen Gabriel come back with anyone before. Sam had always assumed Gabriel was single, but he'd kind of thought that he was a bit like Sam in that he wasn't dating at the moment. To see him now, all cozy with someone else, made his own cheeks pink. It wasn't heat or embarrassment. No. It was jealousy. That stupid little crush reared its ugly head again, and Sam found that he was struggling to get his own key in the lock so that he didn't have to see it. He didn't want to think of them stumbling into Gabriel's apartment, wound around each other, and that they'd probably fall into bed. Gabriel was probably great in bed. So they would fall in bed together, and Sam would go to his alone and trying hard not to imagine what it might be like to be that person on Gabriel's arm.

"Great night," Gabriel affirmed, and turned the knob to open the door slightly, "you, uh, you have a good night too, okay?"

Sam snorted in spite of himself and shook his head to get a few strands of hair out of his face, "Yeah. I'll try."

They went into their respective apartments, and Sam did his best to turn on music or a podcast just in case there was something he could hear coming from next door. He went to bed, alone, and only felt a little guilty when his hand crept down under his boxers as the thought of Gabriel pressing him against the door and kissing him filled his head.

--

The conversation slowed a little. Outside, the storm still raged. Sam could see the trees swaying in the wind, and every so often lightning still lit up the sky. It wasn't as much as before, but down the rain came down in sheets against his window so hard he thought he heard the glass rattle. It was a constant almost hiss that filled the silence between himself and Gabriel as they sat together in the candlelight. They were still in their same places, on the couch with a few inches of space between them, but Sam had relaxed a little. Gabriel had been telling him about some art show he'd gone to recently, and the sound of his voice had lulled him to that point of not so much being tired but just content. He was content to listen, to watch Gabriel talk, and he smiled as Gabriel stretched his arms over his head. The shirt he wore rode up a bit, exposed the skin of his belly, and Sam's eyes were glued to the sight. He licked his lips, unthinking, and when Gabriel settled back against the couch he met Gabriel's gaze with slightly guilty look. 

Gabriel didn't say anything, but he'd noticed. Sam had the feeling Gabriel noticed a lot more than he let on.

He opened his mouth to speak, but at that moment another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and a second or two later was another one of those thunderclaps that made the walls shake. Gabriel jumped, his whole body moving, and instinctively Sam reached out a hand. Their fingers tangled together, and Gabriel squeezed hard. His eyes were shut, and he was clearly forcing himself to take deep breaths. Sam squeezed his hand back, just to show Gabriel that he wasn't alone, and they stayed like that for a second before Gabriel opened his eyes. They were looking at each other. Neither of them spoke, but it was as though Sam could feel the conversation flow between them. The hand that was wrapped in his squeezed again, but it was more gentle. If anything, it was more like a question. Gabriel's eyes were a little wide, and Sam squeezed back again in answer.

Sam pulled a little at the hand he held, and Gabriel moved in tandem with it until he was leaning against Sam's side. He nuzzled his face against Sam's shoulder, and Sam leaned down the bury his nose in the loose golden curls at the top of Gabriel's head. His hair smelled nice. His shampoo was almost herby, but it was fresh and clean. Gabriel's cologne was woody and fresh too, and now that he was closer the smell filled Sam's nose. It was intoxicating in ways that the beer wasn't. Instantly all of Sam's senses were overcome with Gabriel. His heart started to pound again, but this time it wasn't out of fear. He liked this. He liked it a lot.

"It's okay," Sam soothed gently, and squeezed Gabriel's hand one more time before he let go and curled his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, "I've got you."

"I'm really glad you invited me over," Gabriel murmured against Sam's shirt, "I think I'd be a mess right now if I was by myself."

"You and me both."

Gabriel arm curled around Sam's middle, and he moved even closer. His weight pressed against Sam's side, warm and inviting, and Sam hugged him tight. he closed his eyes, breathed in the scent of Gabriel's hair, and held it. Even if they never did this again, if Gabriel never set foot in his apartment after this, Sam would never forget this moment. he'd never forget the feeling of Gabriel curled up against him, arm around him, and his face buried in Sam's shoulder. He'd also never forget the surge of protectiveness that went through him. In that moment all he wanted was to make Gabriel, and himself for that matter, feel better. Less alone. Less scared.

"Jesus," Gabriel said after a moment, and Sam opened his eyes as he felt a finger prod against his stomach, "what are you made out of? Marble?"

"Uh-" Sam started, but couldn't find the words. All he could do was shrug.

"Your abs are hard as a rock."

"I do a lot of sit ups?" Sam said, and Gabriel lifted his head to meet his eyes.

"I can tell," he said, and a ghost of that smile was back.

"Thank you?"

"No, no," Gabriel said with a shake of his head and another gentle poke to Sam's stomach, "the pleasure's all mine. Trust me."

--

"Oh, fuck," Gabriel sighed.

It was late. It was too late for him to be up, but sleep had eluded him all night. Gabriel had tried tea, tried a hot shower, and had listened to about ten minutes of four meditations that were supposed to help calm his mind. Nothing helped. He lay in bed, annoyed at not being able to sleep, and staring at the ceiling. The fan rattled lightly overhead, and Gabriel was suddenly even more annoyed. Normally the sound of it didn't bother him, but at the moment he wanted to throw a pillow up there to make it stop. That was probably a bad idea. 

