#dtass

For my lovely RP partner, @fascinatingmisterspock. Ily, my bab. <3 

Warnings: D/s undertones if you squint (tell me if there’s something I missed)

Sam rested his head on his fist, staring into his book. The words looked like smears, and he didn’t bother to try and make them turn back into English. He knew it wasn’t earth-shatteringly important, he knew that Dean and Cas just wanted to know if they had a case in Colorado Springs. He just... couldn’t find the motivation. 

And it was driving him insane. 

He slouched back in his chair and rubbed his eyes. Exhaustion made his arms heavy and weak--made all of him heavy and weak--and he wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and lay there for a week. Not that he really even wanted to stand up... Sam sighed, closing his eyes and letting his hands fall into his lap. He was a mess.

The soft rustle of wings barely prepared him for the warm hand that cradled the back of his neck. His eyes snapped open to meet Gabriel’s, the whiskey-gold shadowed by the furrow of his brow.

“You don’t look so good, kiddo.” 

Sam’s eyelids fluttered as Gabriel’s fingers played with the fine hair at the nape of his neck. “’M fine.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “You’re forty seconds away from falling over and drooling all over your stupid book.”

“Am no--” Sam nearly swallowed his tongue, his body going boneless as his archangel’s thumb worked over a knot in his neck. The blissfully firm, smooth rhythm made Sam’s eyes flutter.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Gabriel’s voice was soft, an edge of teasing softened by the concerned tilt to his mouth. “All right, sugar cube, I’m taking you to bed.”

“Mmm, please,” Sam murmured, smiling as he projected loudly toward his mate.

Gabriel rolled his eyes as he scooped his pliant human up into his arms and tucked him into his bed. “You’re sleeping first, big guy. After that, I’ll see what I can make you do for me.”

((Author’s note: It’s been awhile, and I know I haven't finished the prompts, but I will be working on them over Winter Break. In the mean time, it’s 3 am (or it was when I started), and I wanted to do another ace!Sam DTASS. 

As a side note, the ‘verse for this is clearly canon divergent, since Gabe lived, but he also bonded with Sam in a similar way to Cas and Dean’s “profound” one. Everyone is alive (including Charlie and Kevin and all the others who didn't deserve it), and the boys are between hunts. So... Cheers!))

Sam was getting old. He knew that. In “hunter years,” thirty-three was closer to seventy. But he knew that. His life was going to be short, every year over thirty was pure luck, and his days were becoming more precious. (Dean insisted that hunting made them age three times faster than the average person, but Sam didn’t want to think about being ninety-nine.) So when Gabriel suggested a night of stargazing, Sam couldn’t say he thought too hard before agreeing to the excursion.

So far, he couldn’t say he regretted it.

The frosty silver of the Milky Way arched overhead, stars gleaming like diamond dust in the darkness of the desert sky. Sam knew he was gaping like a moron, but he couldn’t help it. There were colors he had never seen in the night sky, shades of purple and blue delicately accented with a faint pinkish hue.

“Well?” Gabriel wrapped his arm around him, and Sam tore his attention away for a moment to look at his Archangel. His grin was illuminated by the strained light of the universe, and though he couldn’t see it very well, Sam knew there would be a smarmy gleam to those golden eyes.

He looked back up at the sky, drinking it in. “I’ve never seen the Milky Way this bright.”

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Sam smiled upward. “You’re fishing for a compliment.”

The arm around his waist squeezed lightly. “Shamelessly.”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “This was a really good idea. And I appreciate it.” 

Their bond came alive, carrying a warm wave of pride and happiness and love that washed over Sam’s entire body. Though the sensation wasn’t new, it was still enough to set off a wave of goosebumps that curled out from his spine. And Gabriel was definitely getting better at letting his feelings come through. 

“I’m glad,” he purred, leaning closer.

Sam tugged Gabriel in front of him, resting his chin on his Archangel’s head. “Where are we, anyway?”

“What, no guesses?” Gabriel reached back and wrapped Sam’s arms around him, his purr rumbling softly in his chest. “I thought you’d at least make it interesting, Boy Genius.”

“...Nevada?” “I hate you.”

Sam laughed. “What, did I ruin your fun?” 

Gabriel pouted a little as his hunter pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Yes.”

“I bet I can make it up to you,” he offered, tracing light patterns over Gabriel’s collarbones, “If you can find us a place with room service, that is.”

A thrill bolted into Sam’s mind, and he smiled into the softness of his angel’s hair. 

“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” Gabriel teased, kissing his human’s bicep. “We’ve had a room since we got here.” He looked up as far as he could, just barely meeting Sam’s eyes. “Dessert and champagne again?”

Sam nodded slowly, biting his lip. “Any chance we can make a weekend out of this stargazing trip? I think there are some nature trails and fancy restaurants around here...”

