Work Text:
After his arresting scent, Gadreel takes in the visage of what his mate is wearing. A conglomerate eye-sore of cerulean flannel PJs with tacos dancing on them with two different colors of gardening shoes, bright pink and a deep green.This paired with a too small, very faded, and holes-at-the-seams Stanford shirt makes a very interesting outfit. Though his outfit is questionable, Gadreel only truly notices the stunning hazel eyes. His face is drawn and pale, making those eyes really stand out. His long beautiful side parted hair is in disarray and he smells heavily like the other Alpha on the scene. At first, he thinks his Alpha is already mated to Alpha Novak, but he’s pleasantly surprised when he is told they are not mates.
It's a relief and Gadreel has to hide a pleased smile from Alpha Winchester.
He doesn’t know why he’s pleased. It’s not like he can do anything anyways. He’s on the job. Alpha Novak is in the throes of an Alpha rage, the young Jack Winchester is injured by some petty thugs, and Gadreel has to focus. He has to focus and become the job again. According to a string of failed first dates, he is always the job. They never tried to really get to know him, though. As the only Omega street cop, Gadreel is the Precinct’s token minority hire. And he’s made aware of that honor every day.
Gadreel Penikett has the “honor” of doing the niche job of soothing feral Alphas.
And what an honor it is… for the past thirteen years he’s been clawed, spit on, screamed at, and growled at. He’s been full body slammed and almost raped. He’s tackled full grown feral Alphas to the ground that were hyped up on drugs and despondency. But he keeps doing the job. He keeps at it because everyone, and he means everyone, told him that there was no way Omegas could be cops.
He’s here to prove them fucking wrong. Screw them and their stereotypes. He’s 6’2” and over two hundred pounds of muscle and spite. His performance on the job is not affected by sexual organs. Fuck you very much.
And even though he’s drawn to Alpha Winchester, his professionalism isn’t going to be affected by coming upon a potential mate.
Though…Sam Winchester surprises the hell out of him. Gadreel reins it in until he’s got everyone in the ambulance and the red clears from Alpha Novak's eyes. This is gonna be one hell of a report he will have to write up, but it's better than tackling Novak into his cop car and hauling his ass to the local psychiatric hospital. His body is thankful for the reprieve from bodily wrestling an Alpha into submission.
In the privacy of his shop, he takes big cleansing breaths. Clearing his nose of the distress from the scene and focusing on Alpha Winchester’s scent. Winchester smells of leather bound books, rich and sweet, just like where he used to hide at his parent’s estate. The books were his greatest friends as a child, kept him company when his parents were jet setting across the world for one inane reason or the other and Gadreel was left behind with “the help.”
Though his childhood was incredibly lonely, with books as his only company… Winchester’s scent doesn’t make him sad. No, it invokes the fond memories of all the adventures he had as a child. The adventures to be had between the pages. Visiting hot dusty lands, swimming with dolphins, crying his eyes out with the boys who wore striped pajamas, and becoming a King in a different world. Winchester’s scent is peaceful and quiets the waves of his raging internal sea.
He’s the lead officer on this case, so he follows the ambulance to the hospital. Following the Alpha that is his and not his. Gadreel fills out some of the paperwork and with a steadying breath, he enters the hospital to take statements from Jack Winchester and Castiel Novak. Alpha Winchester is there, close, familial. He touches them both with such love that it makes Gadreel hunger for that intimacy.
He’s never had that with anyone. Once he presented, his mother’s staff stopped their hugs, stopped their touches on his mother’s orders. It was a sick, twisted, cruel thing. As an adult, Gadreel mourns his childhood. Gadreel’s therapist, Garth, has been helping him work through his emotions, but it doesn’t cure the hurt that is still there. The emotional scarring, causing chasm of insecurities still linger.
All his life, he wasn’t to be touched. He’s never been touched. He was an Omega and was to remain pure for his mate. Always pure. And never quite good enough. His parents were incredibly traditional, old school with old money, and they started the search for a proper mate even before his last year of high school. He was trotted along in front of hundreds of Alphas, but none of them wanted him. He was never enough. And Gadreel’s deficit has been brewing inside of him for a long time, the black hole of hunger and desperation for someone of his own has been growing since he was twelve years old.
It was a prison. A hell residing in a heaven of opulence. He wanted for nothing, material possessions were readily available for his consumption. But what Gadreel really hungered for, what he needed, was love.
At the first legal independence Gadreel got, he bolted. Broke from his gilded cage and ran clear across the country. Joined the Academy, passed with flying colors, and fought and won against the discrimination to be allowed to be placed in the field. He’s worked hard to get where he is, and paved the way for other Omegas to follow in his footsteps and not be stuck behind desks because of their secondary gender.
His professional life is somewhat prosperous, but his personal life is shit. Choosing to leave his toxic parents behind, but as an only child that was severely abused he has difficulty making true friends, Gadreel lives a lonely life. No one really gives him a chance. It’s as if they know he is broken. That he’s rebelled against being a good dutiful Omega. Alphas and Betas he meets at bars or through dating applications find out that he’s a cop and bolt. Other officers don’t want to be seen dating ‘The Omega Street Cop’ and don’t care to abide by the requirements of his job. No touching, no scent marking, and definitely no sex.
Is dating even worth it when so many limitations are put in place? Gadreel thinks so… some days.
Most days, he can convince himself it is worth it. He’s worked thirteen long years. He’s been given awards and is recognized by the Committee of Omega Right’s chapter in California. But other days, he is desperate for companionship. He’s so lonely that he doesn’t know how not to be lonely. Is there another way to live? He has his greying black lab, Smallsie, but he isn’t a substitute for a true life-long companion. Not a replacement for a mate, for babies, for having someone to talk to after a long day at work.
At least, not to Gadreel. Not when he so desperately wants to be promoted and finally have the freedom to have a partner. He’s taken the tests, proved himself worthy of being a detective, but his superiors are stalling on the paperwork. He’d like to believe they aren’t being malevolent… but as the months pass, he isn’t too sure.
His blue uniform is heavy on his shoulders today. The bullet proof vest underneath his blouse makes it difficult to cool his blood, even sitting next to his internal white wicking cotton, it still makes him sweat. Gadreel should be able to keep his cool. He’s experienced, not in the way of people or intimate relationships, but he’s experienced in donning a shield and protecting himself. He should be able to protect himself from the possibility of just having to walk away from this Alpha. The tactical belt, laden with the tools of his trade, digs into his hips and he knows he’ll have indentations and bruises when he takes it off. He wonders what new bruises he’ll have after being so close to someone like Winchester.