His hand rested over his stomach, curled slightly, and Gabriel considered the feeling of skin against skin. He'd kicked off the blankets a while ago in attempt to regulate his body temperature, but that hadn't helped either. Now he was just lying in the middle of the bed, in his boxers, amid the chaos of the sheets and comforter. His hand twitched, and almost as if moving on it's own it slipped under the waistband just under his wrist. He wasn't even horny, not really, but the first brush of his fingers against his cock felt good. Jerking off was supposed to help with sleep, right? Maybe that's what he needed. A quick orgasm, then off to dreamland. In, out, good. He could work with that.

 Gabriel wrapped his hand around himself, and gave one slow stroke. He kept his grip light, but heat slowly moved through him anyway. His eyes slid closed, and he mentally started to rifle through his usual catalogue of material. There was more than enough porn in his mental library that he could use for inspiration, or remembered trysts that still stuck out to him, but as he tried to focus on one of them it was like none of them felt right. He could feel himself getting harder, hand moving easily under the cotton material, but his mind just kept pulling up blank. Surely there had to be something he could use to get himself off. This was a problem that rarely, if ever happened to him.

A mental image came to him, unbidden, and Gabriel sighed again. In his mind's eye he saw broad shoulders, brown wavy hair, and hazel eyes that always seemed to be looking deeper into Gabriel than he was used to. The pace of his hand picked up, and Gabriel squirmed a bit against the sheets. He saw strong arms, muscle moving as they flexed, and huge hands. God, those hands would feel good on him. They could probably rest on his hips and meet around his lower back with fingers touching. And, fuck, if those long fingers didn't turn Gabriel on. He made a soft sound, and felt a spurt of precome start to slick the way for his hand.

Yeah, that was the ticket. Gabriel could absolutely work with this. The fantasy spooled outward. In it, Gabriel was the one his back with those strong hands holding him down. Warm lips were against his neck, and as he flicked his wrist at the tip of his cock he imagined a gentle bite against his ear. He groaned softly, lower lip between his teeth, and squeezed his cock a little tighter. Just like that. That felt so fucking good.

The fantasy changed. Now the hand on his cock wasn't his own, and it made Gabriel squirm again. He imagined a rough palm that was only slightly unfamiliar, and how that hand would feel gliding up and down over him. His legs shook, and Gabriel let go of himself just long enough to push his boxers down and kick them off the bed. If he was going to do this, he wanted to have the whole fantasy. He touched himself again, closed his eyes, and was suddenly enveloped against that broad chest. A mouth was on his, and Gabriel moaned against the invisible tongue that was shoved roughly between his lips. He heard soft sighs and gasps, but wasn't sure if they were coming from him or the man looming over him.

"Sam," Gabriel whispered, and in the fantasy Sam smiled down at him. 

He pictured Sam grabbing his legs, pulling them up by the knee until his feet hung in the air. Sam was still leaning over him, touching him, but in that slightly omniscient way he could see Sam lining up his own huge cock and pushing it into Gabriel's fluttering hole. It was so fucking hot. Sam slowly sank into him, thrusting back and forth slowly until he was fully hilted, and Gabriel's back arched off the bed. Yes. That was what he wanted. He wanted Sam from 410 pinning him to bed and fucking him into the mattress. Gabriel's hand moved faster in time with the imagined thrusts, and he whimpered. It felt so good. Sam felt so good.

"Fuck me," he whimpered into the dark, "please. Need you to fuck me."

The Sam in his mind was spurred on by that. His hips pistoned back and forth, nailing Gabriel's prostate on every thrust, and he bent low to murmur in Gabriel's ear.

"Wanted you so bad," Sam told him, "wanted to fuck you the first time I saw you."

Oh, but the Sam in his head was so good at dirty talk.

"Would have bent you over the couch, let the movers watch, and made you come on the clean carpet," Sam went on, "made you scream so loud the neighbors would call the cops."

"Fuck," Gabriel moaned. His orgasm was close. He could feel it building.

"Take it just like that. I'm gonna make a mess out of you."

"Yes," Gabriel rasped, both in the fantasy and out of it, "give it to me. Sam, give it to me. Please, I need it."

Sam kissed him, cock still moving inside of him, and that was when Gabriel came. His fist clenched, wet heat streaking over his fingers to drip onto his stomach, and his whole body tensed. In his mind it wasn't his orgasm, but Sam's inside of him. Filling him up. Making a mess out of him. It was enough to send shivers down Gabriel's spine, and he let out a weak groan as his body relaxed. 

A moment later he came back to himself. The fantasy left him, and he was back in bed alone. Relief flooded him, and with it came the hazy afterglow of an orgasm that was sorely needed. Gabriel let go of his cock. He knew he needed to clean up, but the fuzzy arms of sleep were already reaching for him. With slight roll of his eyes he wiped his hand on the sheet under him, and swore to himself that he'd do laundry tomorrow. Getting up would ruin the moment. He closed his eyes, and as sleep took him another kind of fantasy drifted across his mind. In it there was a body much larger than his own curled around him. Warm breath came in soft puffs against his neck, and there was an arm draped across his hips. Gabriel made a soft, content kind of noise. Sam would be so warm to sleep next to. He had to be. He would be warm and strong and comforting, and the gentle movement of his chest against Gabriel's back would send him to sleep. He was already dozing at the thought, and he drifted off in the imagined arms of Sam from across the hall.

