aria_lerendeair: (Default)
 Title: Manners Maketh Man

Author: Aria_Lerendeair

Artist: Bright-Pyrite

Beta: Kate, you wonderful, fucking amazing darling you.  <3  

Pairing (if any): Gabriel/Sam (Sabriel)

Genre/Tropes: Spy AU

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 38,382

Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the Kingsman Movie, I draw very heavily from it in places, and though I don't own the Kingsman story, I do own some of the additional plot points I added that I wish I could have seen in the movie.  

Summary: Gabriel Novak had known, since he was twelve years old that he would never amount to anything worthwhile.  He'd be a drain on society until his dying day, just like his Dad.  However, when Sam Winchester, a Kingsman agent, waltzes into his life with his bespoke suits, spy gadgets and devastating smile, to give him the opportunity of a lifetime, Gabriel can't say no.  Oh, and they have to save the world.



Gabriel shook his head and swallowed. 




His eyes drifted back to the computer.  The message existed.  It was longer than a standard communication, but not that much longer.  Gabriel swallowed and pulled out his phone, calling up the jet.  He wasn’t taking any chances. 


He phoned Percival in and begged him to cover the rest of the shift.  It only took one word for him to come in.  Sam.  Sam might be alive.  He might be dead.  But someone sent a message that only a Kingsman could send.  Dean, shit, no, he had to remember to call him Dagonet.  Dean needed to know, needed to be told, but Gabriel was already on his way to the jet, and Percival would be able to decode the damn message, alert everyone else.


Gabriel was halfway over the Atlantic Ocean before he even thought to call Kali or Merlin.  He couldn’t sleep, he only paced up and down the aisle, replaying the scene from Sam’s shooting in his mind.  It had been a shot to the head.  There had been so much blood…


Gabriel swallowed as his phone buzzed in his pocket.  He pulled it out.  Merlin.  Merlin would have decoded the message.  Perhaps the message was meant for him.  “Galahad,” he managed, tightening his hand around his phone so it didn’t shake. 


“Gabriel,” Merlin said. 


Gabriel fell into a seat, relief washing over him in waves.  Merlin would only use his real name if-


“He’s alive.”


Gabriel sucked in a breath, feeling dizzy.  Alive, Sam was alive, had been alive for three months, he’d survived.  He’d managed to survive.  Somehow, he’d survived a shot to the head at point blank range, how had he done that, had there been some gadget, but then, why hadn’t Merlin known about it?


“Gabriel,” Merlin called again. 


Gabriel shook himself and snapped back to attention.  “I’m here.  I’m here,” he reassured Merlin.  “I’m en route.  I’ll be there in four hours.” 


Silence on the other end of the phone had him wondering.  Did Sam not want to see him?  Would he have wanted to be seen by anyone other than him?  Gabriel waited for the other shoe to drop from Merlin. 


“Try to wait to kiss him until he’s able to stand.  He only woke up from his coma yesterday.” 


Gabriel wanted to respond, but the dial-tone beeped in his ear before he could.  He pulled the phone away and stared at it.  He swallowed, his mouth dry.  Merlin had known?  Had they all known? 


Well, fuck it, there was nothing that he could do about it now.  Nothing at all.  Gabriel sank back down into one of the plus seats and took a deep breath, rubbing his hands over his face.  Fuck.  Fucking hell. 


Landing in Frankfurt didn’t take long.  The two hour drive to where the church had been took him an hour and a half.  Gabriel had no idea how long he’d been awake now, but exhaustion was licking at the edges of his mind. 


But Sam was alive, he was awake, and he needed to find him.  Now


A quick glance at his watch told him that he wasn’t going to get far at nine thirty in the evening on a Sunday.  He needed to figure something else out and he needed to do it quickly.  Gabriel found a nearby motel that was willing to take cash and bought himself a shitty bed to crash in. 


He slept for more than ten hours, and when he woke up, sun was blazing in the window and there were birds chirping outside.  Gabriel wanted to shoot all of them, but the idea that Sam was alive, and waiting to be found was enough to keep him from making a scene. 


Gabriel tugged on his suit (only a little wrinkled from the plane ride and wearing it two days in a row) and made his way down to the police station.  He had to start somewhere. 


He got laughed out of the station, in the wake of V-day, there were thousands of missing person cases, and not one where the person had been found without one of those cases.  Gabriel had no idea if Sam had used an alias, so he couldn’t even give his name to try and hunt him down like that. 


Afterwards, it seemed like a good idea to start searching each of the hospitals one by one.  Gabriel stole a pair of scrubs and a lab coat from an absent doctor.  They were far too long in the arms, but thankfully, everyone was so busy that they didn’t notice.  He stole an empty clipboard, grabbed some blank forms and walked around with a purpose checking room by room. 


No one ever paid attention to you while you had a clipboard in your hands and you walked with a purpose.  Gabriel almost snickered as he checked another room in the rehabilitation suite and nearly dropped the fucking clipboard. 




Fuck, Sam was right there, in a wheelchair, staring out the window. 


He forced his legs to move and he turned the doorknob silently, pushing the door open. 


Gabriel stood in the doorway of the rehabilitation suite, staring at the figure in the wheelchair.  His hair was shorter, but the color was right.  So was the breadth of his shoulders.  Was Sam unable to walk?  Horror curled in the pit of his stomach at the idea that Sam couldn’t walk.  Would Sam blame him for that?  He’d deserve it, all of this was his fault. 


“Are you going to stand in the doorway forever, Gabriel, or are you going to come in?” Sam called. 


Gabriel stepped into the room and shut the door behind him, watching as Sam wheeled himself around.  “You cut your hair,” he said. 


“It was either shave my head or have to suffer the indignity of a comb-over,” Sam said, smiling at Gabriel.  “I am glad the doctors selected the first option for me.” 