Because I need this right now

Imagine, for a moment, Sam being ace as hell. Not exactly 100% sex-repulsed, mind. Maybe abstinent after a few shitty flings with people who didn’t understand him very well, but occasionally down to do the horizontal tango, as Gabriel was wont to describe it. 

Imagine him being super shy about it at first. He knew it felt right, but the label was still too awkward and new on his tongue. Like holding a new gun for the first time. It was tough to explain to people, too, without the conversation dissolving into a noncommittal shrug and the phrase “I dunno, it just doesn’t always feel right to me.” 

Imagine him getting really comfortable with it, though. Imagine him knowing the entire spectrum like the back of his hand and having a good description/metaphor/example for each one. Imagine him sitting in a bar, chatting someone up and watching their face light up as he describes asexuality, literally sees them discover something new about themselves in the span of a few minutes. Imagine him comforting someone who feels broken or alone or ashamed or lost because of their asexuality. Imagine him taking them home and cuddling with them until they fall asleep. 

Imagine him being nervous to mention it to Gabriel. The archangel has been around long enough that it might not exactly surprise him, but that’s not what worries Sam. He worries that Gabriel will think he’s boring or not good enough anymore. He worries that his lack of a drive for sex will put the archangel off for good. Or worse... what if he thinks Sam is a freak? A defective? What if Sam decides he doesn’t like the ace label and adjusts to a different one? Will Gabriel jump on the ‘I told you so’ train? Will he be smug and mean about it? Will he forever be skeptical of Sam’s judgment? 

Imagine him finally getting up enough courage to just come out and tell Gabriel that he’s ace. Imagine Gabriel nodding solemnly as Sam stumbles through explanations but cuts him off when he starts to apologize. Imagine Gabriel taking his hands and telling him what he always told everyone else: “You’re not broken. You're ace, and that’s fine. It doesn’t make you less of a person. It doesn’t make you a defective. You’re still human.” Imagine Sam getting all misty-eyed as he hugs his archangel tight for being so understanding. 

Imagine them still having a happy, healthy romantic relationship. Imagine them having tons of cute, sappy moments because they know it makes Dean sick to witness. Imagine them squabbling about who’s doing dishes and laundry because Sam’s tired of doing both when it’s usually Gabe who makes the biggest messes. Imagine Gabe apologizing with kisses and cuddles, trying to get out of it and failing. 

Sam ached all over. His arms, his core, his everything, but most of all his head. He sat on the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands to block out any light. Pain pulsed through his skull in time with with each heartbeat, stomach sloshing uncomfortably. The only thing missing was the dizziness. A thin, pathetic noise escaped him without his permission. Why did the universe think this was a good day to give out migraines? 

“Sammy!” Gabriel crowed, popping into existence and bouncing onto his hunter’s bed. “Happy anniversary!”

He cringed, instinctively throwing his hands over his ears as the sound clattered down every nerve in his body. The room did a fast half-pirouette to top it all off, and Sam wasn’t sure he could make it to the bathroom before he threw up all over the floor...

“Sam?”

His distressed whine quickly turned into a pleased noise as cool hands cupped his clammy cheeks. His eyelids fluttered in pleasure as the pain momentarily subsided.

“You okay?” Gabriel asked gently, frowning deeply at the flashes of pain sporadically projecting from his hunter. “You don’t feel so good.”

“Migraine,” Sam whispered almost under his breath, wincing as that tiny bit of effort caused his head to start pulsing again, “Meds aren't working...”

The archangel’s cold hands slipped behind his neck, and Sam shivered, squeezing his eyes tight together. It helped for a split second before Sam’s nerves revolted, sending violent bolts of pain up through his skull. He groaned as it radiated down his neck and shoulders, his stomach flipping...

Grace curled into his body, sure and cool. It started at the tips of his fingers and curled up to his wrists, soothing the bone-deep aches before curling up his arms and swirling over his shoulders. Sam shuddered as muscles untwisted and relaxed, the coolness sweeping down his spine and radiating out along each rib. The balmy tide curled up his neck and melted over his head, silencing the revolt definitively.

For a few moments, Sam just sat with his eyes closed and enjoyed the blissful, pain-free silence. It felt almost alien after the hour-long struggle for peace. He melted into Gabriel with a sigh, curling around him in relieved gratitude.

“Better, Sammycakes?” 

He nodded drowsily, not even bothering to protest the silly name. “Thanks.”

“No sweat. ‘S the easiest thing I’ve ever done for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” Sam grumbled back, opening one eye and frowning at his angel. 

“On the contrary, my dear,” he purred in his sappiest voice, cupping the back of Sam’s neck and pulling him close, “I made plans for our anniversary, and I cringe at the thought of them going to waste. Especially over a headache.”

