Title: I'll Pet Yours (If You'll Pet Mine)

Author: Reiko K.

Fandom: Supernatural

Categories: Modern AU, Pre-slash.

Pairing: Sam Winchester/Gabriel "Spleight"

Rating: PG-13 (for language)

Word Count: ~1,650

Summary: In which Gabriel loves everything about Sam.

Notes/Prompt: This was written for the sabriel_mini meme challenge. Wolfish_willow requested: AU or not. Sam's sitting on the floor (watching a movie or researching or doing homework, up to you) and Gabriel's sitting on the couch just behind him. Funny enough, that puts his head at the perfect level for Gabriel to start playing with his hair.

I'll Pet Yours (If You'll Pet Mine)

Gabriel wasn't sure how he and Sam managed to get into this particular position, but he certainly wasn't complaining. The room was cold, which meant his feet were cold, and Sam's delicious- and totally warm, as fate would have it- bum was the perfect place to rest his miserably frozen toes under.

Or, at least that's the excuse he'd come up with (minus the deliciousness of Sam's rear, for obvious reasons) when Sam had given him a curious, slightly suspicious look and asked why Gabriel was wiggling his feet beneath his butt.

Sam didn't necessarily look like he believed, or trusted, Gabriel, but at least he hadn't decided to move, which Gabriel (and his very warm, though possibly numb toes) were very much grateful for.

Within moments of being buried beneath the soft, welcoming heat, it became pretty much official that Gabriel Spleight's toes were in complete and utter love with Sam Winchester's fine behind.

As if he needed another reason to adore Sam more than he already did.

Gabriel sighed and lifted the remote to change the channel. It figured that on the one day he managed to take off from work there'd be absolutely nothing on. It was kind of ridiculous considering he had over two thousand channels, but what could you do when the quality of television only seemed to decrease year after year? After the series finale of Dr. Sexy, MD, TV just hadn't been the same.

A familiar tune resonated through his tiny living room and Gabriel looked up to see the Criminal Minds logo flash across his screen. He glanced down and was completely unsurprised to see Sam's face turned away from his books and towards the television. Gabriel frowned and quickly changed the channel, settling on some movie or other on HBO-L.

Sam craned his neck around, no doubt to complain about Gabriel switching off his favorite show, but Gabriel interrupted him with a swift thump to the head.

"It's study time, Sam," he reminded him.

Sam scowled and returned his gaze to his lap. "Nice of you to start caring about my study habits now," he grumbled.

And wasn't Gabriel such a complete fucking sap that he even found the sound of Sam's whining adorable?

"Complain to me later. When you've finished that chapter, preferably."

Sam huffed again, mumbled something under his breath, and went silent. Gabriel inwardly rolled his eyes.

It wasn't that Gabriel really cared about Sam's studies. Oh, alright. So he did. The kid was fucking smart, and Gabriel really wanted to see him go places. But he wasn't anal about it, and normally wouldn't be the one to turn down a moment of Sam's time without his nose in a goddamned book. He didn't have issues with Sam taking a five minute or so break, especially when Gabriel was the only one around to direct his wired attention on. He did have fucking issues with Emily Prentiss, though, and Sam's stadium-sized crush on the woman. And call him selfish (or territorial, or jealous, or whatever) but he'd rather have Sam's nose stuck in a boring book on dead languages than his eyes glued to a pretty girl's chest.

At least someone had their priorities straight. Gabriel stuck his tongue out at the back of Sam's adorably large head for good measure.

Five minutes of watching some chick try on about a gazillion bridesmaid's dresses on an utterly silent television and Gabriel was bored. Bored, bored, bored. And a bored Gabriel? Never a good thing.

Already his hands were twitching to just get up and do something. Run around his living room, bake a cake, jump out his window, anything so that he wouldn't have to spend another minute on his uncomfortable sofa with absolutely nothing to do.

He turned to Sam, ready to explain that he'd be back because he needed to do whatever before he went utterly batshit, crayon-the-walls crazy, when his eyes caught on something shiny.

Sam's hair.

It was the angle where Sam was sitting, was the direction the sun had moved, and Sam's hair looked like it was glowing. The soft light that was peaking through Gabriel's curtain-less window was completely showering him, making every inch of him shine and his hair sparkle gold. Gabriel was fascinated by the way each strand of hair seemed to glean in the light, like cobwebs beneath a lamplight during the night.

In an instant Gabriel was overcome with the most intense desire to touch it; to run his fingers through that fine hair and feel each strand between his fingers.