Gabriel wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch Sam or shoot him.  Both sounded like excellent options.  There was also kissing him, but damn, gentlemen had more tact than that and Sam deserved better than that.  He took a step closer to Sam.  “Can you walk?” 


Sam nodded and Gabriel felt relief rush through him.  Oh fuck.  Thank fuck. 


“I have feeling in all of my extremities.  There appears to have been no nerve damage,” Sam said, wheeling himself closer to Gabriel.  “I sent a message as soon as I woke from the coma they placed me in for the surgery.” 


Gabriel swallowed hard and nodded again.  He forced his hands to unclench and slid them into his pockets.  He was wearing his suit, the suit that Sam had picked out for him, that he had saved the world in.  “We saved the world.” 


Sam smiled at him and Gabriel took a step forward without meaning to move.  “Indeed.  All looks to be in one piece.” 


“Minus a few bits here and there, yeah,” Gabriel croaked.  He cleared his throat and tried to focus on Sam, but his image was getting blurrier by the second. 


“Gabriel,” Sam said. 


“They gave me your alias,” Gabriel blurted.  “They call me Galahad and it’s wrong, Sam, I’ll never be Galahad, and now that you’re back-” 


“Gabriel, come here,” Sam ordered, wheeling himself closer. 


Gabriel shuffled closer to Sam, and looked down at him, struggling to breathe, because Sam was shorter than him in the chair and that wasn’t right, couldn’t be right.  He dropped to his knees and rested his head on Sam’s thigh, clenching his eyes shut to try to prevent the tears.


Long fingers slowly combed through his hair and Gabriel choked on a sob.  He reached out and tightened his hand on Sam’s calf, squeezing him, reassuring himself that Sam was here, that he was real


“Oh, my dear boy,” Sam whispered, combing Gabriel’s hair back from his face as Gabriel started to cry, his shoulders shaking as he clung to him.  “It’s all right.  Let it out.  Breathe and let it out.” 


“I’m so mad at you,” Gabriel said, tangling his fingers in the fabric of Sam’s pants.  “So, so mad at you, I’m going to kick your ass when you are back in fighting shape.” 


Sam smiled at Gabriel.  “I would expect nothing less from you, Gabriel.  Nothing less.” 


For the first time in three months, Gabriel let the rest of the tension drain out of his shoulders.  Even if he was kicked out of Kingsman, even if he got booted out to the curb, it wouldn’t matter.  Sam was here.  Sam was alive.  Sam was safe


They could figure everything else out later.












It took Gabriel two days to forge the paperwork required to get Sam out of the hospital and on his way back to England.  Merlin helped, creating a fake ID for him so he looked like one of Sam’s younger brothers.  Dean showing up a day later also helped. 


They managed to get Sam loaded into the Kingsman jet and were on their way back to England when Gabriel got the call that he was needed in Italy.  Militant group attempting to take power and they needed to be stopped. 


“Leaving already?” Sam asked, blinking his eyes open slowly to smile at Gabriel.  “Saving the world again?” 


Gabriel swallowed hard and stared at Sam.  His heart turned over in his chest and he nodded.  “Yeah, as usual.”  Sam’s smile softened even further and Gabriel had to look down at the carpet of the plane so he didn’t say or do something he’d regret.  “I’d uh, I’d better get some shut eye since I’m going to take off right after we get home.” 


“Of course, Gabriel,” Sam said, closing his eyes.  “Safe travels, happy hunting.” 


Gabriel couldn’t say anything after that, he could only ignore the knowing look from Dean as he hit the button to allow his chair to stretch out into a bed.  Sleep didn’t come for him. 








Gabriel didn’t sleep a lot the following weeks.  Kingsman training had taught him to operate on a minimal amount of sleep. 


What little sleep he did get, he took it at the Kingsman training compound in the emergency suites.  He’d removed all of his things from Sam’s flat, erasing any hint of his stay there.  It had always been temporary. 


Loki lived on the compound with him, but Gabriel could tell he missed Sam’s flat.  Missed the rug in front of the fireplace.  Missed sitting on his feet when he was in the study.  Gabriel didn’t let himself think about it.  Just like he didn’t think about the little updates on how Sam was doing that Merlin tossed his way the longer time went by. 


Sam was in physical therapy. 


Sam had been made Arthur.


Sam and Dean had gone drinking to celebrate Sam coming off medication. 


Sam wishing him well when he saw him between missions, but keeping his distance. 


Gabriel was so focused on avoiding Sam as much as possible, he didn’t realize that it had been six months since the day he had found Sam in Kentucky.


It was natural though, they’d been busy.  It wasn’t because he was actively trying to avoid Sam.  He’d been tired, that’s why he’d turned down Sam’s offer of drinks the few times he’d made it, back in the beginning. 


And then, he was still going through his own physical therapy after he’d had his shoulder dislocated and his arm broken when Sam had offered to catch up with him, so of course he’d refused.  He’d been so angry at his own body, at his inability to do what he should have been able to do, he hadn’t wanted anyone to see him, let alone Sam.


After that, Sam had stopped asking.  His smile had gotten more polite and distant.  What did it matter that his heart shattered a little more with every smile that didn’t feel like Sam?  He was the one who’d gotten in too deep, who’d refused Sam when he reached out.  It was his fault, all of it was his fault. 


Gabriel hunched over the side of bed, trying to smile when Loki padded closer and curled up next to his feet.  “Maybe we should actually try moving into the flat that Kingsman gave us, huh?” 


Loki gave a quiet whimper and Gabriel picked him up, depositing the dog beside him in the bed.  At least Loki wouldn’t leave him.  Gabriel wrapped the blanket around the both of them and pressed his face to Loki’s soft fur.  A sob escaped him before he could muffle it.  The darkness around him felt suffocating, and the room was never really going to be his. 