“So you only fixed it because you made plans?” It was meant to be a sharp demand, but his voice came out breathless and halfway flattered.

((Continuation of DTASS #15, original format for aesthetic/continuity reasons))

Sam hiding out in weirder and weirder places in the bunker to get away from Gabriel’s clingy affectionateness

In the bathroom, under the stairs, in a closet which was a really bad idea, do you know how much Gabriel likes closets and locking people in them???

Gabriel somehow finds him every damn time, and Sam just snaps and tells him to fuck off, dammit, just give some space to breathe!

They both blink, surprised by the outburst

Gabriel gets up to go, and Sam lunges after him, apologizing fervently and trying to explain himself

Gabriel cuts him off with a wave of his hand, reminding him that hello, archangel, you’ve been projecting your thoughts at the top of your mind since this whole thing started, you dummy

Sam bristles, demanding to know why Gabriel kept doing it when he knew Sam was uncomfortable

Gabriel raises an eyebrow 

“Not feeling like you’re worth affection isn’t a good enough reason for me not to cuddle with you.”

When Sam was sixteen, he pierced his ears. It wasn’t any sort of blatant rebellion or anything, not really. He just thought the sleek, black studs in the tattoo shop looked really cool and got it done on a whim. When Dad had found out, he rolled his eyes but moved on. Bigger fish to fry, Sam supposed. Besides, the money had been his own score at the last bar, so it only seemed fair that he could do what he wanted with it no matter how much Dean grumbled and complained. 

And Sam really liked them. Yeah, they were a pain in the ass the first couple weeks, and maybe he had mistaken his water bottle for his homemade saline a couple times (much to Dean’s unending delight), but he was diligent about keeping them clean, and they healed up nice and quick. 

By the time he had left for college, the holes had been closed up for at least a year, the sleek studs MIA. The life wasn’t really a good environment for things with little, bitty pieces like earrings and butterfly backs, anyway. Although Sam had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t as accidental as Dean made it sound, he never proved it, and the year of the earrings came to a relatively peaceful end.

Until Gabriel.

“Eyyyyy, Samm-ayyyy!”

Sam sighed. He would’ve prayed for patience if he thought it would do him any good. “What do you want?”

“I have something of yours,” he answered with a soft purr, draping himself over the hunter’s back.

Exasperated yet resigned, Sam turned from the ancient tome he was pouring over. “What could you possibly--?”

He froze when he saw the familiar polished black buds pinched between the archangel’s fingers. Then cracked a smile at the smug look on Gabriel’s face.

“I feel it is my sworn duty as your sort-of-boyfriend to inform you that I can reopen your piercings without needles or that tedious healing period.”

Sam singing Phantom of the Opera

Sam was organizing in his room. Again. It was less about the fact that he wanted to be tidy and more about how he wanted something not hunting-related to do. Downtime sucked for everyone, human or immortal, and if this is what it took to keep him sane, so be it. Gabriel could grudgingly understand that. 

That didn't mean that Sam had to know that he was there, just beyond the hunter’s perception. Sue him, he liked keeping an eye on his moose. 

Especially when he started to sing softly under his breath. Gabriel had to bite back a snort when he recognized the melody. Angel of Music? This would be good. Too good to pass up. 

The archangel materialized just in time to croon back about being the Angel of Music in a deliberately sappy tone.

Sam falling asleep in random places. 

It wasn’t that Sam was always tired. It was just that the Hunter lifestyle didn’t allow him a normal sleeping schedule. So he dozed off a lot. It wasn’t his fault that Dean’s conversations with the diner staff got lengthy, and everyone’s slept in the car before. Maybe, y’know, not on a ten-minute ride to Wal-Mart, but still! It wasn’t intentional, it just happened because the job came first. No exceptions.

And at first, Gabriel thought it was hilarious, snapping pictures whenever the opportunity arose. (He still had the photo of his gargantuan hunter face planted into his keyboard with twenty pages of gibberish still flowing into a Word document.) But it quickly started to bore the archangel. Sam dozed off everywhere. The motel table, leaning against a brick wall, even talking to police officers and coroners. And yeah, Gabriel got that the life was tough, and that hours of good sleep were few and far between, and he could understand dropping off during a long-winded rant of some prehistoric old dude with a ghost problem.

But dammit, he drew the fucking line when Sam started to drift during make-out sessions. 

“Saaaaaaam,” he whined as his hunter broke a perfectly fervent kiss to yawn.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep tears out of his eyes, “’S been a long day...”

Gabriel pouted, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m not doing it on purpose!”

His eyes narrowed. “Maybe I should keep you better focused.” 

“You think?” Sam’s long fingers scratched idly at the nape of his archangel’s neck, grinning when he purred, “What will you do?” 

Sam suddenly didn’t feel as sleepy when Gabriel wiggled his fingers in his armpits.