--

They were still looking at each other. Gabriel's hand was pressed flat against Sam's stomach, and he was staring up into Sam's eyes. The flickering light played across Gabriel's features, but the warm brown of his eyes never changed. The look he wore was soft around the edges, and Sam could see just the barest hint of that smirk he'd gotten so used to seeing. It wasn't quite there, thanks to the latest clap of thunder, but Sam could feel it simmering. Actually, in that moment, he could feel a lot of things simmering.

His gaze dropped below Gabriel's eyes, to his lips, then back up. Almost in answer, Gabriel did the same. Sam wrapped his arm a little tighter around Gabriel's shoulders, his fingers grabbing harder at the bicep under his hand, and they both shifted to face each other a little better. They moved in tandem, in sync, and soon Sam had his arm around him and they were nose to nose. Sam's heart was pounding. It wasn't he fear of the dark that made it do that, though. No, this was anticipation. He could feel something crackling in the air between them, and it felt as though they just needed the smallest spark to set things in motion. What that spark was? Sam had no idea. All he knew was that he wanted it.

Gabriel's gaze dropped back down to his lips, and then there were two hands fisted in his shirt. Sam took in a breath, held it, and a second later they both moved forward until their lips met. Sam's eyes slid closed, and he reveled in it. Gabriel's lips were soft and warm. he tasted a little like the beer he'd been drinking, but under that was just the taste of him. Just like the scent of his hair and his cologne, it intoxicated Sam. It was so easy to lose himself, and he sighed into the kiss as he pulled Gabriel closer to him.

The hands in Sam's shirt let go, and they roamed over his chest and up to cup his face. Gabriel pushed his tongue past Sam's lips, and there was a noise that sounded like a half choked moan between them. Sam was too lost in it to know which one of them made that sound, but it was a good one. It made him part his lips, suck on Gabriel's tongue, and he wound his other arm around Gabriel's waist. They were fully wrapped around each other now. They kissed like they needed it to live, and the sound of the rain on the window and low grumble of thunder outside only made it feel more intense. Sam's senses were full of the man in his arms: taste, touch, smell, and the sound of him making little contented sighs against Sam's mouth. It felt so fucking good. How many times had Sam imagined this? How many times had he pictured what it would be like to kiss Gabriel and have him kiss him back? His fantasy had nothing on the real thing. This was so much better than anything Sam could dream up on his own.

He moved without thinking. Sam pulled Gabriel closer, and then there was a knee on either side of his thighs as Gabriel easily climbed into his lap. Their mouths never parted, the kiss still going, and Sam slid his hands up under Gabriel's shirt to feel the warm skin underneath. It made it easier to touch him this way. Sam wanted to touch him so badly. he wanted to feel every inch of skin available to him and then some. His hands rucked the thin shirt upward, pulled until it got caught around Gabriel's shoulders, and it was only then that the kiss stopped long enough for Sam to pull it over Gabriel's head and gently toss it to the floor beside the couch. Then Gabriel's mouth was on him again. He kissed like it was a fight he wanted to win. Gabriel dominated Sam's mouth with his own, and all Sam could do in return was run his hands up Gabriel's stomach to his chest, over his shoulders, then down his back to keep him close.  

Gabriel was smaller than Sam, that much was obvious, but now that he was pressed so close and Sam had his hands on him he could feel just how solid Gabriel was. He was softer in areas than Sam was, but something about that only made the heat that was steadily running through Sam's blood burn hotter. Sam loved how soft Gabriel's skin was, how his muscle moved under Sam's hands as he swayed in his lap, and how his fingers brushed oh-so gently across Sam's cheeks. It was all consuming. Sam had expected a kiss from Gabriel to be good, but even though he was the one currently holding Gabriel in his lap, it was Sam that felt as though Gabriel was devouring him. Had he been waiting for something like this to? Had Gabriel...wanted him? Had he wanted Sam the way Sam wanted him? Any other time he would have dismissed the thought entirely. There was no way that someone like Gabriel would ever want someone like Sam. And yet here they were. They were on Sam's couch, and Sam couldn't imagine anything better.

His hands smoothed back up to Gabriel's chest, and he brushed his fingers through the light dusting of chest hair that curled above Gabriel's pecs. It wasn't too much, just enough, and something about it drove Sam even more wild. He pressed his palms against Gabriel's skin, felt the fluttering heartbeat under one of them, and as he pushed his tongue into Gabriel's mouth he caught both of Gabriel's nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. Sam tugged, rolled them slightly, and Gabriel moaned into his mouth. Fuck, that sound was so hot. Sam did it again, just to hear it, and Gabriel squirmed in his lap. Sam could feel that he was hard under those sweatpants. They didn't exactly leave much to the imagination, and Gabriel rolled his hips until their cocks rubbed together with a few layers between them. Then it was Sam's turn to groan. He was so turned on he couldn't see straight. Not that it mattered. His eyes were closed.

Sam tugged at Gabriel's nipples again, and Gabriel gasped against his lips. He was breathing hard, and as Sam held them in his grasp a soft whine bubbled up from somewhere deep down in Gabriel's throat.

"You like that?" Sam asked breathlessly, and Gabriel nodded without a word. 