Sam’s flat might not have been his, but it was better than this. 


Gabriel cried himself to sleep, glad that the room was soundproof and that no one would come looking for him.  Loki wouldn’t judge him.  Never would. 








Another month managed to pass before Sam caught up with him as he was heading to Budapest.




Gabriel stiffened and forced himself to stop.  Sam calling him Galahad felt wrong.  Sam calling him anything other than Gabriel felt wrong.  When had he become Galahad instead of Gabriel?  When that that happened? 


He plastered a smile on his face and turned to Sam.  His hair was almost back to its normal length.  Framing his face as he caught up.  Gabriel nodded to him and put one hand into his pocket, so Sam wouldn’t see how it trembled.  “Arthur, is everything all right?” 


Sam stopped in front of him and gave him a searching look that Gabriel couldn’t do anything more than squirm under.  He cleared his throat and forced himself to look up and meet those hazel eyes.  “Arth-”


“Gabriel,” Sam said. 


Gabriel shoved his other hand into his pocket.  He was sure that Sam saw him, but fuck it didn’t matter, because his hands were shaking.  When was the last time Sam had called him Gabriel?  He couldn’t remember anymore.  When had Sam stopped saying his name?  “Yeah?” he croaked. 


“You’re in no condition to go on this mission.  I’ll have Dagonet handle it,” Sam said, matter of fact. 


Gabriel bristled and glared at Sam.  “I’m fine, I’ve already been briefed by Merlin.  The jet is waiting.”  He turned and stalked towards the door. 


“Then would you tell me why you have spent the last six months living in the temporary quarters here, rather than at your own flat?” Sam called. 


Gabriel froze, with his hand on the door.  “I think that’s none of your damn business, Arthur,” he spat, turning the handle.  He stalked towards the jet that was waiting for him and climbed up the stairs, throwing himself into one of the seats. 


He closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the headrest.  Maybe he could catch a few hours of sleep on the way there.  He needed it.  Gabriel took a deep breath.  If he meditated, he could likely get some real rest. 


“You’re benched, Gabriel.  Until further notice,” Sam said. 


Gabriel snapped his eyes open and glared at Sam, who was sitting in the seat across from him.  “You can’t afford to bench me.  We have too much work to do.” 


“I can, and I am.  You are exhausted, at the end of your rope.  Your mental state is a wreck, you aren’t sleeping, and for some reason, you refuse to leave the training compound,” Sam said, standing up again. 


“Lancelot will be here in an hour to pick you up and take you to your flat, Gabriel.  I suggest you find a way to rest and relax for the remainder of the week.” 


Gabriel glared at Sam’s back as he left the plane and resisted the urge to punch the wall.  He took a few deep breaths and managed to make himself leave the plane.  He ignored the knowing look from Merlin and stalked back to his room.  Loki looked up at him excitedly and Gabriel gave himself a moment to pet him before he started shoving his things into a duffel bag.  His other suit went into the traveling case.


He stopped and looked around the room.  Had he really had so little?  Gabriel sank down on the edge of the bed and hid his face in his hands.  Fuck.  He’d really fucked this one up.  The one good thing he had in his life and he’d managed to get to the point where he had to be told to take a break. 


“Well, you are a mess,” Kali said, walking towards Gabriel, picking up his bangs.  “Come on, I’m taking you home.” 


Gabriel stared at her and managed to push himself up and off the bed.  He let her drive him to what should have been home and stared at the building.  He didn’t even have the key. 


“Get out of the car, Gabriel,” Kali ordered, pulling a key out of her pocket as she walked towards the front door.  She opened it and stepped into the hallway.  “You have Sam to thank for furnishing this place.  On the other hand, you’d know that if you stopped holding him as far away as you can.” 


Gabriel glared at her back as she put the bags on the staircase.  Loki immediately ran into the house, racing around the different rooms and up the stairs.  Gabriel watched him go, wondering if Kali was going to add to the lecture. 


“Now, tell me what happened.  Did you kiss him and he shoved you away?” Kali asked, striding into another room, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of wine. 


“No,” Gabriel said, sinking down into a chair.  A chair that Sam had picked out.  It was comfy, and suited him and he loved it.  Fuck, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to burn the whole place down or just replace every single piece of furniture here. 


Kali sighed and poured them both glasses, handing it to Gabriel, watching as he downed it.  “Then tell me what did happen.  You have rejected every attempt Sam has made to talk to you, let alone speak with you about what is going on between you both.” 


Gabriel put the glass on the side table.  “Nothing happened.  I realized it was stupid to want anything, and-”


“Is that why you’ve refused to move in here?”




“No!” Kali snapped, sipping at her glass before putting it down.  “Had Sam died, I would perhaps understand your reaction more!  But he is alive, Gabriel, he is alive!” 


Gabriel gave her a sour look.  “I’m aware.” 


“Then start acting like it.  Dean, Merlin and I are tired of Sam walking around with his kicked puppy look.  He’s hurt, and you won’t talk to him, Gabriel,” Kali said, picking up her wine again. 


Gabriel sighed and let his head hang.  “Nothing happened Kali.  I thought something might - before everything with Metatron.”  He flinched at Kali’s furious glare. 


“That was almost a year ago, Gabriel!  A year!” 


“I know, I know,” Gabriel muttered pushing his hair back. 


“You obviously don’t know, since you are both miserable without talking to each other,” Kali said, staring at Gabriel.  “Merlin was certain that you would figure things out when you found Sam, but they have only gotten worse.” 


Gabriel didn’t answer, though now guilt was weighing him down.  Of course everyone had noticed.  Everyone had known, to make matters even worse, and he’d managed to hurt Sam.  He stared at the floor and shut his eyes.  “He’s too good for me.” 