But Winchester is all kindness and politeness. He’s soft and thoughtful when Gadreel takes his nephew’s statement and when he is done with his official duties, he follows Gadreel out into the hallway at a respectful distance. His mismatched shoes squeak on the lacquer of the floor.
“Thank you,” Winchester rushes out, pleased and stepping closer to Gadreel, “I just… thank you so much for your involvement today. I would and I hope it's not too weird, but I’d love to buy you a cup of coffee? Please, call me Sam, too?”
Friendship. Gadreel can use a friend. He’s desperate to be touched by the warmth of friendship. Even a tempting one as Sam Winchester. “Yes, I’d like that,” Gadreel answers back, easily and he watches Sam’s face break out into a smile. It’s beautiful and instantly warms Gadreel’s heart.
Perhaps, being friends with a potential mate will work out fine. He’s heard that even true mates can be friends. Perhaps Sam Winchester can be exactly what Gadreel truly needs. Perhaps Sam is in need of a friend as well.
.
.
.
.
Sam is the epitome of everything he’s ever wanted in a companion and more. He’s intelligent, witty, sarcastic, and respects Gadreel and the Omega population in general. He’s literally perfect for Gadreel and his internal Omega rails at him constantly for not making Sam his Alpha.
They go on dates. To the movies, to aquariums, to plays, out to dinner. They do everything together. All the domestic activities that pull on Gadreel’s heart, from grocery shopping to buying new furniture for his apartment. And Sam, throughout everything… is so good to him. Respects Gadreel’s tricky situation at work and doesn’t bring it up. He doesn’t highlight that they don’t touch, that they don’t kiss… he just goes along with it. Even though Gadreel knows the desire is there.
Along with their platonic dates, they do things that are temptation incarnate. Going to the gym, working out so closely to each other that Gadreel can practically taste the salt on Sam’s skin. His Alpha wears the smallest clothes, side open tank tops and tiny shorts. Practically naked before Gadreel’s eyes, he can see the beads of sweat roll down a bicep and catch in the valley of Sam’s arm. They attend a unisex gym and locker rooms, they change out in front of each other, shower next to each other, and get dressed shoulder to shoulder. A centimeter between them, but never touching. Never touching.
Sam says nothing… but Gadreel wants.
He wants Sam Winchester under his skin. In his body. Fuck into him and take him apart to mold him into a new man. Breathing and stealing his air from Gadreel’s lungs and swallowing down the moans and the quiet praise that falls from his own lips. Gadreel wants to card his fingers through that fucking hair and grab at its roots to anchor his lips forever against his own. To punish and bruise, to worship with reverence, and to never let go.
They aren’t true mates, no, they are something different and yet more… something broken within themselves that is only knit whole when together. He’ll never be able to replace Jessica, he has a different place in Sam’s life. She is something altogether separate from Gadreel. He is all fire, Gadreel sees it in Sam’s eyes. The hunger that he evokes in the Alpha, the leash he keeps on himself is remarkable.
If only Sam would ask. If only. Gadreel would touch his fucking toes and spread out bare for the taking and Sam could own him. Right then, right there. But Sam won’t, Sam has his internal Alpha on so tight a leash that Gadreel fears the leash will fray. Ripping and exposing the threads of his control.
And oh, does Gadreel test them. Not intentionally, not with malice, but he too is wearing thin on his leash. Railing against the cage that he has created and trapped himself in. He hungers for so much, wants so much, that he can’t stand being so close and so far away.
But he’s scared. Gadreel is so terribly frightened of those wants. What they mean as an Omega.
He’s got to remind himself that he’s committed to his job and because of it he isn’t the typical Omega. He’s not even sure he actually deserves Sam. His mother made sure that was beaten into his brain. If only he was like the typical dainty Omegas, sweet of disposition and content to stay home then someone would mate him.
Instead, Gadreel is a warrior. Hungering to take the world between his teeth and conquer the demons that wrong his subgender. Even with his zeal, the ghost of the monster she created stalks around in his mind and breathes down his neck, micromanaging his movements and apologizing for all of his imaginary wrongdoings.
He’s got himself so tightly wrapped in his emotions,desires and insecurities that he can barely see out of the hell landscape that his mind has created.
“... so you think Castiel is seeing someone?” Gadreel questions, trying to distract them both from their inner demons.
Though, if you asked him… Castiel sometimes moonlights as Gadreel’s outer demon too. His Alpha always smells like Novak. He knows Novak’s scent as much as Sam’s, trees and mountain air blend pretty well with the richness of leather bound books. Some days, it makes him incredibly angry. Thinking that Sam rolls around in bed with Novak and then comes and sees him. He knows that is not the case, the two Alphas just share a space, share clothes, and are extremely affectionate with one another. Sam considers Novak a sibling, and Gadreel is proud that his mate doesn’t adhere to toxic masculinity… but it still rubs Gadreel raw.
“I think so. He’s been on his phone quite a bit, I think it’s Cain, to be honest.”
Gadreel almost weeps with relief. Cain. Not his Alpha but another. He’s known Cain for years, and knows he’s not particular about subgenders unlike a lot of other Alphas. He’s the perfect distraction for Castiel. A perfect mate for Castiel. Someone strong and steady, who has experienced the same things as Sam. “Another Alpha,” he hums, seeking inner peace and to quiet his treacherous heart. “I respect that. Cain is a beautiful man. Castiel is lucky to have him.”
“What?” Sam’s voice lashes out, as the Alpha visibly bristles and puffs up in anger. It’s like watching an angry cat poof up it’s hair and hiss. It makes Gadreel’s own anger rise in response, it’s not like Sam has anything to be jealous of, Gadreel isn’t the one who has another man’s scent on his skin.
“Sam,” his words come out sharper than what he intends, “I’ve known Cain for years. I will not bow down to your ridiculous Alpha postering. So keep yourself in check or I will be forced to remove you from the premises.”
It’s a bluff. Gadreel would never kick him out. Wouldn’t dare to. He loves Sam. He wants to reach out and touch him so badly. To let his Alpha know that Gadreel is his and only his. To open the cage and to fly free like the black birds tattooed on his ribs.
He’s just… so scared, so frightened to reach out it’s debilitating. He’s scared of himself. Scared of what he’ll do to Sam.
Gadreel worries if he allows himself one touch he won’t be satisfied until he has consumed Sam fully. There won’t be anything left of his mate, Gadreel would have sucked him into his black hole of nothingness. He’s too much. He needs too much. He’ll exhaust Sam. He’ll just be the marrow of his bones if Gadreel lets this vicious monster of need and want loose.