He bit his lip and glanced at Sam's hunched over frame, hesitating. He'd done more forward things in the past—a little hair petting was hardly the most suggestive thing Sam had ever let him do—but still. Touching someone else's hair seemed oddly…personal, and believe it or not, making Sam uncomfortable really hadn't been on his agenda for the day.

He warred with himself for a good half-minute before swallowing and going in the for the kill.

At the first contact with Sam's head all Gabriel could do was close his eyes and think soft. And then Sam twitched and Gabriel's hand froze, and it was all he could do to not snatch his hand away. Instead he continued to pet, too focused on Sam's reaction and the shallow, loud beating of his heart against his chest to take pleasure in his actions. He might as well have been petting a brick wall at the moment, for all he could concentrate on the task at hand.

Only when Sam's body slumped, evidently relaxed, did Gabriel allow himself to really breathe.

This was familiar. Different rules, perhaps, but the same old game. When Gabriel was at his bravest he'd do something suggestive, something indicative of his feelings, and Sam would, after some hesitation, usually let him. Neither of them talked about it. The one time Gabriel had tried, Sam had clammed up tighter than a nun in a strip bar and proceeded to avoid him for three days. Needless to say, Gabriel had learned to keep his mouth shut.

Sam's brother, Dean, had told him to give it—give Sam—time. That had been three years ago.

Gabriel didn't like thinking it, but he was already getting tired of waiting.

Growing more confident that Sam wasn't going to freak out and flee, Gabriel allowed himself to relax and returned his attention to Sam's hair. It really was rather glorious, all supple and long, the color of melted milk chocolate and simmering caramel. It felt wonderful beneath his fingers, like this silk scarf he used to own when he'd worked as a software developer (before he'd quit and pursued a career as a baker, when he could afford such luxuries).

Gabriel settled back into the couch and continued petting and running his fingers through Sam's silk tresses, only ever breaking rhythm to scrape his nails across Sam's scalp and rub the soft skin behind his ears. Minutes passed, or maybe hours—Gabriel couldn't quite tell. It felt as if he'd been there forever. He thought he could do it, too; spend eternity combing his fingers through Sam's hair.

Sam's head had jerked a total of five times before Gabriel finally opened his eyes and glanced down at him, not surprised in the least to see Sam's head bobbing like he'd been falling asleep.

He ran his fingers through Sam's hair one more time before mournfully pulling away (and seriously, as if another part of Gabriel needed to fall in love with another part of Sam). He gently touched the back of Sam's neck with his fingers and tugged on one of the few curls resting on his nape.

"C'mon, Sammy," Gabriel whispered, leaning forward and tugging again. "Wakey-wakey, Mr. Lazy. You're not done studying yet."

Silence, and then, "'T's y'r fault."

Gabriel grinned at his sleepy drawl. "I'm not surprised that my fingers are as magical as every other part of me."

Sam snorted and turned around. He laid his head on Gabriel's lap and smiled up at him, eyes hazel and warm and smile crooked and fond. He looked like he'd just woken up, hair every which way and narrow cheeks flushed.

Gabriel's breath stuttered in throat.

Not for the first time Gabriel wished he could find whoever it had been who'd hurt Sam, who'd broken his heart, and beat the hell out of him. Because Sam was incredible and deserved every iota of happiness this world had to offer, and any asshole who made him feel like he didn't just didn't deserve to live.

"'M too tired. I'll finish studying 'morrow."

"You sure about that?" Gabriel asked, swallowing past the lump in his throat. He tried to stomp on the bubbling rage inside him that threatened to boil over whenever Gabriel thought of Sam's infamous ex. It took a moment, but eventually he was able to unclench his jaw and breathe.

Sam closed his eyes and snuggled further. "Mm. You just about killed me, Gabe. I couldn't study now even if I tried."

Despite the momentary upset, Gabriel managed a smile. "I'm sorry," he lied.

"Liar." Sam called him on it.

Gabriel's hand returned to Sam's head without his permission and resumed petting.

Sam made an approving sound and smiled wider, eyes still closed, and it took everything in Gabriel to keep his mouth shut over the words he so wanted (needed) to speak.

He leaned back and ran his fingers through Sam's hair and told himself to wait. Moments like this made the words all the more desperate to escape, but Gabriel would reign them in. He'd keep them contained for as long as he had to, which was whenever Sam was ready to let him in. It could take days, weeks, months, hell, probably years, but Gabriel would wait for him.

Sam was worth it.

.The End.

End Notes: I hope you all enjoyed this. Thanks for reading!