Kali took a deep breath.  “Gabriel, I am going to tell you something.  I do not know this, and I will not tell you how I found out.  But you need to hear it right now.” 


Gabriel couldn’t stop himself from looking up at Kali, caught by the seriousness of her tone.  “What?  He isn’t-” 


“He is fine.  But he believes that you discovered how he felt about you and you are disgusted by it, and that is why you are avoiding him,” Kali said. 


Gabriel stared at her, his mouth dry as horror crept over him.  “He, he-”


“He won’t believe anything I tell him.  You kept pushing him away, refusing to speak with him outside a professional capacity.”  Kali stood up and walked to Gabriel, crouching in front of him.  “You didn’t see the devastated look on his face the first time you called him Arthur.”


The sob was wrenched out of his throat before he could stop it.  Gabriel pressed a hand to his mouth and clenched his eyes shut, shaking his head. 


Kali sighed and wrapped her arms around Gabriel.  “You have to talk with him.” 


“He hates me now,” Gabriel whispered.  That was exactly what he’d wanted, wasn’t it?  To push Sam away until Sam didn’t want him anymore.


“You idiot,” Kali said fondly, pulling back to wrap her hands around Gabriel’s face.  “I do not know what he feels for you, but I know that losing your closeness and friendship has devastated him.” 


Gabriel swallowed hard, blinking fast to keep the tears from falling.  “Kali, I can’t-” 


The doorbell rang, interrupting them.  Gabriel stared at Kali in horror.  “You didn’t.” 


“Of course I did.  Sort your shit out Gabriel, or I’m going to do it for you,” Kali said, pointing a finger at him as she headed for the door. 


Gabriel could hear Kali talking quietly with Sam in the doorway.  He’d know Sam’s voice anywhere, but Sam sounded tired, and like he was arguing with Kali.  Gabriel bit down on his lip and stood up.  Well, if they were going to have this conversation, he was done running away from it.  Might as well fucking face up to it now. 


He cleared his throat and interrupted the vehement argument Kali and Sam were having in his doorway.  “Sam, please come in.  Kali, I’ll see you sometime this week.” 


Kali met his eyes and Gabriel swallowed hard.  He nodded at her and turned his attention to Sam.  Loki came bounding down the stairs and ran for Sam, greeting him eagerly with barks and small yips. 


Gabriel watched as Kali closed the door behind her.  A sense of finality settled over him.  They were going to figure things out.  Either that, or they’d ruin them forever.  He swallowed hard and whistled, watching as Loki padded back towards him. 


“Go hang out by the fireplace,” he said, watching as Loki immediately made his way into the living room and flopped down in front of the fireplace.  He swallowed and took a deep breath, turning to look at Sam.  Who was standing there like he could wait forever, his suit perfectly crisp, and his umbrella held carefully in his hands. 


“Hey, Sam,” he said, watching some of the tension start to bleed out of Sam.  Gabriel smiled and watched Sam rest the umbrella next to the front door.  “Been a while.” 


“Yes, it has,” Sam agreed, walking closer to Gabriel.  “By your own design, I believe.” 


Gabriel winced.  Yeah, fuck, he deserved that.  He cleared his throat and gestured towards the front sitting room.  “Have a seat?” 


Sam shook his head.  “You don’t know where the liquor is.  You sit and I will go get us something to drink.  I have the feeling you will require it.” 


Gabriel walked back over to the chair he had been in before and dropped his face into his hands.  Sam sounded robotic, and it wasn’t hard to miss the thread of hurt in his voice now that he wasn’t trying to run away.  Fuck, he’d done this to Sam. 


Sam’s soft footsteps returned and this time he was holding a bottle of brandy and two glasses.  Gabriel wanted to laugh, because the last thing he wanted was alcohol.  He took the glass Sam poured for him and gestured to the seat across from him and took a deep breath after Sam sat down in it.  “I owe you an apology, Sam.” 


Sam hummed.  “I’d like an explanation to what has been going through your head for the past seven months, Gabriel, instead of an apology.  You’ve been a stranger.” 


“Yeah,” Gabriel whispered, hanging his head as he stared at the glass in his hands.  “I’m sorry about that, Sam.  You didn’t deserve that.” 


“Will you tell me why, Gabriel?” Sam asked, taking a slow sip of the brandy.  Gabriel seemed determined to do nothing but stare at the liquor. 


Gabriel took a shaky breath.  “Everything is so fucked up, Sam.  I don’t know how to fix it.” 


Sam put his drink down on the table beside his chair and stood.  He knelt down in front of Gabriel and put his hands on Gabriel’s knees.  “The first step to fixing anything is to talk about it.  If you can’t trust me enough to tell me, I can request that Kali come back so you can speak with someone at least.” 


“I don’t want Kali,” Gabriel said, glancing at Sam to find worried hazel eyes staring at him. 


“But you can’t talk with me either, can you?” Sam guessed. 


“No, because you are the problem!” Gabriel snapped, looking up to glare at Sam.  He watched shock and hurt flutter over Sam’s face before the bland face of Arthur returned, and it was the same one that hurt to see any time he did.  Sam’s hands were pulled off his knees and Sam was standing up when he remembered what Kali had told him. 


“Fuck, no, wait!” Gabriel said, putting his glass to the side and scrambling to stand up, grabbing the back of Sam’s suit.  “Stop, fuck, just wait for a second!” 


Sam cleared his throat.  “I think you’ve made it perfectly clear-”


“No I fucking haven’t!” Gabriel growled, holding onto Sam’s suit even tighter.  “You are a bloody fucking problem, because I am in love with you and I can’t stop being in love with you!” he blurted, clenching his eyes shut. 