Then they were kissing again. Only this time Gabriel's hands were tugging at Sam's shirt, and they had to part again a second later for his to join Gabriel's on the floor. Now they were chest to chest, and Sam wound his arms back around Gabriel's waist so that he could feel them pressed together. His hands splayed across Gabriel's lower back, fingers brushing the waistband of his pants, and then slid lower to cup his ass. He grabbed a handful on either side, and now he was the one who could guide Gabriel's slowly rolling hips up against his own. They both moaned, and Sam felt a hand tangle in his hair as Gabriel pulled him closer and practically thrust his tongue down Sam's throat.

It wasn't enough. Making out like teenagers on the couch was great, but Sam wanted more. He wanted so much more. Outside, the rain still came down in noisy sheets, and occasionally lightning lit up the room. Neither of them noticed. They moved together, rolling and swaying, and Sam had to fight to pull his lips away so that he could kiss his way along Gabriel's jaw. That hand in his hair pulled hard. it hurt a little, but it also sent little electric sparks down Sam's spine. He kissed and nipped, laid claim to that angular jaw that had driven him mad for the last few months. He wanted to taste Gabriel's skin on his tongue, and he made his way up until he could suck Gabriel's earlobe between his lips. 

Gabriel shuddered. He rolled his hips hard against Sam's and the hand not in Sam's hair gripped at his shoulder. Sam could feel his chest moving in shallow pants, and he bit down just a little in order to hear that whine again.

"Fuck," Gabriel hissed, and dropped his chin so that he could press soft kisses against Sam's temple, "please. Sam, please."

Sam hummed, a sound he knew Gabriel could hear softly between them, and he felt Gabriel shiver again. He wanted to growl. He wanted to tip them off to the side and press Gabriel down into the couch so that he could kiss every last inch of him. He wanted to settle between his thighs, pull off his pants, and taste the cock that was trapped and begging for attention. Sam's attention. So he tried to give it, and he moved one hand from Gabriel's ass to press against the front of his sweats. He cupped the hard cock that had been rubbing against his own, and gave it a slow stroke from outside the slippery fabric.

Gabriel pulled at Sam's hair, pulled him away from his ear and then Gabriel kissed him again. He kissed him hard, and then golden eyes were open and staring into Sam's with a hunger Sam had never seen someone look at him with before. 

"Take me to bed," Gabriel said, and even though his voice shook Sam knew a demand when he heard one.

All Sam could do was nod. His mouth was dry, suddenly, and he gave Gabriel a slow smile before he kissed those lips again. It was a sweeter kind of a kiss. It was an affirmation. He'd take Gabriel to bed alright. He take him to bed, and hopefully they'd have the night of their fucking lives.

They practically poured themselves off the couch. Gabriel got to his feet first, and held out a hand to pull Sam up with him. There was the thought to pull Gabriel to him, to kiss him again and pull him, lips against lips, until they got to the bedroom. But there was the matter of light. Sam hadn't put any candles in the bedroom yet. He'd expected to eat and stay in the living room until it was time to go to bed. Well, now it was time to go to bed. So they each picked up a candle, Sam took one of Gabriel's hands in his own, and they wordlessly made their way back to the pitch black doorway. At that point he hardly noticed the dark. Gabriel set his candle down on the dresser opposite Sam's bed, and he set his own down on the table beside it. The good thing about all of this happening during a power outage was that he didn't have to bother with giving a tour. Everything looked different in the dark anyway, so it wasn't as though he was going to be showing off any of his things to the man currently half naked in front of him.

Sam stepped into Gabriel's space and curled his arms around him again. This time, Gabriel rested his hands in the crooks of Sam's elbows, and they kissed with only slightly less of the fire they had before. Gabriel's face was upturned, and this gave Sam the little bit of leverage he'd wanted so he could be the one to lick into Gabriel's mouth and explore the taste of him. He felt more than heard Gabriel sigh. It was a content kind of noise, and it warmed Sam to his core. Gabriel was enjoying this. He was enjoying Sam kissing him. That was fucking thrilling. All those long months of guiltily lusting after the man, and he was sighing into Sam's mouth like he'd been doing the same thing across the hall.

The kiss broke a moment later, and almost on cue they both started to pull and kick their pants off. Sam's was a bit more involved with his belt and fly, but Gabriel's were in a pool around his feet in an instant. In the low candlelight Sam could see his cock, hard and jutting out from his hips, and his mouth watered. He wanted it. he wanted to touch it. To suck it. He wanted to do anything and everything Gabriel would let him do. He shoved his pants and boxers down off his hips, and when they were in a similar puddle he stepped out of them and reached out to pull Gabriel to him again. This time he pressed a hand to Gabriel's lower back, and kept the other free so that he could guide Gabriel backward and down until they were lying sideways across the bed. Like that, with his golden curls splayed out across Sam's comforter, Gabriel was beautiful. Sam could imagine him done in stained glass in a church somewhere. He looked like an angel if it weren't for the lust in his eyes.

Gabriel's hands rested on Sam's shoulders. His eyes were wide and dark, and he looked Sam up and down again like he wanted to take a bite out of him.

"Sam," he breathed, "you-you're...you're so fucking hot."

