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Gabriel is draped over his back, chin resting on Sam's shoulder, and sighing contently. Sam wants to sigh, too, for an entirely different reason, but mostly he wants that pointy chin to stop poking him while he's bent over his laptop, scouring the net for information on their latest hunt. (He's ignoring the fact that further down something else is poking him, but there's only so much ignoring that a, he can do and b, Gabriel would let him get away with. Ignoring something Gabriel wants is one thing; not paying him any kind of attention wouldn't be tolerated. Not to say that Sam isn't trying to do exactly that because he's got work to do, dammit.) Gabriel sighs again, chest moving with in- and exhalation of breath, and while he doesn't shift his position at all, he somehow manages to become so much heavier. Sam is reminded of a mythical creature he can't quite recall the name of that persuaded travellers to carry it on their backs until they died of exhaustion.

Gabriel chuckles. "That's not the kind of riding I have in mind for you."

And, really, Sam knows better, but he stays silent and turns his attention back to the screen in front of him. Gabriel puts up with it for all of two minutes before he tilts his head slightly, angling it so his breath - he doesn't need to breathe - keeps ghosting over the fine hairs at the back of Sam's neck.

Sam stifles a moan but can't quite suppress any and all reaction. The index finger of his right hand twitches, and he accidentally closes his current tab. (He could have sworn the cursor wasn't hovering over the X a second ago). He presses down ctrl-shift-T, reopening the tab, and gets to read the news article for all of thirty seconds before the terribly distracting exhalations turn into an impossible-to-ignore pressure of lips with liberal application of tongue and teeth.

Sam whimpers. "God."

"Nope," Gabriel murmurs against his neck, "just His messenger." He plants a wet kiss right on Sam's topmost vertebra, swirling his tongue around the bone, before drawing back and blowing on it.

"Go- Gabriel."

"Better," the archangel pauses, then starts to chuckle. "I guess that means you can be taught." And this right there would be enough to make Sam try to deck him, but Gabriel chooses that moment to start nibbling and sucking on his neck again. (Probably on purpose, too). He grabs Sam's hair - and when did that get long enough to tie into a ponytail? More importantly, he doesn't want it tied that way, but when he tries to remove the, scrunchy? Goddammit, Gabriel, he discovers that he, well, can't.

"Easier access, leave it." Sam can hear the grin in his voice, but by now he is too aroused to care, and if Gabriel does that thing with his tongue again, Sam won't be responsible for his actions.

Then one moment Gabriel is laying more open-mouthed kisses on his skin, hand slowly sliding underneath Sam's shirt, the next he is very suddenly gone, and Sam finds out why a moment later, when the door opens behind him. "Dude," Dean says, and Sam turns around to face him. His brother's wearing an expression like he's just swallowed something disgusting - something like salad, though that can't be true because Dean wouldn't ever even order salad, never mind eat it.  

"What?" Sam says. Dean stares at him, then heads over to their luggage and pulls out a turtleneck sweater, which he tosses towards Sam. "If you absolutely have to be necking with him, at least cover up the evidence."  The sweater vanishes before Sam can even think about changing into it - not that he would have because it's summer and they are in freaking Arizona -, and, as Dean growls and turns away, Sam has a sudden flash of insight into Gabriel's mind. Yeah, the angel doesn't like Sam ignoring him, but he also doesn't like Dean ignoring his possession - and Sam did not just think that - of Dean's younger brother.

And what with both Dean and Gabriel being as stubborn as they are, Sam has a feeling that this won't be the last hickey he'll be sporting for a long while.