Chapter Text
GABRIEL
Gabriel blinks up at Sam’s towering frame. Sam’s just gaping at him, with this… this fond look on his face. As enticing as that look is… he’ll save the devouring for later. Because time is very much of the essence right now.
“Little help here Samsquatch,” he squeaks.
Damn, he’s a little winded. Kinda landed on the crown jewels too… That… that definitely stings. But no time to worry about it for now.
Sam crouches down beside him and places those gorgeous big hands on his body, gently lifting him up off the ground while Charlie disentangles his feet from the wires. Those bulging biceps. He draws in a breath through his nose as he stares at the flexing muscles. No. No time. Gotta control himself. He gives Sam a heated look, enjoying the flush spreading over his high cheekbones… Holy cats, he kept the garland on? Damn it but how does he manage to look so adorable and fuckable at the same time? Shit. He’s getting distracted again. Damn this towering pillar of flannel clad sexual fantasy made material… So damn distracting.
He shakes his head to clear it, almost sending the already dishevelled wig flying across the room. He clamps one hand to his head and wraps the other around one rock hard arm muscle, dragging Sam’s startled form in the direction of the bar.
It takes epic levels of cajoling. So much wasted time. His brother flips him off 5 times and even tells him to go suck his own dick. He’s not entirely sure how that’s possible. He’s flexible, but not that flexible. But eventually, after a litany of colorful abuse from his brother, Amelia actually decides to be helpful, removes her hand from the back of his pants and drags him over.
Eventually… and with hardly any time to spare, they’re all in position. Gabriel quickly sets up the camera to take several shots, hopefully capture the turn of the new year as well as the group selfie. Hopefully get Dean-o in the shot before he has a chance to disentangle himself from Cas and make with his promise to hit up the jukebox with some ‘real’ music. It’s more likely he’ll actually puke on the jukebox. But Gabriel guesses that’s Cas’ problem. So not his.
He hops over to Sam, takes the offered glass from his hand and settles back into his embrace. He has no idea if all of them are smiling, or even looking in the right direction, but he grins broadly and feels a weird sense of elation as the timer goes off.
“10!” That’s Jo from somewhere to his right. He smiles over at her and joins in with…
“9!” The camera goes off again. He’s pretty sure he was caught with his mouth wide open that time. Gonna be super attractive.
He chuckles through “8!” turning in Sam’s arms to look up into those gorgeous puppy dog eyes. Mmm hmm. Gonna be ravishing this one shortly.
“7!”
Sam’s got an odd look on his face. Like he’s completely dazed and caught up in the moment. Grinning widely down at Gabriel. Looking at him like he’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. Gabriel’s lips part as he just gazes right back. He completely misses “6!” and “5!”.
Sam opens his mouth. Gabriel thinks he’s going to join in, but as the voices around him shout “4!” he blurts it out.
Gabriel stares at him with wide eyes. Did he hear that right? “3!” Because he thought… he really thought for a second that Sam said… that Sam just asked him to move in with him. “2!”.
“1!”
There’s a loud cheering and yells of “Happy New Year!” He barely notices as those around him embrace and kiss and make out loudly. He just stares up at Sam. Blinks. The smile starts to fall from Sam’s face. Woa woa woa. He hurriedly grasps hold of Sam’s biceps.
“Do you mean that?” He asks in a rush, before Sam can look any more crestfallen.
“Y- yes.”
Gabriel can barely hear him over the ruckus around him, but it’s enough.
With a wide smile spreading over his face, heart stuttering out a staccato beat in his chest, he yells, “Hells yeah!”
It’s Sam’s turn to blink at him now, looking shocked and amazed and all sorts of puppyish. Gabriel can’t take it. He really can’t. He reaches up on his tiptoes, grabs the back of Sam’s neck and pulls him down into the first kiss of the decade. It’s rough, it’s not delicate and it’s maybe a little slobbery, maybe a little x-rated. But he cares little for finesse. All he cares about is the tongue down his throat and the hands in his hair. Or rather the person attached to these appendages.
He cares about them. Their right here and right now.
Their future.