The sound that wakes Sam is not one he's used to. It's a sort of squirty, squashy, air noise. Which is so bizarre he's forced awake more through curiosity than genuine fear for his life.
There's a half naked Archangel straddling his lap, sheets shoved down behind him. Which isn't really so strange. For someone millions of years old Gabriel has a ridiculously short attention span. Sam can't remember the last time he didn't wake up to him doing something.
He looks down.
Gabriel has apparently decorated him while he was asleep.
Judging by the upended squeezy bottle he's decorated him with chocolate sauce
"Gabriel," Sam thinks he manages get exactly the right amount of questioning in his voice. "What are you doing?"
"Very important wards," Gabriel says smoothly. He's half way through what looks like an inverted 'T' just underneath his left nipple.
The room smells so strongly of chocolate Sam can taste it on the back of his tongue.
"These very important wards," Sam says carefully. "They have to be written in chocolate sauce?"
Gabriel shoves his thumb in his mouth and sucks it clean. Then raises his head and pulls a face which Sam takes to mean 'obviously'
"So now I'm protected from what exactly?"
"Demons," Gabriel says, slowly and sensibly. Like that was obvious too.
"Diabetic demons maybe," Sam complains. If he moves he's going to learn the terrible truth behind why skin and chocolate should never permanently coexist. And he's fairly sure Gabriel warmed it up because he would have noticed someone painting him with cold chocolate sauce.
Gabriel shifts a knee so he can add another symbol to the bottom of Sam's ribs. He manages to get a curl of sauce on his wrist and then spends an indulgent moment licking it off while Sam debates how exactly he's going to manage to get up without leaving chocolate smeared everywhere.
"Shush, nearly finished."
The bottle's almost empty. The chocolate coming out in squishy curls, plastic squeezed until it's almost touching. Gabriel's fingers drag in the edge of a line bisecting two symbols. Sam's not entirely sure why he's letting Gabriel indulge himself. Why he always lets him indulge himself.
Gabriel laughs under his breath like he's listening. The bottle pauses briefly and Gabriel's weight rolls forward, until he's leant forward over Sam's decorated body. The chocolate isn't the distraction this time. Though judging by the wet sticky flavour of Gabriel's mouth he'd been indulging while using Sam as an art project.
Sam's tempted to lift a hand and drag Gabriel all the way down, squish chocolate all across his chest and the edge of his chin and the bare length of his arm.
He's very tempted.
But then Gabriel's hand moves, fingers tugging open the button and zip on his jeans, sliding them over his hipbones one-handed. Sam makes a noise against the greedy push of his mouth. Something crushed and unintelligible.
The noise he makes when Gabriel's hand slides in is a different sound. Lower and harder.
He's about three seconds away from giving in when Gabriel lets him go, slides back off of his lap and tosses the empty squeezy bottle to land somewhere on the carpet with a soft 'thud.'
"I'd say now you absolutely need a shower and I am one hundred percent behind the opinion that you should take the opportunity to fuck me up against that slippery tiled wall."