Frankly, he’s got too many monsters. As his mother’s voice ringing in his ears reminds him, reverberating so loudly that it becomes overbearing… her voice repeating that he should be lucky that any Alpha would take him off her hands, that it will be difficult to find him a mate because of his masculine build and his ridiculous interests. That he was less than and too much at the same time and to be quiet around Alphas and to know his place.
“Of course, Gadreel,” Sam demurs, the fight leaching from his frame as he curls into himself. He’s not worthy of this man, so true and stalwart. In this moment, Sam also smells so strongly, so full of life and virility. Gadreel could drown himself in it.
Worried that he may have triggered a rut in Sam, by overriding his suppressants with emotions, Gadreel steps closer and smells him again. He smells so good, but also ashamed and horny. His arousal is practically filling the air between them. “You smell stronger, you are still taking your suppressants, right? Not going into a rut?”
“Still taking them, feel fine,” Sam grunts, taking a breath and stepping farther away from Gadreel, “You get changed out, I’ll order from your favorite pizza place. Did you already pick a movie?”
He doesn’t want Sam to turn away from him. It tempts Gadreel to chase after him. “You pick tonight, Sam.”
His mate (but not mate) nods his head sadly, “Of course.”
Sam shuts the door behind him, leaving Gadreel alone in his room with his canine companion. Smallsie lets out a large long sigh and nestles his nose between his front paws. In turn, Gadreel lets out a sigh of his own while changing into his worn sweatpants and cotton t-shirt. He could cry. He should send Sam away but everything in him wants him near. He’s a mess and he finds himself addicted to the bittersweet torture. When he exits the room, it is to find Sam perched on his couch with his hands in hair, his whole frame bowed over on itself.
Gadreel’s chest aches and he quickly crosses the room to sit close. But as soon as he goes to reach out to touch Sam, to throw his entire career and way of life out the window and to give into his black hole of emotions, Sam straightens and flashes a winning smile, “I ordered your favorite, margherita with prosciutto. The documentary about the Saqqara tomb is queued up.”
“Thank you.”
At that moment, Gadreel decides they can’t go on like this. Tomorrow morning, he’ll insist on seeing the Chief. To go over his Captain’s head, and persuade the Chief of Police to reevaluate his application to become a detective. This life he’s made, it’s just not viable and Gadreel has to take control of it now. He will demand a new position. He’ll see Garth about his insecurities and conquering his demons. He’ll take one step at a time. He doesn’t want to end up pushing Sam away before they ever truly started.
“You’re welcome, Gadreel,” Sam sighs and leans back into the couch, his face still holding a soft smile.
After the movie, Sam leaves with hesitance in his eyes and reluctance bleeding from his frame. But his Alpha smiles and says he’ll see him again soon. Gadreel knows that in a normal situation, this is when they’d kiss goodnight… but none of that happens. Sam just smiles softly and waves, and Gadreel has the insurmountable task of shutting the door behind him.
He hates saying goodbye. He wishes Sam could stay with him. He wishes he was normal. He wishes he could explain to Sam why he is the way he is… but he has to keep quiet about it. He wishes he could have Sam and not be the mangled bird he is, stuck forever in his cage.
With a heavy heart, but with plans buzzing in his head to confront his Chief and his personal demons, Gadreel prepares for bed.
He’s pleasantly surprised when his phone rings, thinking it’s Sam. But it’s not and Gadreel is sidelined. Woodenly, he hears everything that Castiel is saying and protests it all on frozen lips. When all is said and done, and Castiel bids him a goodnight, Gadreel ends up chucking his phone across the room, hearing it shatter doesn’t make the pain go away, but it elicits a small sense of satisfaction as he screams through his teeth. His poor Smallsie runs into the other room, tale between his legs and Gadreel can’t call out to his companion over his own choking anguish..
Intellectually, I do believe he understands that you are not rejecting him and he understands the situation…
Gadreel wasn’t rejecting him at all… he wasn’t. God. He knew this would happen. Knew that he was too broken of a creature to have something so pure.
.
.
.
He spends the rest of the night in a fit, his own rejection and anger at himself cloying and choking. He ends up curling his body into the couch, where Sam usually sits, and just ruminating himself to sleep. Gadreel’s body is sore and he wants to spend the next three days on that stupid couch, but he has a shift today and so he drags himself in.
He wanders around the precinct lost in his purpose but ends up at the offices.
“Whoah, Officer Penikett, what car dragged you in behind it this morning?” Duma, one of the office workers asks as he walks past her desk.
“Girl, shut your trap, can’t you see he’s hurting?” Missouri snaps back, her sweet accent evaporating in a harsh bite. She’s his favorite. They’ve worked together ever since Gadreel first started. Through the years, they’ve grown close. Gadreel loves Miss Missouri. She has morphed from an acquaintance to his maternal figure, and as the administrative assistant to the Chief of Police, Missouri has a lot of clout amongst the Officers. “Sweetheart? Are you ok?”
He doesn’t know how it starts, but tears just cascade down his face and he cannot stop them. Missouri ushers him into her empty office and onto a plush couch. Gadreel just sinks into it as he cries and cries.
“Sugar, shhhhh.” Missouri tries to hush him, giving him tissues and nervously looking at the door. Waving people away and then finally closing it with a loud slam.
“I came to see the Captain,” Gadreel chokes out between his sobs.
“Sugar, Gadreel, sweetie, you ain’t seein’ nobody but me like this,” Missouri instructs, her voice full of maternal love, “You have someone to call? Take you home? What about that nice boy you’ve been seein’, huh?”
But her sweet sympathy just makes Gadreel cry harder. He has no one. All he can think is that he had Sam and now he’s lost him and he’s alone in this world, again.
It takes him a long time to calm down, too long. But his wounds are deep and when the tears dry… he is flayed open.
Missouri sits next to him, eyes full of concern. “Gadreel, talk to me.”
“I… I don’t even know where to start?” Gadreel whispers, broken.
“At the beginning, baby,” Missouri reaches out and holds his hand, making Gadreel’s eyes well up with fresh tears.
Wiping his face, Gadreel is careful of how strongly he holds Miss Missouri’s hand. He doesn’t want to crush her. “I haven’t been held or touched with affection since I was twelve years old. Before I presented.”
