Gabriel sketches sometimes, memories from his home and his past lives, smudging his face with black charcoal as he sits, curled in a corner, hand flying over the paper.
The only sketches Sam’s ever seen are of Gabriel’s pagan friends; a twisting, curling image with a “J” scrawled in the top corner, a dark stain contrasted by starkly clean lines, with “Hel” written in very small letters along the bottom, and something that is unmistakeably Thor, fighting what looks like a giant.
Sam comes back from a hunt and barely catches Gabriel’s look of concentration when he flops onto the bed.
“Long day?” Gabriel asks absently, smudging charcoal along his lip when he looks up at Sam and runs his hand over his mouth.
Sam just groans, opens one eye, groans again, and closes it.
“Drawing?” he mumbles before turning over and burying his face in the pillows. Gabriel hums in what sounds like amusement and Sam hears the pencil scratch across the page in something like a flourish.
Sam falls into a half-doze to the sound of Gabriel drawing, and wakes at the dip of Gabriel sitting next to him on the bed.
“Hi,” Gabriel murmurs, “go back to sleep,” but Sam shakes his head and rolls to face Gabriel, who’s holding several drawings. From how close he’s keeping them to himself, Sam thinks they’re of his family; Castiel’s said he thinks Gabriel draws Lucifer most often, as they were close before the Fall.
“Can I see?” he asks, holding his hand out for them, and Gabriel looks a little nervous, but hands them over.
Sam’s expecting to see whatever vessel Lucifer’s wearing now, framed in lines of light, or something. It’s not. It’s him, and he’s weirdly otherworldly, even if he’s wearing what he usually wears. He’s kind of beautiful.
Gabriel makes an uncomfortable noise as Sam flips through picture after picture of what is ostensibly Lucifer, wearing him or looking like him or something.
“Is that…what he looks like to you?” Sam asks quietly, because that explains a lot about why Gabriel’s so insistent about hanging around him.
“What?” Gabriel says, sounding somewhere between shocked and confused. Sam hands the drawings back to Gabriel because he’s not sure he wants to look at them for too long.
“Lucifer,” he says as Gabriel vanishes the papers to wherever it is he keeps his drawings. “That’s…is that why…?” Sam’s kind of afraid to ask, because of course he should have seen that it wasn’t because Gabriel liked Sam or anything. Nobody’s actually liked Sam since Jess, and that’s kind of depressing.
He was hoping maybe a little bit that Gabriel would change that.
Gabriel frowns at him but doesn’t touch him like he normally would – Gabriel’s kind of inhumanly tactile – and Sam’s actually grateful for that.
It stays like that, Sam looking up at Gabriel, unsure and confused – and kind of scared? – and Gabriel frowning down at him, until Gabriel gets it and laughs.
Sam scowls, because this is really not funny at all.
“Idiot,” Gabriel says, fondly, “that’s what you look like to me.”
And Sam tries really hard to respond, he does, but Gabriel’s leaning down and kissing him, sliding down the bed and curling close.
“I’m not—” Sam says finally, a little breathless, and Gabriel pinches his hip.
“You are,” he counters, “you’re beautiful.”
Sam’s pretty speechless, so Gabriel kisses him again, cards a hand through Sam’s hair. When Sam falls asleep again, it’s to Gabriel murmuring in some strange, resonant language as he kisses along Sam’s jaw.
Dean’s yelp wakes him again, followed quickly by Gabriel’s laugh. They’re taking the day after the hunt because Dean looks beat to shit and Sam hadn’t slept in two days.
“Show me the drawings again,” he says into Gabriel’s hair once Dean’s left, and Gabriel smiles into Sam’s neck, scrapes his teeth over the skin, and bites down.
Sam figures, actually, he can wait, and pins Gabriel to the bed.
Gabriel just laughs around a word that sounds like beautiful, and leans up to kiss him.