Sam was frozen in front of him and Gabriel was breathing hard, panting.  Well, fuck, now it was over.  It wasn’t like he’d just ripped his heart out and put it on a fucking plate for Sam to knock to the floor or anything.  He tried to calm his breathing, but now it was out in the open and there was no hiding it anymore.  Gabriel dropped his hand away from Sam’s suit and stepped away from him, going for the glass he had left on the table, downing it quickly, glad he had the burn of alcohol to distract him for a few seconds. 


“I knew I was in trouble when you bought me this suit.  Because, don’t get me wrong, I’m used to wanting people.  That shit wasn’t new,” Gabriel swallowed and poured himself another glass.  “But you wanted me too, even if it was only just that day.  And then, everything with the final test happened, and you looked so fucking disappointed, and I knew I was a goner.  Fucking stole my heart when I wasn’t looking with those dimples and fucking half-smiles of yours.” 


He downed the second glass and set it back down on the table and then collapsed into the seat, keeping his eyes closed so he didn’t have to look at Sam, and at the pity he knew was in his eyes.  “And then you died. You fucking died, Sam.  And we had to save the world.  I moved in to your place afterwards, because I was a fucking wreck.  And being there, at least, fuck, at least I could pretend you weren’t dead for a little longer.” 


“Dean told me,” Sam said, his voice quiet.  “That you two would drink together and sometimes you’d talk about me.” 


Gabriel clenched his eyes shut.  “I was so angry at you for dying.  Because I had so much I wanted to say to you and then I couldn’t!” 


“But I came back.” 


“And then,” Gabriel rubbed at his eyes for a minute.  “Then you came back.  And it’s like, everything I wanted to say, but still couldn’t.  Because I couldn’t drag you down like that.  I’m, fuck, I’m no one Sam.  Never fucking have been.  You can put a nice suit on a pile of shit, but it’s still a pile of shit.” 




Gabriel gave a harsh exhale.  “So I decided to stay away, because that was easier than fucking getting closer and falling more and more in love with you.”  He pushed his hand through his hair and growled.  “And then you somehow ended up with the impression that I found out something about you and that’s what I was angry at.” 


Silence.  It was almost worse than the looks that he had been getting from Sam.  “And somehow, as a result, we ended up in the mess we’re currently in.  So there, I’ve spilled my guts.  Now we need to fix this shit so we can both move on with our lives.” 


Sam’s shoes didn’t make any noise on the carpet, but Gabriel could feel him walking closer and shuddered.  Fucking bastard.  He could barely hear Sam breathing, let alone making other noise. 


“You aren’t a pile of shit,” Sam said, kneeling down in front of Gabriel.  “Far from it, in fact.” 


Gabriel snorted and blinked his eyes open a few times to stare at Sam.  “I don’t know where you’ve been, but I’m pretty sure you aren’t going to convince me otherwise.” 


“Gabriel, you saved the world.  You, Lancelot and Merlin stopped six billion people from being killed.” 


“Plenty of people died,” Gabriel protested. 


“True,” Sam allowed.  “But far more were saved because of what you were able to do.  You saved them.” 


Gabriel shook his head and sighed.  “That doesn’t magically turn me into something I’m not.” 


“Kingsman has never wanted you to be anything other than what you are.  As long as you can adapt to the situation, no one has ever said that you needed to change,” Sam said, reaching out to touch Gabriel again.  “Didn’t you learn that?” 


Gabriel stood up and pushed past Sam to pace in the room.  “Doesn’t fucking matter.  Also, out of everything I said, you choose that piece to focus on?” 


“It required the most immediate response,” Sam said, watching Gabriel make another frantic circuit of the room. 


“Sam,” Gabriel said, giving a harsh laughing, pushing his fingers through his hair.  “Do you not get it?  Do I really have to fucking spell out for you what I did before Kingsman?  What I did to put food in Anna’s mouth?  Just fucking tell me you don’t want me anymore and I’ll figure out a way to get over it.” 


“Is that why you think I’m here?” Sam asked, stepping into Gabriel’s path, forcing him to a stop.  “To tell you I don’t want you anymore?” 


Gabriel threw his arms up.  “I don’t fucking know why you’re here Sam!  Kali called you here so we could straighten our shit out, I’ve fucking bared my heart and soul, I don’t think we have anything left to-” He cut himself off and froze, looking up at Sam.  “Wait.  Wait a fucking second.” 


Sam was smiling at him again, the smile that reached his eyes and showed off his dimples.  The smile that he’d fucking missed in the past six months.  “You said anymore,” Gabriel whispered.  “You want me?” 


Sam laughed and shook his head, reaching out to cup Gabriel’s face in his palms.  “Gabriel.  You broke my heart the first time you called me Arthur.  I thought you must have known, that you had to know, and that was how you were pushing me away.” 


Gabriel was frozen, staring up at Sam, the words slowly filtering through his mind, altering the picture of the last seven months.  “Know what?” 


Sam gave him another smile, and this one made him seem years younger.  It was a shy, hesitant smile.  Gabriel spared a moment to think that ‘in love’ was a damn good look for Sam before Sam was leaning closer to him. 


“You don’t need to change who you are, or where you have come from Gabriel.  You are so much more than you even realize,” Sam whispered, stroking his thumbs over Gabriel’s cheeks.  “Your past made you who you are.  Who you are is amazing and I love every part of you.” 


Gabriel was pretty sure he was shaking, and Sam’s thumbs were swiping over his cheeks like he was wiping away tears.  But then Sam was kissing him and it didn’t matter, nothing fucking mattered now. 


He threw his arms up and around Sam’s shoulders, yanking him in closer.  Gabriel let himself melt into the gentle kiss, the feel of Sam’s hands still cradling his face enough to have him shivering.  When Sam finally pulled away to look at him, he grinned. 