Sam could feel heat fill his face, His blood was already pumping hard, but that heat had nothing to do with it. There was the urge to curl in on himself, look away and fight the compliment, but instead he leaned down to bury his nose against Gabriel's temple and kiss his cheek softly. Four words from Gabriel had him blushing like a virgin. Just four. They'd just been practically dry humping on his couch, and now Sam was feeling more than a little shy. Not embarrassed, not really, but the fact that Gabriel said that to him made something flutter in his chest.

"You're pretty fucking hot too," Sam murmured, and caught Gabriel's earlobe again.

He kissed his way back to Gabriel's lips and they stayed like that for a long moment. The heat between them started to rise again, and before too long their hips were pressed together and rolling against one another. The slow drag of Gabriel's skin against his own felt amazing. Sam could feel their cocks rub together, and it made him twitch. This was it. He had Gabriel in his bed like he'd imagined so many fucking times, and now he could finally replace fantasy with reality. 

Sam leaned back to open the drawer in the bedside table. It had been a while since he'd had cause to fish for lube and condoms, but they were still there. Ready and waiting. Sam dropped the bottle of KY onto the bed, and it rolled until it hit Gabriel's shoulder. A couple of condoms came next, and they fell to the bed beside Sam's pillow. He wasn't exactly sure how all of this was going to play out just yet, but if the way Gabriel looked at him was anything to go by...Christ Almighty. He leaned back down for another kiss, and Gabriel's arms wound around his neck. Hands tangled in Sam's hair, and they lost themselves in it again. 

This time Sam had space. His lips roamed down Gabriel's neck, to his shoulder, and Sam sank his teeth just under Gabriel's collar bone. A whimper followed, and Sam licked gently to soothe the bite before he kissed his way lower. The hands in his hair tugged and scratched at his scalp, but that only made him want more. He loved the way Gabriel moved under him, squirmed when Sam's lips found somewhere sensitive, and the noises he made? Every little whine or groan sent shockwaves through Sam. They all sounded like they were coming up from the depths of Gabriel's fucking soul, like Sam was pulling them from somewhere hidden, and he thrilled every time heard it. Sam stopped at Gabriel's chest, buried his face in the sparse curls there, then moved lower to catch a hard nipple between his teeth. Gabriel sucked in a sharp breath, and when Sam tugged gently Gabriel whimpered and his legs spread wider. Yeah, he clearly liked that. Now Sam knew it, and he was going to do it every chance he got.

"Oh God," Gabriel moaned.

The tip of his tongue rubbed over the nub, and Gabriel shivered again. His back arched a little off the bed, and Sam slid his hands up under him to keep him stretched that way. He sucked, first gently then harder, then moved to the other one to give it the same treatment. Gabriel squirmed, though Sam wasn't sure if it was in a bid to escape the sensation or get more of it, and he pulled at Sam's hair again. Then Sam mouth started lower again. There was a part of him that wanted to take his time, taste every bit of skin he could, but there was another voice in his head that urged him along faster. Sam's mouth was watering with the knowledge of what was coming, of where his mouth was headed, and he settled himself between Gabriel's open thighs as he kissed at that soft stomach and sparse line of golden curls that went from Gabriel's navel to his groin.

"Want you," Sam breathed, parted his lips to lick at the bead of precome that dripped from the tip of Gabriel's cock.

"F-fuck."

Sam sucked him into his mouth, and he moaned at the feeling of it. Gabriel was so hard he was throbbing between Sam's lips, and his hips bucked as Sam licked at him. Again, Gabriel's back arched off the bed and he made a strangled noise that sounded like a shout that was caught halfway between his chest and his mouth. Sam bobbed his head, pushed himself down lower so that Gabriel's cock filled his throat, and he could feel Gabriel twitch against his tongue. The scent of Gabriel cologne was back in Sam's nose. So was the scent of Gabriel's skin. it clung to him, hung in the air, and Sam's mind was filled with the fog of it. There was nothing but Gabriel's cock in his mouth, the smell of him all around, and the noises Gabriel made filling his ears. There was nothing but the taste of him. Just Gabriel. In the dark, with the storm screaming outside, there was nothing beyond Gabriel in Sam's bed and the sensation of him filling every sense Sam had.

Gabriel tried to pull at Sam's hair, tried to move him in the way he wanted, but Sam remained steadfast and as in control as he could manage. He sucked Gabriel nice and slow, long motions of filling Sam's throat and then nearly pulling off of him at the tip, and he loved the push and pull they had together. His hands cupped Gabriel's ass between him and the bed. He squeezed at the meat and muscle, and Gabriel moaned loudly. Maybe there would be bruises in the shape of Sam's fingers there in the morning. He didn't know. He did know that it kept Gabriel still enough for Sam to torture him.

Then he let go and flailed upward for the bottle of lube that had rolled down to Gabriel's hip. With all of his squirming Sam thought it might be lost in the covers, but it was easily grabbable. He took it, flicked it open with his thumb, and  pulled it back down. Unfortunately he'd need both hands for this. He let go of Gabriel's ass, squeezed a generous dollop onto his fingers, and set the bottle aside so that he could press a now slick finger between Gabriel's cheeks as his mouth still moved over his cock. He wanted to hear more of the noises Gabriel made. he wanted to know what it felt like to sink his fingers inside him and make the man scream his name. He wanted to feel him, open and loose, and hear him beg for Sam's cock with that quick witted mouth of his. Sam wanted to fuck him. He needed to fuck him.