“O’ Gadreel,” she hiccups a little sob, and then to his surprise she pulls him into a hug. Gadreel’s body just melts into her, into the swell of her breasts and the meat of her arms. She just wraps him up and holds him there. The Beta smelling like her laundry detergent and sweet perfume. It’s like coming home and tears leak from his eyes into the cotton of Missouri’s shirt. “My sweet boy, my sweet Gadreel. God damnit. Why didn’t you say anything? What about that boy you’ve been seeing? Sam? You told me about him.”
Reluctant to leave her arms, Gadreel sits up and wipes his nose. Cognizant of not wanting to snot all over Missouri’s blouse. It’s a stupid thing to think about, but Missouri isn’t letting him go. Now that she knows, she hasn’t stopped touching him, petting him. Soft carressess down his arm and on his back.
“We didn’t… he was really respectful that I wasn’t supposed to smell like other Alphas,” Gadreel murmurs, feeling stupid.
“‘Reel,” Missouri tuts, stroking his hair from his face and cupping his cheek, “No job is worth this pain.”
He can’t stop the broken noises coming from his chest, his throat. “I know.”
“Then what are you going to do, ‘Reel? You can’t live like this, keeping yourself detached from the world. It’s a cruel requirement. And they are cruel and evil men trying to keep you down and keep power over you for it. It’s like livin’ in a cage of your own making, sugar,” Missouri questions, her thumb brushing his tears away as they fall. She pats his cheek softly and brushes his hair with her fingers, things a mom would do for her babies. When her hand drops, it drops to his arm, just there, soft and present.
“He broke up with me,” Gadreel whispers, “Well, his sort-of brother called me and told me he was going through rejection sickness. Said he needed space.”
Missouri hums in disapproval, but Gadreel knows that there are two sides of every story. He doesn’t fault Castiel for taking care of Sam… he wishes it was him taking care of Sam. He can only imagine what it feels like to Sam, what he thinks… it’s the worst, Gadreel is picking his job over him.
“It’s only partly the job,” Gadreel whispers, truth breaking out, “I… am afraid. I’m afraid of what it means to be with someone truly. I want it so badly. Want Sam so badly, I might smother him.”
“Gadreel Penikett,” Missouri exclaims, exasperated and dumbfounded, “That boy is going through rejection sickness for you. Whatever is going on between the two of you. He’s buying it. He wants you, baby. You ain’t gonna smother him with your wants and needs.”
“My mother—“ Gadreel starts and Missouri tsks loudly, but Gadreel continues, “My Mother told me that I would be lucky to ever get an Alpha. That I was too much, too manly, too needy.”
“Your mother is a bitch,” Missouri snarls, hand holding his arm tightens, “you listen to me, ok? She doesn’t know you anymore. She has no hold over you now. You raised yourself. You are your own man. A strong independent Omega and you are wonderful. If you want this Alpha, you have him. He sounds like a keeper from all these dates you’ve been on.”
“He may not want me now,” Gadreel woodenly states.
“Well, I don’t believe that. Give him some space to get his head on straight. Take the weekend and call him, ok? Say, Sunday morning? Get up, get some coffee at your favorite shop as a treat and call him?”
“I’ll do that,” Gadreel smiles, feeling a little better.
Standing and then digging through her desk, Missouri pulls out a makeup wipe. “Clean your face, sweetheart, everything will be ok. I’ll get you in to see the Chief today.”
.
.
.
They were in bed all weekend.
Gadreel fumes and wraps himself in the mantle of his own internal misery, watching them get their coffees. Eyeing the steadying hand on Sam’s back. He wants to break it. Castiel has everything Gadreel has ever wanted. The easy affection of true love. All that he wants is wrecked before he could even open his mouth and explain.
He wants nothing more than to melt into Sam Winchester right now, his Alpha looks like a poor kicked dog. And Gadreel… he’s the source of his misery. Gadreel wants to cry out but he keeps everything bottled in. Rolling his lips and trying to quiet the jealousy that’s rushing through him. It is his place to touch Sam… instead he watches Castiel usher him out of the coffee shop and put him in the car. He wants to rush after Sam and tell him, he’s handling it, everything will be fixed and they can be together… but he doesn’t, because he’s frozen at that moment.
And when he watches Castiel drive away, he sinks down within himself.
When he gets home, with a new phone in hand, but still a little broken from their stilted exchange. He texts Sam, a quick, Hey, it was good seeing you today. My phone has been broken for the past few days.
Sam instantly replies; it was good seeing you too.
.
.
.
Garth sits next to him, close but not touching, and his proximity is comforting. He’s been attending sessions with Garth since the plucky Beta opened his office ten years ago. He doesn’t attend consistently anymore, just as needed.
“It’s been quite some time since I last saw you, Gadreel,” Garth comments quietly, placing his notebook aside and getting comfortable on the couch with Gadreel, “Five months? During our phone check-ins you’ve been extremely positive about your situation, what's been going on here recently that has prompted your return to therapy? Holidays?”
“I am at a crossroads, of sorts,” Gadreel sighs, “My insecurities and my demons-”
“Gadreel, my apologies for interrupting you… but yeah, let us not call them demons, ok? It gives them too much power. Let’s call them negative thoughts?”
“Okay. My negative thoughts have become intrusive once again,” Gadreel finishes softly.
“What are these thoughts about?” Garth asks, his eyebrows pitched down in thoughtfulness.
“My worthiness, being an Omega, being an Officer, dating,” Gadreel answers, sighing but Garth gives him the ‘go on’ face so he continues, “I’ve been dating this man, Sam, for the past five months. I thought he could potentially be my life partner, but uh, I believe he is in the process of calling it off?”
“You are unsure?”
“I am unsure, he said he was going through rejection sickness and he needed space completely out of the blue,” Gadreel quietly answers, staring at the pattern in Garth’s rug. It’s paisley, terracotta red and bright turquoise, happy and pleasing.
“Nothing to prompt this rejection sickness?” Garth questions, suddenly intertwining his hands on his lap. Garth always interlaces his fingers when he’s trying to solve a puzzle, when he’s thinking hard and wants to so desperately help. Gadreel knows this, knows Garth’s tells, and it makes him smile softly.
“We’ve been dating for the past four months, but haven’t been physical. He’s been respectful of my position in the precinct and the odd nature of my job requirements,” Gadreel answers.
Thoughtfully taking a pause and dissecting Gadreel’s statements, Garth finally questions, “Have you told him that you think of him as a potential life partner?”
“I haven’t, no,” Gadreel answers, feeling a little sheepish and stupid.
“Have you expressed your affections for him any other way?”
