Sam blinked.

At first he thought it was just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. All he had to do was wake himself up and that would be that.

Except Sam had a pretty well grasp on reality and usually knew the difference between a nightmare or a vision. This… this was too real, too solid to be either.

It was that diner. That fuckin' diner.

Sam jerked out of his chair and twisted around, staring wildly at the very familiar patrons. There was Alice and Greg and- no, no, no, no…

"Wow, you look like hell warmed over."

Sam's head snapped downwards and staring up at him, grinning, was Gabriel. "Hi Sammy."

"You son of a bitch!" Sam said rather loudly, catching the attention of nearby customers. His eyes quickly glanced over the diner. "Where's Dean?"

"Dean's fine!" Gabriel huffed, waving Sam down. "He's back at the hotel, still dreaming of dancing sugar plums."

Sam was fighting to control his breathing. "Then this? This is a dream?"

"Of course it is, silly," Gabriel gestured for Sam to sit. Sam slowly slid back down into that familiar booth, his body stiff and ready for a fight. He was quite aware a fight would be pointless against an archangel, but old habits die hard.

He eyed the knife carefully. "What do you want?"

Gabriel leaned in, dropping his voice low as if spilling a secret. "Right now? Breakfast."

He then leaned back and motioned the waitress over. "Hi, sweetie. May I get eggs, fried potatoes, bacon, and a cup of tea please?"

"Sure thing," Alice grinned, jotting it down. She turned towards Sam. "And for you?"

"I'm not hungry," Sam hissed.

Alice was unfazed. "Get him the same," Gabriel said and waved her off. He gave Sam an unimpressed look. "You should be kinder to the working woman. She might spit into your food."

"I'm not going to give consent," Sam said through his teeth. "And neither is Dean. So you might as well as let me go because your attempt here is pointless."

Gabriel sighed heavily and rolled his eyes. "Who said anything about consent here? Uh? Can't a guy give a free breakfast without getting the third degree?"

Sam glared at him. He wasn't going to play this game. Without another word he stood from the booth and went straight for the door. He ignored Gabriel's indignant "Hey!" and stepped out into the daylight.

And found himself right back inside the diner. He gave a short jerk, confusion overriding him until logic put two and two together. He stared at the arc-angel and stomped over. "Let me go."

"It's very rude to walk out on a person."

"Let me go!"

Apparently Gabriel's patience ran dry. He pointed one finger at Sam and made a quick gesture towards the booth. As if pulled by an invisible string, Sam fell into the booth with a small grunt. His napkin sprung to life, flew off the table and nestled itself on his lap.

It even purred.

"Sonnava-!"

"Calm down," Gabriel said. "Really. Do we have to act like animals every time we meet?"

Sam shot him an ugly look. "Every time we've met, you've tried to kill me and Dean."

Gabriel snorted. "I didn't try to kill you the last time…"

"And you decided to choose this diner, out of the millions of diners I've eaten in, to have a conversation."

"I thought you would want to be someplace familiar."

The arc-angel laughed at the angry expression on Sam's face, held up his hands in a surrender gesture. "Calm down, tiger. It's just a dream. Once you wake up, you'll be back at that crap-hole you call a hotel."

Sam's eyes narrowed at him. "And when will you decide to let me wake?"

Gabriel only gave him a snide smile just as Alice the waitress showed up with their food. Dream-Alice practically ignored Sam's glare at her, simply smiling politely at him as she put his plate down. "I hope you two enjoy," she said cheerfully and left.

Gabriel took no time digging into his food. He placed his own napkin in his lap, cut a little of his egg and blew on it before putting it into his mouth.

Sam stared down at his own plate. Like Dean, he enjoyed the occasional greasy burger and foamy beer. Except Sam prefer to have something light for breakfast. Fruit, tea, and maybe some toast. He avoided the grease trap of eggs and bacon when he could, opting for a healthier choice.

Damn though, did that smell good. His stomach gave a short rumble.

"You can eat Sammy," Gabriel grinned through a mouthful of potato. "It's not going to hurt your girlish figure."

"Do not call me Sammy," he warned. He took up his fork and speared a bit of egg. He analyzed the spongy yellow substance for a moment then ate it.

It was good. It's been a while since he had egg, even longer since he had bacon. Add a little fried potato to that mix and Sam actually found himself enjoying the meal.

Gabriel was staring at him, with that little knowing smile on his lips. He didn't say anything, didn't do anything but stare, chewing slowly on his own food, his eyes watching every bite Sam took. "So this is your master plan?" Sam inquired, picking up his tea to take a sip. "Kidnap me in my dream just so you can watch me eat?"

"Well, the real reason may shock you, so I thought I would calm you first before stating my true reason."

"Yeah, and what reason is that?" He already had a good idea what that was.

"I'm in love with you."

Sam choked on his tea. He burnt his tongue and lips in the process, quickly wiped his chin with his arm. He was a bit embarrassed at his reaction, since clearly the angel was just fucking around with him. "What?"

Except Gabriel didn't laugh at him, didn't grin or smirk. Heck, he even stopped eating entirely, letting his hands to rest on the table in front of him, his brown eyes serious. "You heard me."