“I’ve missed that grin of yours,” Sam admitted, stroking a thumb over Gabriel’s lower lip. 


Gabriel laughed and nipped at the pad of Sam’s thumb.  “And I’ve missed that fucking smile of yours.  God, we’re a couple of fucking idiots, aren’t we?” 


“Indeed,” Sam said, smiling.  “However, Gabriel…” 


Gabriel tensed, bracing himself for what came.  It didn’t matter, none of it did, he was going to have Sam and he was going to keep him.  “Yeah?  What is it?  Did I fuck something up already?” 


Sam laughed and shook his head.  “No, no, everything is fine.” 


Gabriel hummed when Sam kissed him again, soft and slow.  He blinked his eyes open a moment later and smirked.  “Okay, well, if everything is fine, then what do you say we take this to somewhere horizontal where we don’t have to worry about you fucking towering over me?” 


“Gabriel…” Sam said, trailing off.  “I, are you certain?  I am nearly two decades older than you are.” 


Gabriel blinked and stared at Sam for a second before he burst out laughing.  He reached out and grabbed Sam’s hand, turning away from him and yanking him towards the stairs.  He left his luggage downstairs and looked around the landing for a second, wondering which room was the master. 


“On the left, Gabriel,” Sam said. 


“Thank you!” Gabriel sang as he tugged Sam towards the door, throwing it open and fumbling around for the light switch.  Now that they were upstairs, Gabriel kicked off both of his shoes and stripped off his jacket, hanging it over the chair in front of a desk. 




“Nope, you’re going to strip while I talk for a second here,” Gabriel said, undoing his tie before laying it over his jacket.  He raised an eyebrow at Sam and waited until Sam had at least removed his jacket before he kept talking.  “First of all, yes, I’m fucking certain.” 


He stripped off his socks and took off his shoulder holster, adding it to the growing pile.  “I thought you were fucking gorgeous the first time I saw you standing outside the fucking police station.  Wanted to drop to my knees right fucking there.” 


Sam made a startled noise behind him and Gabriel chuckled.  “Didn’t get any better with all of your ‘Come Gabriel’’s and shit.  Seriously, you’re a walking double entendre, you’re lucky I haven’t jumped you.” 


“So the fitting room…?” 


“Was me finally realizing you wanted me too and Jesus, if Iseult hadn’t been there, I would have been on my knees for you in half a second.  You were in that light grey suit that makes you look fucking unfairly delicious,” Gabriel said, stripping off his pants and then boxers, leaving his boxers on the floor, but adding his pants to the pile on the chair. 


He turned to Sam with his hands on his hips, trying not to blush when his dick slapped against his belly, hard, ready and leaking.  Fuck Sam if he made fun of him for being eager.  He narrowed his eyes when he saw that Sam was still standing here in his shirtsleeves, vest and pants. 


Gabriel huffed and stalked closer to Sam.  “You have a problem with stripping there, Sam?” 


Sam shook his head.  “No, not at all Gabriel, I just…”


“All right, I’m not picky!” Gabriel said, approaching Sam.  “Fantasized about blowing you in that suit more than once.”  So had Sam, if the bulge in his pants was anything to go by.  Gabriel fell to his knees, glad that Sam had picked out a plush carpet for his bedroom before nuzzling the bulge through Sam’s pants. 


“I think I’m going to blow you, just like this,” Gabriel whispered.  “You in the suit, with the fucking holster still on.”  It was a hot idea and fuck if he couldn’t feel his cock getting harder at the thought. 


He reached up and started to undo the button on Sam’s pants and slowly pulled down the zipper.  “Last chance to tell me no, Sam,” Gabriel warned, glancing up at him.  Long fingers immediately combed into his hair, just like they had on the day he found Sam and Gabriel groaned. 


“Yes,” Sam breathed, tugging on Gabriel’s hair.  “Please, Gabriel.” 


He didn’t need anything more than that.  Gabriel licked his lips and yanked down Sam’s boxers, pulling his dick out.  “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he whispered, leaning in and licking a stripe from the base to the tip, sucking the tip into his mouth. 


Sam groaned above him and the sound was delicious, decadent even.  Gabriel swallowed Sam, taking him in inch by inch until was swallowing around the tip in the back of his throat. 


“Beautiful,” Sam said, combing his fingers through Gabriel’s hair.  “Gabriel, please, I need-“ 


Gabriel pulled off and licked his lips, clearing his throat.  “Shut up,” he ordered, looking up at Sam.  “Shut up, let me do this, because I’m fucking amazing at it and I’ve wanted to do it to you since I fucking met you.  Got it?” 


Sam only gave him a bemused grin and a nod and Gabriel decided that was all he needed before he dove back in, swallowing Sam whole and bobbing his head, fast and eager.  The posh bastard was big and the weight of his cock on his tongue was perfect.  He let his eyes fall to half-lidded as he stared up at Sam, watching his breathing speed up with every pass of his mouth, his hands tightening in his hair. 


It was intoxicating, watching Sam lose control, inch by inch.  When there were low, unrestrained groans escaping Sam, Gabriel started to move faster, pulling out all his tricks to get Sam to lose every single bit of that precious control of his. 


Sam didn’t last long after Gabriel lifted both hands to Sam’s ass and gave a slow squeeze, pulling him into each thrust and encouraging to move.  He felt Sam’s cock stiffen in his mouth and he pulled back, sucking hard on the head, glancing up to see Sam throw his head back and shout his name before he needed to swallow. 


He did, eagerly, licking his lips and leaning back to admire Sam like this.  This was going into the permanent file of his spank bank, and he had a feeling that sooner, rather than later, that file was going to include nothing but mental images of Sam. 


But like this? 