Dawning realization slams into Gadreel and his voice shakes when he answers Garth, “We spend a lot of time together.”
“That is a love language, yes, quality time. But there are other love languages; acts of service, receiving gifts, words of affirmation, and physical touch. Would it be wrong of me to assume that you’ve been relying on quality time to express your feelings?”
“I fucked up,” Gadreel groans, his eyes shuttering and head tilted back. Shutting out the world and the onslaught of his stupidity.
“Gadreel, no, see this as a learning experience and go from there. Ok? It’s not that you fucked up, you are learning how to navigate interpersonal relationships and it’s not easy. Even I, counselor that I am, stumble in my relationships,” Garth’s soft voice coaxes him back to reality, and he meets his eyes with a soft smile on his wiry face.
“I’m thirty-one, I should know this,” he admonishes himself.
“Not particularly,” Garth starts but stops when Gadreel scoffs, “Not particularly, Gadreel. You suffered from a neglected and abusive childhood. It’s going to take time and patience to get your bearings. We’ve come a long way together, don’t let your desire to punish yourself for imaginary sins cause you to stumble in your growth.”
Gadreel grunts at him, rubbing his face with his hands and drops them. “I’m worried, scared really, that I’m too much for him.”
“Too much what?”
“Everything and nothing.”
It’s Garth’s turn to grunt in disapproval, but it comes out more of a covered up scoff. “What? I can’t have an opinion because I’m your therapist? You would make someone very lucky but instead you’re catastrophizing. You’re assuming the worst of yourself and this situation before it even starts. Letting the insecurities that were drilled into your head rob you of your potential happiness.”
“So, what should I do?”
Garth levels him a look, he knows this look because it’s a Garth version of; ‘I cannot tell you what to do, why are you asking me?’
“I have to give him the chance, for him to decide his opinion. I need to be honest with him,” Gadreel slowly states. And when Garth nods in encouragement Gadreel continues, “About everything.”
“Yes, that would be a wise decision. Healthy communication is the pinnacle of all relationships. I am operating under the assumption that the two of you spend a lot of time together but there isn’t a lot of intimate conversation happening?”
“And…intimate conversation looks like?” Gadreel asks, it feels like he’s pulling teeth but his time is almost up.
“Hopes, dreams, fears, your past, your present, and your future. Beyond the ‘how was your day?’ And more of ‘what made you smile unexpectedly today?’” Garth states and looks at the time, “that’s all we have, but let’s set up another appointment, ok?”
“Yes,” Gadreel sighs, feeling a little bit more like he knows how to navigate these waters, “that sounds good.”
Holding his hand out for permission, Garth touches him softly. It is the first time Garth has ever touched him in ten years of being his therapist. “Gadreel, you are my first patient. My longest standing patient. And not as your therapist but just as plain ol’ me, Garth , I have to tell you…I think you are amazing. You are kind, compassionate, loving. I am happy to know you. So, don’t sell yourself short? Ok, man? You have a lot to offer and that Alpha, if I’m assuming correctly, knows it too.”
There is a lot of love lining his face and his voice not affected by his soliloquy. “Thank you.”
“I love seeing you, but I dislike it at the same time. So, let’s schedule a lunch session, ok? Little less formal?” Garth questions patting him on the arm and giving him a goofy smile.
Gadreel smiles back, feeling infinitely lighter than he had before.
.
.
.
Thanksgiving passes and Christmas arrives, he hears from Sam, but things are not as they were before. Sam has his walls up and Gadreel cannot scale them. Gadreel is left in the dark, pushing for changes within himself while trying to express those changes to Sam is incredibly difficult. But he continues on, because his relationship with Sam is worth it to him.
In the quiet moments, he misses Sam. He misses Sam’s companionship and his laughter. Gadreel misses his prankster nature and his goofy happy dances. He misses Sam’s love of healthy foods and his total inability to cook. Gadreel misses his love of documentaries and his secret love of professional wrestling. He loves that Sam made him want to be more, be better, to engage with the world. There is a hole in his life, where Sam filled in the spaces.
Gadreel offers to do overtime, wanting the distraction and the routine of being at work. It’s comforting in a way. Donning his policing garb protects him. It’s the normal holiday chaos, people speeding, domestic fights breaking out, and Christmas trees catching on fire. Gadreel loses himself in each call and momentarily forgets his own woes.
His personal phone rings, it’s Sam, so he answers it quickly and can’t keep the smile from lighting up his face. O’, how he has missed Sam Winchester. It is so good to hear from him, but Sam is slow to answer, “Sam? Merry Christmas.”
“ Hey. Hi! Merry Christmas,” Sam basically blurts out, obviously nervous.
Gadreel smiles ear to ear, leaning his elbow on the door and looking around. He’s in an empty parking lot of a fast food joint. Laughing and then clearing his throat, “Have you been well? Having a good holiday?”
“ I’ve been alright, you? ” Sam asks him and Gadreel is tempted to be honest, that he misses Sam and he’s been miserable without him.
“I’ve been working. Overtime. Holidays are incredibly hard for a lot of people and so I volunteer to be on call. Actually, on duty in my shop right now,” Gadreel responds, he looks around the quiet of his police car and lets out a long sigh, “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you,” Sam responds, the words whooshing out, “So much.”
Gadreel can’t stop the humorless laugh passing his lips, feeling a little unhinged and desperate, “ Then why have you been so distant these past few weeks?”
“Because you keep me at arm’s length and I’m drowning.”
Gutted. He’s completely and absolutely lost. He doesn’t even know where to start or how to process that statement. He can hear Sam’s cries and broken hiccups through the speakers of his phone.
“You’ve broken me, Gadreel. And I can’t. I can’t live the way you need me to. Keeping me on, but not actually being with me. I love you, but I can’t live like that anymore. Cas… Cas has been talking to Dean this entire time. He’s going to be with Dean. With him here and you… you… there is nothing for me in California anymore.”
No. no no no no no no no.
This is not happening. Scrambling, Gadreel tries his best to explain, “Sam… It's not intentional, please believe me. Just don’t… I didn’t want to intentionally hurt you. I’m just- I’m just waiting on my superiors to approve my application. I’m fixing things, Sam. It should be any day now.”
Sam lets out a watery broken sound and Gadreel waits, waits for his Alpha to say more. Finally, it's a small, “ That’s good, Gadreel. ”
With his vision blurring with tears, Gadreel shuts his eyes and swallows the pure pain. Raw and broken, he whispers, “I can’t convince you to wait a bit longer, can I?”