Suddenly Sam thought this really was a dream. It had to be; it was too surreal to be truth. Gabriel kidnapping him and messing with his head? Fine, he could accept that. But having the angel declaring his love over egg and bacon? Too strange, even for Sam's line of work.

What was he suppose to say to something like that? The only person who ever said 'I'm in love with you' was Jessica, and even she hadn't said it in such a way.

Sam gave a sort of nervous chuckle and said, "Um, thanks, but no thanks."

Gabriel shrugged, as if Sam's rejection didn't matter. "You're not even my type," he huffed, leaning back into the red cushions of the booth. "You see, Sam, I like boobs." He made a gesture at his chest. "I like 'em big. You? No boobs." He made the same gesture towards Sam's chest.

Invisible hands fluttered over Sam's nipples, and gave them a short painful twist. Sam jumped in his seat, his hand coming up and slapping away the ghostly sensation.

"You also have no personality. You're so morbid and angst-ridden, it's like you're sixteen. Oh, my daddy didn't love me. Boo-frickidy-hoo."

Sam tried once again to leave. He could move perhaps a few inches off his seat, but no further than that.

"And I still can't believe it took you a hundred Tuesdays to figure out it was me. Seriously. And I thought you were the smart one in your family."

Sam looked up to the ceiling. "Cas? Cas can you hear me? Castiel!"

Gabriel leaned over and slapped him across the head. "Shut up," he intoned. "Do you honestly believe my little brother could break through my defenses? I'm an arc-angel, for fuck sake."

"Who got outsmarted by two humans," Sam snapped at him. "Whatever you're trying to do here, I'm not buying it. Now let me go."

"Man, you're a lousy date," he shook his head. "Here I am, declaring my love for you, and all you're trying to do is get away."

Sam ignored him and closed his eyes tightly, opened them just as fast. A not-so-impressed Gabriel was staring back at him.

He pinched his arm. Nothing.

A little more desperate now, Sam grabbed the knife in front of him and sliced open his palm. He relished the pain, drank it in, willing himself to wakeup wakeup wakeup…

"See?" Gabriel's voice broke through his mantra. "You even cut yourself. How crazy is that?"

Sam gave a short angry cry, slapped his hand down on the table, his blood spraying in different directions. "What do you want?"

He was smiling at him. Gabriel was smiling at him, gently, softly, and with so much affection it made Sam more uncomfortable than when Gabriel was sprouting off his love a few minutes ago. There was also skepticism written across his face, like he couldn't believe this was happening. "You're never going to give up, are you?" He asked suddenly. "Not to me, not to Lucifer, not to anybody. A hundred Tuesdays and you never gave up.

"I admire that about you."

Gabriel flicked his wrist off to the left and the table in front of them shot off from the foundation. The table struck Mr. Marshall, the wealthy business man who'd only retired months earlier, and it made no difference. Mr. Marshall kept eating his BLT, unawares that egg was splattered across his back and a table sat broken on top of his head.

In another time, Sam would've been fascinated how a dream could be so realistic and so unrealistic at the same time. Except Gabriel had grasped his head and forced him to look up. "You're so cute," Gabriel murmured and leaned down.

"Ah, no-!"

Sam tried to be as unresponsive as he could be. He kept his lips thin, jutted his jaw out. Gabriel paused only millimeters from Sam's lips, considered them, then changed his tactics.

Sam cried out when his nipples were pinched painfully once more, an unknown tongue swiped the curve of his ear, and teeth grazed his neck. Gabriel descended then, cutting Sam's cry short.

The pinching, licking and nibbling did not stop, keeping Sam in an almost state of vertigo, unable to rationalize or physically stop Gabriel from taking what he wanted.

It didn't last for very long. Gabriel soon pulled back, taking the phantom hands with him, leaving Sam breathless, pissed, and aroused. "You son of a bitch."

The angel smirked at him. "Sweet dreams, Sammy."

Then Gabriel was gone. The diner shimmered for a brief moment as colors began to melt and lines began to mesh together.

Sam blinked.

And woke up.

He jerked upwards in his bed, his eyes wildly passing over the small hotel room. It was still dark, but early enough for light to illuminate the room, allowing Sam to see Dean still sleeping peacefully in the other bed.

No Gabriel. No Diner. Just him, Dean, and the very obvious erection poking out from underneath the blankets.

Was it just a dream? Or did Gabriel really visit him? Sam considered calling Castiel for a moment. "Hey Cas. I think your older brother just molested me in my dream. What's up with that?"

Yeah, that's not going to happen.

Instead Sam laid back down and twisted onto his side, ignoring his excited dick. He didn't go back to sleep. He didn't want to go back to sleep.

His mouth tasted of honey.

The End.

()

A/N: You know, I once read a Sam/Gabriel fic about two weeks ago. And I didn't care for it. Never thought the ship would ever work, in canon or fandom, and the fic wasn't all that great either. I gave it a try and that was that.

Then I had a Sam/Gabriel dream. Nothing graphic, mind you, but once I woke up, the fangirl in me squealed. So this fic? Yeah… probably one of my naughtiest ever. Hope ya enjoyed!

R/R!