Michael isn’t sure if he believes Gabriel at first. After all, he knows the Valentine Saints; one of them built a church, one of them was eaten by lions, one of them drowned in a storm, none of them seem to have done anything particularly romantic for their human mates. Nothing that would spawn such a tradition down on Earth. But Gabriel is sitting on a cloud covered in glitter and bits of card and ribbon and seems so sincere in his own efforts to woo Samuel Winchester. Michael can’t help but believe him. Besides Gabriel has far more experience on earth than Michael. He can’t be wrong in his interpretation of day’s significance.
And, more to the point, Michael does want to do something nice for Adam. Something the young man will appreciate. Something sentimental but not sickly. Something will prove he is worthy of Adam’s affection despite their past... misunderstandings.
It does not go as planned. He finds the most perfect roses he can, the ones with the more sublime blooms in deepest scarlet- twelve of them, because Gabriel told him that was a significant number while he was picking out his own black roses to have sent to Kali- and Michael delivers them personally. But Adam is with his brothers, in a dark, cold forest, with an axe in-hand decapitating zombies. Not the time, Adam shouts as he swings the hatchet and goodness-knows-what splatters over them all. And the roses.
Michael feels a pang in his chest, not a pleasant one, but he is used to set-backs. He seeks Gabriel’s advice again, and is told poetry. Gabriel doesn’t elaborate further; he’s ‘sampling’ various heart-shaped candies to find the right box for Balthazar. But Michael does not need his help on this front. He had taken over the Choir after Lucifer’s fall, he could compose a poem to inspire love and devotion and awe. And so he does.
Adam is sat in the back of the Impala when Michael appears, clearing his throat and he begins; it is not a little ditty, but a full-blown saga about the creation of Adam’s perfect soul, the beauty in his conception, the way the stars shone brighter at the moment of his birth and Michael loved him from that instant; Adam is bright red before the end of the first stanza. “Dude, that’s gross.” Dean Winchester announces from the front of the car, and Adam gives Michael an embarrassed, gentle shove. Michael takes the hint.
He is not about to give up. Maybe old-fashioned courting is not what Adam needs, Gabriel suggests. Maybe he wants a good, hard visitation. Michael does not like the way Gabriel’s eyebrows move but he knows that seduction is just as much a part of romance as anything else. And there have been times, when they were alone, when Adam has for want of a better word, jumped Michael and initiated intercourse. Perhaps that is the best route to go down, because he knows Adam enjoys it.
But he takes Gabriel’s advice on how to make it a little more special than normal. Rose-petals, candles. Dim lighting. All of it is prepared and the arch-angels checks this time, makes sure than both Sam and Dean are out of the room. They are, and so he waits in the decorated bedroom, waiting for Adam to finish in the shower. He will be pleased, Michael knows.
He is, in fact. Adam drops the towel from around his hips and clears the distance between them, his eyes dark and a wicked smirk on his lips- lips the colour of the rose-petals spread over the white sheets. Michael likes the way Adam looks at that moment. It stirs things in him, in his Grace, like the gentle whirling of the universe sped up, churning in his belly and he doesn’t hold back when Adam pressed their lips together, climbing into Michael’s lap.
“We got pizza and tacos and beer and Mr Healthy got salad-“ Dean announces as he kicks open the motel door, and then stops. Sammy appears behind him a second later.
In a blink Adam is dressed, Michael makes sure of that, and the candles and rose-petals are gone, the only hint of what was happening is the abandoned towel, Adam’s slightly swollen lips and the groan of disappointment that escapes between them.
“I will be going, Adam.” Michael begins as Adam slips off his lap, Dean and Sam still watching like the idiots they are. But their younger sibling shakes his head and grabs Michael’s hand, dragging him past the two startled Winchesters. Adam makes sure to shut the motel door on them too, so that they can’t be interrupted any more.
“No way, you’re not going again.” Adam tells him, and curls his arms up around Michael’s shoulders. “You’re my Valentine. And there’s a few hours left of Valentine’s Day...”