“You can. But I might not believe you.”
Gadreel is not above pleading at this point, but he can’t say anything… His words are thick on his tongue and are caught behind his teeth. All he can do is pour his heart into saying, “Sam.”
His Alpha is quiet. So quiet. This is breaking them both and it’s all Gadreel’s fault.
“Just, I’ll see you when I get home, okay? This… this isn’t a conversation we should have had or even started over the phone. Not at Christmas.”
Holding fast to that promise, the idea that he can still fix things with Sam. He doesn’t want to let the hope spread in his chest, so he keeps it squashed. Even after he fixes everything, his Alpha may not want him anymore. “Promise? You’ll come home and we’ll see each other?”
“ I promise.” Sam sounds so calm, so sure that it calms Gadreel right down.
This isn’t goodbye, his Alpha is not saying goodbye sounding so calm. Right? Gadreel still has an opportunity to get things right. Sam just said he loves him. Gadreel can’t imagine Sam not being in his life, he loves him, wants him to be his Alpha. Wants to spend his days with Sam, laughing and joking and for them to always end with a kiss.
“I’ll see you then,” Gadreel whispers and when Sam responds with a soft goodbye, Gadreel clicks off.
Silence descends on him, but his mind is so busy. Rolling his lips and wetting them, he twirls his phone in his hand and makes a split-second-decision.
.
.
.
Gadreel invites Sam over, once the Alpha calls him and lets him know that he’s back in town. He tries his best to make some sense of the chaos that surrounds him, but Sam is quick and at his door before Gadreel can push the dwindling pile of empty boxes into a corner.
Gadreel can smell Sam’s melancholy before he opens the door. “Hey,” Sam says softly, face drawn, eyes incredibly sad.
“Hello Sam,” Gadreel says, and pulls him into a hug, surprising the Alpha. He stands there woodenly for a moment, but then is quick to wrap his arms around Gadreel’s waist. They sink into each other and Gadreel soaks up Sam’s scent and the feel of his body. The hints of musky vanilla that he normally can’t smell from so far away, the taut and powerful muscles of his back. Gadreel feels as if he’s come home in Sam’s arms, finally.
He can tell when Sam sees the boxes, because he jerks back from the embrace, “You’re moving?”
“Yes,” Gadreel answers, looking over his shoulder at the boxes, papers, and the pile of things to donate, “I am.”
“Where?” Sam asks, stepping into his living room and petting Smallsie’s head.
“To Sioux Falls, South Dakota,” Gadreel answers, shutting his front door with a resounding click.
“What?”
“I am moving to Sioux Falls, South Dakota,” Gadreel elucidates again, “I have a few houses and apartment complexes to look at. I have also been hired by the Sheriff’s department.”
Sam just stares at him dumbfounded, a blush working up into his cheeks. “You… you are moving to Sioux Falls to be with me?”
“Yes.”
Sam opens and closes his mouth like a fish, his eyes moving from box to box, and he nervously pushes his fingers through his hair. Finally he locks eyes with Gadreel, “I don’t know if I should be happy or sad about this.”
“I would like to think you should be happy?” Gadreel questions, clearly confused.
“I… I didn’t think we could or even if we should continue our relationship before today,” Sam states clearly confused, but he sits down on Gadreel’s couch.
“You love me,” Gadreel says simply, sitting close to Sam, allowing himself to press close as much as he pleases because finally he is free.
His proximity confuses Sam, he looks like a deer in the headlights but his Alpha nods and visibly swallows, “I do.”
“And I love you,” Gadreel says, hand reaching up and tucking Sam’s hair behind his ear so he stops nervously playing with it. “Why shouldn’t we be together?”
“Because… because of your job?” Sam says weakly, his eyes zoning on Gadreel’s hand that is trailing down his arm. Pure love and affection sings in Gadreel’s blood for his mate. Sam’s muscles feel divine under his fingertips, his Alpha is very strong and so gentle, holding himself so still in this moment.
“I quit. And like I said, Sheriff Mills hired me and I’ll be serving as a normal officer of the law,” Gadreel replies.
“What?”
“Do you not want to be with me?” Gadreel questions, hand stilling but not scooting back or relenting his touch.
“I do,” Sam lets out so softly, “But not like before. It can’t be like before.”
Feeling emboldened, Gadreel swings his leg over Sam’s lap and cards his fingers into that soft luscious hair. He settles in Sam’s lap, his Alpha’s eyes are wide and startled, but his body reacts instinctively. Sam’s hands immediately got to Gadreel’s back, pulling him closer. Heat and solid muscle, what feels like miles of it is pressed up against him and it feels like bliss.
“It won’t be,” he whispers against Sam’s lips before he kisses his Alpha. He can feel Sam gasp in shock and it allows Gadreel to kiss Sam more deeply. He’s taken his Alpha by surprise and he worships the lips with his own, working them in the way he’s only imagined. Sam is pliant and hesitant, cautious. He follows Gadreel’s lead and it’s maddening. Gadreel wants only for Sam to take control.
“Sam, please,” Gadreel keens against those lips, eliciting a tidal wave of change in the Alpha. Gone are the tentative kisses of an unsure man, Sam Winchester kisses as if he is trying to consume Gadreel’s soul.
Sam moves him to his will. A hand finding purchase on the bolt of Gadreel’s jaw with his fingers splayed and directing the angle of their kiss, another mapping his back and pulling Gadreel closer to him in his lap. Pressing so close, Gadreel does not know where Sam begins and he ends. He feels the long length of Sam’s arousal pressed up against his, causing a jolt of desire so strongly it makes him dizzy.
Gasping at a particular roll of Sam’s hips, Gadreel looks down at his Alpha in amazement.
“Yeah? You like that?” Sam questions, hands traveling down to Gadreel’s hips and holding him fast there and rolling their hardness together with purpose.
“Yes,” Gadreel pants, a shiver dancing down his spine and arousal making his fingertips tingle. “Yes, Alpha, yes.”
Baring his neck, begging for Sam’s teeth and lips, Gadreel’s silent pleas are met with enthusiasm. Sam’s lips travel from ear lobe, down his jaw, along the column of his neck, to bite down hard on his mating gland. With teeth digging into his skin, Gadreel’s hips stutter against Sam’s.
Nibble, lick, suck. Sam worships his neck, his mating gland, though it is less about reverence and more about tearing Gadreel apart. They kiss messily, uncoordinatedly, until Sam controls and possesses Gadreel.