Gabriel's thighs open wider in invitation. They were spread around Sam's broad shoulders, and with his clean hand he grabbed for one of Gabriel's knees and let it rest beside his head. It opened him up a little more, and Sam pressed a finger inside. Gabriel gasped, and Sam moaned around the cock in his mouth at the warmth and tightness he felt. He rocked his finger back and forth, a gentle goading to make Gabriel relax to take him better, and a moment later Sam's finger slid in up to the second knuckle. He crooked that finger, found Gabriel's prostate, and rubbed at it sharply until a shout left Gabriel's lips. Sam's mouth was full of drool and precoma, and Gabriel's cock was a mess from it. Then Sam added another finger, teased him as he tried to scissor them open, and Gabriel squirmed hard.

"Sam- I can't," he panted, "Please. Gonna come if you keep doing that."

And that was the question. Sam could suck him off right there. he could make Gabriel come and then fuck him into the bed until Sam came himself. He'd be able to hear Gabriel whine in overstimulation, beg for more even as he wanted it to stop. Or he could not do that. He could pull his mouth away and let Gabriel come with Sam inside him. The thought made another rush of heat flow through him, and Sam lifted his head so he could look up at where Gabriel was stretched out above him. 

Even in the candlelight Sam could see a blush that went from Gabriel's cheeks to his chest. He was breathing hard and practically trembling with the impending orgasm that he'd just warned Sam about. His whole body was tense, and his eyes were screwed shut with his hands still tangled in Sam's hair. He was a fucking vision. If Sam wasn't a hundred percent sure he was awake at that moment he might have thought this was another wet dream. It was, only this time it was his dream made flesh. Gabriel was, for all intents and purposes, Sam's fucking wet dream. And he was in Sam's bed and pleading with him to stave off his orgasm for another moment. 

Sam surged upward and caught Gabriel's mouth in another hungry kiss. Gabriel wound himself around him, legs wrapped around Sam's waist and his arms around Sam's shoulders. Sam tried to brace his weight on one arm, but Gabriel hugged him so tightly that most of his weight rested on Gabriel's chest. The kiss was sloppy and heated, wet with their tongues swirling around each other, and absolutely fucking perfect. Sam did actually growl then, and he caught Gabriel's lower lip between his teeth before he bent his head and sucked at his pulse. Gabriel whimpered, and his hips rolled again as if to get the friction that the loss of Sam's mouth denied him.

"Fuck me," he begged against Sam's hair. "fuck me, fuck me, fuck me."

There was no arguing with that.

Sam caught Gabriel's legs and shoved them back until his knees were almost at his chest. Gabriel was practically folded in half, but like that his ass was fully exposed and his wet and fluttering hole glistened in the candlelight. Sam's cock throbbed. He'd been dripping and twitching this entire time, and ran his hands along the backs of Gabriel's thighs as he stared down at him. The man was a feast. he was ready to be fully taken, devoured, and he was still begging Sam in soft whines and sighs as Sam reached for one of the condoms and opened it with his teeth. He made short work of rolling it over his cock, and another squirt of lube had him completely ready. he leaned forward, the head of his cock rubbing against Gabriel's hole, and when he started to press inside he watched Gabriel's mouth fall open in silent shout. 

He was so fucking tight. Tight and warm and wonderful. Gabriel clenched around him, hissed as Sam slowly sank inside of him inch by inch, and Sam groaned loudly as Gabriel's ass practically sucked him in. This was so much better than any late night masturbatory material he'd ever come up with. Nothing would ever be better than filling Gabriel up, and hearing him gasp and sigh Sam's name over and over again. Sam rocked his hips, carefully pushed his way inside, and when his hips sat snug against Gabriel's ass he dropped his chin and let out a breath. Every twitch of Gabriel's muscle threatened to throw him over the edge. He hadn't realized just how hard up he'd been until now. It had been months, if not longer, since he'd last got laid, and it had been since Gabriel moved in that Sam's one and only desire had been him. he felt his orgasm try to take him, abut every breath he took pushed it off. He couldn't come yet. Oh, how he wanted to, but there was no way he was going to embarrass himself like that. it didn't matter that Gabriel could probably make him come without even doing anything, let alone by squeezing Sam's cock so deliciously with that pert and gorgeous ass, Sam wanted to draw this out for as long as he could. he wanted to enjoy it for as long as his body and fraying nerves could take it.

"Feels so fucking good," he rumbled, and canted his hips backward.

"Yes," Gabriel gasped as Sam thrust forward and back, "just like that. Yes, fuck yes."

It felt like Sam's insides were melting. Or on fire. Both. Every nerve was a live wire, and all of his sensation was focused on his cock as he thrust hard and deep into Gabriel's willing body. He was so tight, so hot, and so fucking perfect. he couldn't help it as his thrusts grew harder, and soon Sam was grunting in time with his hips as he fucked Gabriel with all the pent up need that had been festering inside him for so long. The mattress creaked, the bed frame shook, and Sam was more than sure that his neighbors on every side would be able to hear it. Gabriel wasn't quiet either. He let out every moan and cry that took him, and Sam was drowning in it. He wanted to hold him down, force every last noise he could from Gabriel's lips, and fuck him until they were both sobbing in ecstasy. 

"Harder," Gabriel panted, "wanna feel you."

