There are worse ways to be dragged out of sleep than being sat on, Sam has lived through a few of the more horrible ones.
But he still makes a protesting noise into the pillow.
"Get off," his voice is sleepy and irritated.
Gabriel grunts something that sounds a lot like a negative, knees shifting just a little, weight settled more firmly, and though he's not as heavy as Sam would have guessed originally he makes up for it by being incredibly irritating.
"Gabriel, some of us actually have to sleep." Sam refuses to open his eyes, because if he opens his eyes he'll have to be awake. He'll have to admit to being awake and sleep will become a distant memory.
Something small and cold is placed between his shoulder blades. Gabriel's fingers drift away and the little thing, whatever it is, rolls down the curve of his spine, one long shivery trail. It tumbles round his waist and gets lost somewhere in the sheets.
A moment later there's a noise of discovery and the faint sound of crunching.
Only for the weird ritual to be repeated, a shiver of sensation down Sam's back, this one ends in the hollow of his spine, rolls, rolls and is snatched away.
"Are those M&Ms?" It sounds like a complaint because it is one.
"They might be," Gabriel says lazily.
There's a pause, and then another tumble-roll of candy down his spine, and it's impossible to sleep under that.
Sam waits for a break in the rhythm and then rolls over, catching a hand and the loose edge of Gabriel's t-shirt and dragging him all the way down, until he's the one who ends up in the sheets.
Sam has an almost ridiculous advantage when it comes to size, and he abuses every single inch he has on him.
Gabriel seems to find it amusing, he raises an eyebrow at him, grins in a way which manages to be calculating, and Sam knows that if the angel decides to protest he's going to win, and Sam's going to end up hurting.
So he goes for distraction.
The M&Ms scatter on the sheets, a riot of red, green and yellow, and there's going to be candy shell and chocolate everywhere. But Sam's currently more interested in the sugar-rich taste of Gabriel's mouth and the sharp dig of his fingers that's just on the edge of actual pain.
Everything after that is a tangled up blur of want and burning hot skin that lets him dig his fingers in so damn hard. Gabriel is always a fraction too strong and too greedy, demanding and almost unbearably intense. Until it feels like Sam's the one spread out and pushed open. He's the one that always ends up fighting for every breath while the angel tears his good intentions into filthy pieces and leaves him feeling wrecked and dizzy.
It takes him a second afterwards to remember that he was supposed to be making a point.
"No more molesting me with candy at the crack of dawn," he complains into the curve of Gabriel's shoulder.
"You do realise you officially suck at negative reinforcement," Gabriel points out.