Shaking, and with arousal singing in his blood, he palms Sam’s clothing underneath his hands, trying his best to remove the cumbersome layers of flannel and cotton but getting nowhere. Sam undresses him, rough hands running up his body to divest him of his shirt. The whip of his leather through the jean loops and the tink the buckle hitting the floor sings to Gadreel. With sure fingers, Sam pops open his jeans and Gadreel sighs at the release of pressure on his cock. Sam touches him there, soft teasing caresses juxtaposed against the near brutality of his lips, teeth, and tongue.
Gadreel arches his back, grinding himself down to undulate in Sam’s lap. Pressing himself where the ache builds… down, down, down into Sam’s lap with little desperate cries. His mate huffs out pleased moans, palming his cheeks through his boxers. He can feel himself slicking and his cock twitching and he’s so fucking desperate.
“Alpha-” Gadreel cries, “Sam, please. Let’s… bed.”
“Gadreel,” Sam huffs and it makes Gadreel still, “You sure?”
Gadreel can’t help to capture those lips into his own, abusing them, letting their tongues pary and roll. He wants this, oh yes, he wants this so bad. He doesn’t care if this is the first time he’s kissed another… he wants Sam Winchester so deeply that he feels like he’s burning up inside from it.
They trip and stumble towards Gadreel’s bed, fumbling with Sam’s clothing and then removing his own jeans fully. Left with only their boxers, Gadreel guides Sam to the bed, crawling up Sam’s body peppering kisses across the warm skin as he goes. He tastes the salt of his skin, smells his antique book scent, flooding all of his senses with Sam. He removes Sam’s boxers as well as his own, watches his mate’s cock spring free of it’s cotton prison. His mate is beautiful naked, all harsh lines and muscle, and his cock is large and in proportion with his body.
Flushed and with intensely pleased eyes, Sam's mouth drops open in a little happy gasp when Gadreel takes him in his hand and pumps him. A soft hmmmm of pleasure rumbles from his Alpha’s chest when Gadreel swirls his thumb over his cock-head.
“That’s nice,” Sam praises, hands petting down Gadreel’s arm and steadying his hand to fuck his fist. His Alpha is quick, desperate in his pleasure, and chases after Gadreel’s hands.
Feeling a tad bashful, Gadreel murmurs, “Just learning.”
“Same as yours, love,” Sam groans, his own fingers trailing down to Gadreel’s cock and teasing the head. It feels too good and Gadreel can’t multitask, his fingers hold tight to Sam and he looks up at the pleased teasing grin of his Alpha’s countenance.
“I-” he starts but Sam just smiles and continues his maddening touches until Gadreel is moaning and his hips are rising and falling in Sam’s hand. His Alpha looks too pleased at this development, in his ability to derail Gadreel with one simple touch. He crowds Gadreel, teases and nibbles at his lips until he’s flipping Gadreel onto his back. Sam is intense, bruising, and Gadreel can only submit beneath his Alpha.
On his back, Gadreel can feel slick escaping his hole and gathering between his cheeks. He’s so wet. Dripping in pleasure. Self-conscious, he breaks from Sam’s lips and looks around at his comforter.
“I’m getting the bed wet,” Gadreel whispers.
“I’d be worried if you weren't,” Sam replies easily, his big hands sneaking around to play with his cheeks. His wetness is audible when Sam’s fingertips dip near his opening hole, the wet squelch so loud in Gadreel’s ears.
“You like this?” Gadreel swallows, feeling a bit stupid. He’s watched enough porn, Alpha’s love wet Omegas. His soft whisper makes Sam stop, hazel eyes meeting his own, and he can feel a shift in Sam, his Alpha slows down in his desperation.
“I do, do you?”
Licking his bottom lip, Gadreel nods, enjoying the fingers near his wanton aching entrance. He pressed back into Sam’s touch, loves it when a finger dips into his entrance. It feels so good. So good. Gadreel fucks himself back onto that finger. One finger, becomes two fingers, becomes three. Soon, he’s gasping Sam’s name and his body is shaking with the desire for release. Sam pulls away, leaving Gadreel in near shock.
“I wanna present for you,” Gadreel begs.
“You don’t have to,” Sam replies, adjusting his body so he lays on his side, hand lazily petting, both warming and cooling Gadreel’s arousal in his blood. He doesn’t understand his Alpha… why aren’t they fucking yet?
“But isn’t that normal?”
“No, ‘Reel, it isn’t for me. I want to see you this first time,” Sam admits softly, hand exploring down the planes of Gadreel’s chest.
“Oh, ok.” Gadreel blushes. They spend a moment in silence, Sam obviously enjoying the feel of his skin underneath his fingertips. He touches and touches, maddening drags and then eventually his lips follow his fingertips. They throw off the comforter and the flat sheet, leaving them to tumble around the expanse of a king sized bed. Sam’s ardor is not cooled, his kisses are maddening and soon… Gadreel forgets all about presenting.
His legs open and welcome Sam between them. Letting his big Alpha nestle between them, tease his opening with the head of his cock and retreat.
“ Sam. ”
“I hear you,” Sam laughs, delighting in the noise of Gadreel’s wetness, taking his cock and fingers and playing. Sam guides his cock between his cheeks, bringing his fingertips to his lips. Gadreel watches with hooded eyes, opening his legs even more widely, arching his back off the bed, and willing his Alpha to enter him.
“ Sam .”
Sam ignores his pleas, instead he presses them close together and pushes Gadreel back down into the bed. He kisses Gadreel where he can reach and travels down Gadreel’s body, open mouthed kisses that are a mixture of teeth and tongue. He sucks bruises into the belt of Gadreel’s hips, massaging his thighs and playing with the hairs there. Gadreel writhes in pleasure, he’s so close to his cock but not near enough.
“Sam?” Gadreel questions, when Sam flicks out his tongue to taste the moisture beading there at his tip.
He feels and hears Sam’s moan, reverberating around his cock as his Alpha captures him in his mouth. Hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard, pumping him and massaging his cock with his tongue and one of his hands. He feels thick long fingers tease his hole and dip in, pumping into him in sync with the pulls of his mouth. Gadreel’s hands find their way into Sam’s hair, carding between the strands and holding on for dear life. Unraveling quickly, Gadreel doesn’t even get to warn Sam before he climaxes into Sam’s waiting mouth.
Shaking and shivering, Gadreel scrambles to pull his mate up. “I should have warned you,” he laments and kisses Sam, tasting the musky salt of his own release on Sam’s tongue.