Sam fucked him harder. Sam bent over him, forehead to forehead, and snapped his hips until Gabriel's heels were almost kicking him. Gabriel's nails raked fire down his back, gripped hard at the muscle of his shoulder blades, and ripped hot red lines down his spine. He babbled Sam's name over and over again,  head thrown back against the onslaught, and Sam tried to kiss his cheeks with unsteady lips. he was going to come soon. Gabriel was going to come soon, too. Sam could feel it. He could feel the way Gabriel's body clenched and squirmed. His cock leaked and swayed in time with Sam's thrusts, made a mess of their stomachs, and  every time Sam's skin touched him he whimpered again. They were both so fucking close. Sam couldn't stop even if he wanted to. His blood was roaring in his ears as he moaned Gabriel's name against his cheek.

"Sam!" Gabriel squeaked, his voice high and tight, "please! Please, I'm fucking begging you-"

His whole body moved, and Sam could feel the wet splatter of Gabriel's come between their chests. It painted both of them in the hot realization of Gabriel's orgasm, and Sam doubled down to fuck him harder as he rode his way through it. Under him, Gabriel writhed and swore. it almost sounded as though he were cursing Sam for it, but the desperation in his voice said otherwise.  He fell back against the mattress, Sam still fucking him with the same wild abandon as before, and Gabriel's eyes rolled back in his head as the wash of pleasure took him. Sam's own orgasm crested a moment later, and he buried his cock in Gabriel's ass as deeply as he could while he twitched and spilled inside the condom. 

"Fuck" he hissed, "Gabriel, fuck! Just...fuck!"

He was going to float away. Plain and simple. Sam felt completely untethered to his body as pure bliss filled his veins. His arms shook, and it took every ounce of strength to not collapse on the body under him. he rolled them to the side so they could melt into bed, and Sam pulled Gabriel to him so he could bury his face in that soft, golden hair. Gabriel kissed at Sam's neck, his chest, wherever his lips could find skin, and Sam held him close as they tried to remember how to breathe. They were both shaking. Sam had come so hard his vision whited out for a second, but it seemed Gabriel was right there with him. he made soft little sounds against Sam's chest, noises of contentment, and when their heartbeats slowed to a reasonable thrumming Sam smoothed a hand up from Gabriel's flank to his cheek. He tipped Gabriel's head back so he could look down into that handsome face, and he leaned in for a kiss.

Gabriel kissed him back sweetly. It was soft and languid, and full of sighs. Gabriel's arm wound around Sam's chest and slowly the kiss devolved into just the press of mouths together. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by a crackle of thunder, but Gabriel didn't even flinch. He stayed happily curled in Sam's arms and pressed against his body.

"We should get cleaned up," Sam murmured against Gabriel's hair, "or it's going to be gross later."

"Don't move yet," Gabriel said softly, "two more minutes."

Sam smiled, kissed the top of Gabriel's head, and gave them five.

After a cursory wipe down, Sam tossed the damp washcloth into his laundry basket. Gabriel was stretched out on his back with his head pillowed on one arm. Watching him. Watching him move around the room in the candlelight. Again Sam felt a little shy. He always hated this part. It was decidedly the most unsexy part of sex. Gabriel still looked at him like he wanted to eat him up, though, and when Sam crawled back onto the bed Gabriel shifted and pulled him in with both arms around his middle. They kissed again, slow and soft, and Sam nuzzled his nose against Gabriel's neck.

"Stay?" he asked softly.

"Wouldn't dream of leaving."

They didn't bother with blankets. Not at first. Their skin was warm enough that they didn't need them. As the night wore on, though, Sam tugged the covers out from under them, and Gabriel curled up against his chest as Sam tangled their legs together and wrapped his arms around Gabriel's shoulders. Sleep came quickly. It didn't matter that the storm hadn't even eased off yet. Sam didn't mind the dark, and it seemed as though Gabriel didn't even notice the thunder and lightning. He slept soundly, contentedly, and didn't even wake up once.

The next morning Sam woke early. his eyes stayed closed, and he listened hard for the regular hum of the air conditioning or the steady click of the fan. Nothing. It was silent. The power was still off. He fought the urge to groan, to cover his face in the blankets, and curse. Thankfully it wasn't supposed to be too hot, the storm having chased away most of the heat of the season for a few days, but that didn't mean he had to like the feeling of stale air. All he wanted was a cup of coffee. That wasn't too much to ask, right? After weathering all that...weather the night before, he should be allowed that much.

At least he didn't wake up alone. The sun seemed to have only just come up, and the room was bathed in the grey light of the lingering cloud cover. Sam was nestled against Gabriel's back, and he opened his eyes to see a mop of soft, golden curls across the pillow. That made him smile. Gabriel's chest rose and fell like he was still asleep, evenly and deeply, and Sam let out a soft huff as he curled his arm a little tighter around Gabriel's chest. In some ways he half expected the man to vanish overnight. Like it had all been a dream. Gabriel was still in his bed, though. He was still in his bed, deliciously naked, and Sam was curled around him almost like an octopus. It felt good. It was warm in a good way, and comforting. Sam liked the feeling of Gabriel's breathing against his own chest. He liked the little noises he made as he slept. He liked everything. 