In his shoes, white crisp shirt, no tie, first button undone, jacket removed, his pants unbuttoned only enough to get his dick out, Sam had never looked more tempting, or more fucking gorgeous.  Gabriel groaned and wrapped a hand around the base of his dick.  Fuck, he needed to come, yesterday. 


“No,” Sam ordered, grabbing Gabriel’s forearm and pulling his hand away.  Gabriel whined and couldn’t stop his hips from bucking towards Sam. 


“No, no, fuck, Sam, please, I need to come, I fucking need it, please,” he begged. 


“You will, don’t worry Gabriel,” Sam said, leading Gabriel over to a chair that was across from the bed.  He did up his pants a moment later and sat down.  “As eager as I am to get you horizontal, I have to admit that this, is a fantasy of sorts, if you will oblige me?” 


Gabriel swallowed down a groan and stood in front of Sam as he settled into the chair, holding his legs together.  “Fuck, you have to know I’ll give you anything,” he whispered, swaying closer. 


Sam reached up to brush his thumb along Gabriel’s lower lip.  “I know you will, you beautiful, beautiful boy.  But this will be for both of us.  Straddle me.” 


Gabriel shivered at the tone in Sam’s voice and did as he was asked, carefully straddling Sam in those pants, planting his knees into the chair on either side of Sam’s hips.  “All right, now what.” 


Sam wrapped a hand around Gabriel’s cock and gave a slow stroke.  “I watch you, as I get you off, like this.” 


“Fuck,” Gabriel whined, flexing his thigh to drive his cock into Sam’s hand, setting a desperate rhythm.  He reached out and gripped Sam’s shoulders, which brought their faces even closer together. 


Oh,” Sam whispered.  “Yes, just like this.  So I can watch your face.  Each and every little reaction to my touch.” 


Gabriel whimpered and rocked into every stroke of Sam’s hand, biting down on his bottom lip.  “Fuck, Sam, you’re going to kill me talking like that!” 


“Only little deaths,” Sam teased, swiping his thumb across the tip. 


Gabriel bucked, his entire body jolting, and when Sam repeated the touch, he tried to open his mouth, tried to warn Sam, because he was going to mess up Sam’s suit and he had no control, especially not when fucking straddling Sam like this and the bastard looking at him like he was.  “Sam, I can’t, fuck!” 


“Yes,” Sam whispered, leaning in to kiss him again. 


Gabriel moaned into the kiss, tilting his head into it, letting Sam lick into his mouth, his whole body shuddering.  He wasn’t going to last, there was no way that he could last like this a single second longer. 


He bucked into Sam’s hand twice more before tightening his grip on Sam’s shoulders, his head falling back as he came, exploding all over Sam’s hand and shirt, letting himself have a few deliciously slow slides through the mess he’d made before he slumped down, boneless. 


“That was far more beautiful than I ever could have imagined,” Sam said, bringing his fingers to his lips, licking Gabriel’s come off of them. 


Gabriel stared at Sam, his dick giving a hard twitch against his thigh. “Are you trying to get me worked up again?” 


“Perhaps,” Sam said, sucking one finger into his mouth, before pulling it out with a pop.  “I do still have to get you horizontal as I recall.” 


Gabriel gave a delighted laugh and leaned in for another kiss.  “Fuck, I love you, you kinky bastard.” 


“I’m not the one sitting naked in the lap of someone still mostly clothed,” Sam pointed out. 


Gabriel looked down at himself and smirked, looking up at Sam through his bangs.  “Maybe not, but you are the one who put me here, remember?” 


“Oh yes, and I have a great deal many other places that I would like to put you,” Sam said, patting Gabriel’s thigh.  “Now, off my lap.  Get on the bed.” 


Gabriel scrambled towards the King bed that took up a large portion of the room and flopped back on it.  He tilted his head up just enough to watch Sam strip off his remaining clothes.  A thought occurred and he started laughing. 


“Gabriel?” Sam asked as he climbed on the bed. 


Gabriel rolled over on top of Sam and planted his hands on either side of Sam’s shoulders, still grinning.  “So I’ve got only one question for you.” 


“Of course, Gabriel.” 


“Does this make me the Bond Girl, or you?” 


aria_lerendeair: (Default)
Title: Manners Maketh Man

Author: Aria_Lerendeair

Artist: Bright-Pyrite - CHECK OUT THE AMAZING ART!!!!  

Beta: Kate, you wonderful, fucking amazing darling you.  <3  

Pairing (if any): Gabriel/Sam (Sabriel)

Genre/Tropes: Spy AU

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 38,382

Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the Kingsman Movie, I draw very heavily from it in places, and though I don't own the Kingsman story, I do own some of the additional plot points I added that I wish I could have seen in the movie.  

Summary: Gabriel Novak had known, since he was twelve years old that he would never amount to anything worthwhile.  He'd be a drain on society until his dying day, just like his Dad.  However, when Sam Winchester, a Kingsman agent, waltzes into his life with his bespoke suits, spy gadgets and devastating smile, to give him the opportunity of a lifetime, Gabriel can't say no.  Oh, and they have to save the world.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

aria_lerendeair: (Default)
 Title: Manners Maketh Man

Author: Aria_Lerendeair

Artist: Bright-Pyrite

Beta: Kate, you wonderful, fucking amazing darling you.  <3  

Pairing (if any): Gabriel/Sam (Sabriel)

Genre/Tropes: Spy AU

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 38,382

Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the Kingsman Movie, I draw very heavily from it in places, and though I don't own the Kingsman story, I do own some of the additional plot points I added that I wish I could have seen in the movie.  

Summary: Gabriel Novak had known, since he was twelve years old that he would never amount to anything worthwhile.  He'd be a drain on society until his dying day, just like his Dad.  However, when Sam Winchester, a Kingsman agent, waltzes into his life with his bespoke suits, spy gadgets and devastating smile, to give him the opportunity of a lifetime, Gabriel can't say no.  Oh, and they have to save the world.