“No worries, my Omega, I wanted you to come in my mouth,” Sam practically purrs in satisfaction, his cock rutting against Gadreel’s slightly softening one. He continues his mock thrusts, dipping his cock near Gadreel’s hole and teasing himself, gathering Gadreel’s wetness and groaning in satisfaction. “Are you on birth control? I’m clean.”
“Uh yeah, yes,” Gadreel pants, his mind overwhelmed and focusing on Sam playing with his own cock coated in Gadreel’s slick.
“You want to have penetrative sex? If not I really can come like this too. Come all over you, mark you up,” Sam says so politely and an octave lower than his normal voice, it’s almost maddening. He wants to laugh at his politeness, rising up on his elbows to look at all that is Sam Winchester. His Alpha is flushed with arousal, he looks magnificent with his chest so ruddy, big hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Hair askew, skin wet with the sweat of his efforts, glistening along the planes of his corded muscles.
Though he’s come, it doesn’t even touch the deep seated need of wanting. “Let’s have sex,” Gadreel rumbles out making Sam smile with satisfaction. Like a big cat, Sam’s strike is quick and he’s back hauling Gadreel’s body the way he wants. His devouring kisses and strong hands mold Gadreel easily. With his knees practically to his chest, Gadreel praises Sam’s foresight to rotate yoga into their exercise regime all those months ago.
His Alpha takes his own cock in his hand, pressing against Gadreel’s entrance. Soft nudges, then a slow press, every inch entering his body, breeching and filling him up. His Alpha is slow, gentle, and when he’s finally in they both gasp at the sensation.
It’s so different, foreign and full and it feels good and at the same time it strangely doesn’t quite feel right. “I think you should move,” Gadreel whispers out breathless from his own emotions. He needs to urge Sam on, just in case he changes his mind and decides he doesn’t like to be penetrated. (Heat toys are not the same as a real Alpha, his mind deliriously decides.)
At the first slow undulation of Sam’s hips, Gadreel’s mouth drops open. He’s sensitive and he’s riding the narrow divide between pain and divine pleasure. Little murmers of praise spur Sam on, until his Alpha is slowly fucking into him. It feels incredible, every inch massaging and pressing into his channel.
But Gadreel instinctively knows that Sam needs permission to let go, to take and own his body. “Sam, c’mon,” Gadreel moans out, rising and falling and trying his best to urge the pace, “C’mon, Alpha. Fuck me.”
His Alpha’s hips still, but are quick to snap into Gadreel’s heat with such force that Gadreel can feel it almost in his fucking throat. “ Yes .”
Sam sets a bruising pace, hands anchored on the back Gadreel’s thighs, fingertips holding him tight, and his cock pistoning into Gadreel’s channel so powerfully that he’s wringing low throated screams of pleasure from Gadreel. They are loud. Sam moaning out how Gadreel feels so fucking good, he’s made for fucking, and is taking it so good… Dimly Gadreel recognizes his neighbor banging on the wall for them to shut up but it doesn’t stop Sam. Gadreel’s cock is impossibly hard and weeping in the valley of his own stomach but he ignores it.
It’s not until Sam’s knot teases his hole that Gadreel knows what he needs. Knot, Sam, Mate, Alpha , he chants out in gibberish. His Alpha is happy to comply, fucking into him and pressing so deeply that his knot catches and locks them together. Gadreel is practically folded in half, but Sam’s canines graze his mating gland and he moans out when they do.
“Bite,” Gadreel states his Omega taking the reigns, “Fucking bite me.”
“Not yet.” Sam elongated canines scrape against his mark, betraying his innate desires.
“Mate me, bite me,” Gadreel pleads, a hand grasping Sam’s hair pulling him impossibly closer.
“Yes. S'posed to be romantic though,” Sam huffs, teeth grazing Gadreel’s skin. His knot pressing and pulling, and fucking into Gadreel.
“Romantic enough,” Gadreel growls, gathering up Sam’s hair into his fist and smashing their lips together in a bruising claiming kiss. He can feel Sam come, hot and twitching within him and his Alpha gasps at his lips. Sam languishes beneath him, moaning and eventually dragging his teeth back to Gadreel’s neck, fucking his knot into him hard, coming again and again, still pistoning into Gadreel, and climaxing as only Alphas do.
When Sam bites down, Gadreel lets out a hoarse shout, coming from the pain and pleasure of being claimed. It lights up everything in him, stars burst behind his lids and he can only hold tight to Sam, pressing himself more into Sam’s teeth.
When their blood cools, and Sam relinquishes the hold on Gadreel’s neck, they lie together, a tangle of limbs. Locked together and utterly spent, Gadreel curls around Sam while his Alpha pets and nuzzles him. Gadreel is so high on bliss that he may never come back down, he kisses Sam lazily where he can reach, which is mostly the top of his head and temple.
Blood pools at Gadreel’s clavicle and escapes onto the sheets and Sam makes a little noise of distress, “I should have prepared for claiming. Bandages and antiseptic.”
“It’s fine, my love. They are just sheets, they’ll wash. I have all those things in the bathroom,” Gadreel soothes, pushing his Alpha’s hair away from his face.
“We’ll be locked together for some time,” he blushes prettily, “It’s been decades since I knotted someone.” Sam mumbles and shifts, eliciting a hiss and small twitch of an orgasm. “God, that feels so good,” he moans out and smiles lazily at Gadreel.
“It does,” Gadreel responds, enjoying the feeling of just having Sam hard and deep within him.
Quiet settles between the two men, where they just stare at each other and smile. It’s Sam that breaks the silence, “We are mates now.”
“We are.”
“I love you,” Sam says, “I have for quite some time.”
“I love you,” Gadreel says back, parroting, “I have for quite some time, too.”
“Starting fresh in Sioux Falls?” Sam questions, fingers tracing Gadreel’s eyebrows and then his cheekbone in affection. He basks in the affection, hungers for it. His Alpha’s hands trail down his side, tracing the tattooed birds flying from their cage. He seems content to give Gadreel what he so desperately needs.
“Fresh slate.”
.
.
.
Swinging in the hammock, Gadreel and Sam listen to the sounds of their new neighborhood. Back and forth in the cool morning sun with the spring breeze whooshing around their ears. The rising sun warms them both, though they press close to one another under a nest of blankets. They have to start their days, Gadreel to report to the Sheriff’s station and Sam back inside to his computer. Instead, they swing. Listening to the neighborhood kids run around, getting ready for school. Sam places a hand on Gadreel’s lower abdomen, life growing underneath his fingertips.
His mate smiles and kisses him, they are both free.