He settled back against the pillow. There was no need to be up yet. Work had told them the day before that they would close until the full extent of the storm's damage was dealt with. Odds were good the building had no power either, so it would be stupid to leave to just sit in the dark at his desk. Sam was where he wanted to be anyway. Eventually Gabriel would wake up and they could see about whatever came next, but for the moment Sam was happy right where he was. He tucked his chin against the back of Gabriel's neck and breathed in the scent of him. The smell of sex had faded for the most part, so it was just the smell of his skin now. God, he was so soft everywhere. Sam wanted to run his hands over Gabriel's skin, feel him under his hands, and not stop. That would probably wake Gabriel, though, and Sam didn't want to do that. Not just yet.

Gabriel stirred not long later. Sam could feel the way he breathed change, and Sam knew he was awake. He didn't say anything. Neither of them did at first. Maybe Gabriel was coming to terms with the fact that he'd spent the night in Sam's bed with him. He had no idea what Gabriel's usual nights and mornings after sex like that were usually like. Maybe he wasn't one to stick around. He'd seemed happy to stay, though, so maybe not.

"Power's still out?" Gabriel asked, voice husky and low from sleep.

"Mm hmm," Sam affirmed.

"Shit," Gabriel muttered, and covered Sam's hand that was pressed against his chest, "there goes morning after pancakes, huh?"

"Is that something you usually do?" Sam asked, and pressed a kiss just below Gabriel's hairline.

"No," Gabriel answered, and rolled over just enough so that he could look up into Sam's face, "but I thought it might be fun with you."

That made Sam's heart skip a beat. Already, Gabriel was entirely too handsome that early in the morning. His still-sleepy face wore a warm expression, and he looked completely relaxed in Sam's bed and in his arms. Like the night before, it almost felt like he belonged there. Like he'd stayed over a hundred times before, and this was just another morning in a long line of mornings that they'd woken up together. Sam wished that were true. He also wished, because a hundred mornings had to start with one, that this was the one. Maybe Gabriel would wake up in Sam's arms a lot more often after this.

"I may have a solution, though," Gabriel offered, and tipped his chin up to catch Sam's lips in a soft kiss, "if you'll let me up."

"Do I have to?" Sam asked with a smile, and kissed Gabriel back, "because I'm not sure I want to."

"It's worth it. Trust me."

Sam grumbled, but he did let Gabriel up. He watched as Gabriel got to his feet, quickly slid his sweatpants back on, and held up one finger in the same 'just a second' gesture as he'd done last night before he darted out of the room. It left Sam alone in bed and wondering just what the hell Gabriel was doing. His power was still out too. Unless the man had a camp stove he was hiding, there was no way they were going to be able to do anything about breakfast. Then he heard the sound of his door lock, and the door open. Sam's heart started to pound. Gabriel was leaving. Had Sam scared him off? No. No, he said he'd be back. Trust him. Gabriel said to trust him. That didn't stop Sam from holding his breath until he heard his door open again a minute or so later.

Gabriel came back into his room looking triumphant. In one hand was a bottle of cold brew coffee, and in the other was a plastic container with three bakery muffins inside. Sam's eyes widened, and he let out a laugh. Gabriel had been right. It was worth it.

"Holy shit," Sam laughed, "I thought you said you weren't prepared."

"For the storm? Hell no. Morning treats after a night of debauchery? Always."

Gabriel came back over to the bed and set the muffins on the table next to Sam. The candle from the night before had burned out at some point, and sat cold in the glass container. Gabriel smiled, leaned in to kiss Sam's cheek, and wiggled the bottle in his hands.

"Cups?" he asked," for breakfast in bed? If you're into that, I mean."

"Cabinet by the sink, and I am very into that."

Gabriel was gone and back again in a flash. He held two of Sam's mugs in one hand and the jug of cold brew in the other. Once he was back in bed, Gabriel poured them each a mug, and Sam sat up to inspect what kind of muffins Gabriel had brought over. There were two blueberry and a chocolate, and he gave Gabriel a questioning look as he took the mug that was offered to him.

"Pick whichever one you want. I like both," Gabriel told him, then leaned down to set the jug on the floor.

Sam picked one of the blueberry, Gabriel took the chocolate, and they leaned back against the pillows to enjoy their breakfast together. As they ate, Gabriel stayed pressed against Sam's side. Even with balancing a mug of coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other, he leaned his cheek against Sam's shoulder. That was nice. If Sam hadn't had his hands full he would have wrapped his arms around Gabriel's shoulders. Once he had a hand free, that was his first priority. It seemed like Gabriel had nowhere to be either, and they were content to stay right where they were. Sam didn't mind. He'd stay in bed all day if it meant Gabriel was with him. 

When the food was gone and two cups of coffee each were had, Sam took the mugs and put them back on the table next to him. He curled Gabriel back in his arms, and they lay back down. Sam kissed him. He didn't care that he tasted like coffee and pastry, either. Gabriel did too, and Sam actually kind of liked it. They kissed slow and steady for a while, and when their lips finally parted Gabriel lifted a hand to brush Sam's hair out of his face so he could cup his cheek.

"If the power's not back on by tonight, do you want to stay at my place?" Gabriel asked.

Sam smiled, nodded, and leaned in to kiss him again.

"Even if the power actually is back on, do you want to stay at my place?" Gabriel asked between kisses.

"Hell yes."

--

Three months later, Sam renewed his lease. Six months after that, Gabriel didn't. At least the move was easy, though. It was just across the hall.