The Kingsman compound was quiet when Gabriel got out of the shuttle.  He strode past the dorms, not letting himself look into them as he headed for the conference room where Arthur’s office was. 


He’d either get permission to help, and then do the job that needed to be done, or get rejected, arm himself to the teeth from the Kingsman shop, and then go hunt down Metatron on his own.  Gabriel pushed open the door to the office and stood in the doorway, staring at Arthur. 


“Gabriel, come in,” Arthur said. 


Gabriel gave him a wary look, but walked into the room. 


“Do you know what this is?” 


Gabriel looked at the bottle and then back to Arthur.  “Brandy, if I had to guess.” 


Arthur chuckled.  “This is a Napoleonic brandy from 1815.  We only drink it when we’re toasting one of our own that has fallen.  Tonight we toasted Galahad.  But you knew that already, didn’t you?” 


Gabriel watched as Arthur poured them both drinks, walking closer.  “I did.”  There was no point in denying it.  “Sam told me you were a bit of a stickler for the rules.  Why are you breaking them now?” 


“Galahad was your mentor.  I believe that allows for an exception,” Arthur said, waving at the seat next to him. 


“Thanks,” Gabriel said, sitting down.  He picked up the glass and sniffed it.  Sam had given him a book on different types of drinks and alcohols for his last birthday, and he had maybe been a bit obsessive about reading it.  Something was wrong with the color.  He glanced at the larger bottle and studied it. 


“Galahad was very proud of you for getting as far as you did, Gabriel.”


Gabriel hummed, looking around the room.  Something was off.  Arthur wasn’t this friendly.  Was usually damn-near hostile around him.  Kingsman 101 training, when something felt off, it was.  He looked up at the portraits hanging in the room behind Arthur.  “Are those founding members?” 


Arthur turned to them and Gabriel caught sight of the scar behind his ear.  The same scar the professor had had before Sam was injured.  The one that he had managed to capture with his video feed.  The same scar.  The one that Metatron’s assistant had had during his demonstration.  Metatron had gotten to Arthur, somehow.  In a blink, Gabriel switched their glasses and smiled blandly when Arthur turned back to him. 


Trust no one.  If he couldn’t trust Arthur, the other Kingsmen were likely out as well.  Who could he trust?  Merlin, maybe.  Sam’s brother, Dagonet, not that he knew how to contact him.  Kali.  Kali would have told Metatron to take his stupid fucking idea and go stuff.  Just like Sam.  Gabriel swallowed down the wave of pain and raised his drink in a toast. 


“To Galahad.” 


Gabriel didn’t bother echoing the toast as he swallowed down the brandy, watching as Arthur stood and dusted off his pants.  “When did Metatron get to you?”


Arthur chuckled.  “Smarter than you look, boy.  Sam was right about you.” 


Fuck.  Gabriel looked down at the empty glass in front of him and stood up as well.  Arthur held up a pen in front of him. 


“Do you know what this is?” 


Gabriel stared at it and swallowed.  “Sam showed me, yeah.”


“Will you join me, Gabriel?  I could make you my proposal for Galahad’s position.  You could have another chance.  As far as you got in training, I have no doubt you would succeed this time,” Arthur said. 


Gabriel scowled at Arthur and raised his eyebrows.  “You want to tell me why the fuck you are doing this?” 


“Because,” Arthur said, smirking.  “When the world ends, and there is only one billion of us left on the planet, we will shape the world.  It will be paradise.  None of the issues, problems, fighting that exists today.  It will all be gone, because we survived together.” 


“If you think that’s true, you’re fucking mental,” Gabriel snarled. 


Arthur nodded calmly.  “Is that your final answer?” 


“You fucking bet it is,” Gabriel growled, glaring at him.  “I would rather die, and be with Sam than I would to live in your perfect fucking paradise!” 


“So be it,” Arthur said.  “Then you know that once I do this,” he said, twisting the cap.  “I’ve activated the gel in your drink.  You’ll be dead in less than twenty seconds.  Sorry m’boy, but I couldn’t have you-ghurk-” 


Gabriel watched Arthur slump over the table, his eyes going wide in horror.  He tapped his cheek and smirked.  “You know, I learned slight of hand long before I showed up here.  That’s the problem with you blokes.  Too fucking arrogant.” 


“You little f-fucking…” 


Gabriel ignored Arthur’s last death croak and grabbed the pen that had fallen to the table.  He uncapped it and turned towards Arthur.  Using the nib of the pen, he cut the chip out of Arthur’s neck.  Merlin could make some use of this, if he fucking believed any of it.  Gabriel grabbed Arthur’s phone, pocketed it after looking at the countdown clock.    


He stole the pocket scarf in Arthur’s pocket and wrapped the chip in it before stuffing it in his pocket as well.  Now he needed to get the fuck out of here and find Merlin and Kali. 


Gabriel headed for the door, but paused in the doorway.  He looked back at the bottle of brandy on the table.  If he managed to fucking live through this, he knew exactly how he was going to celebrate it!  He smirked.  Time to go save the world! 


The pocket with Merlin’s phone received another safety notification about getting to a bunker and Gabriel cursed, turning to sprint for the engineering level.  It was late, and if he was lucky, then Merlin would be the only one of the staff there, and he could attempt to explain everything. 


“Hold it right there, Gabriel.” 


Gabriel cursed and lifted his hands behind his head, turning to look at Kali.  “Kali, I have to speak with you and Merlin, please, it’s fucking urgent.” 


Kali shook her head.  “They’re not going to take you back, Gabriel, not this time.  They’re over and done with.” 


“I don’t give a fuck if Kingsman robs me of every single valuable item I have ever had.  We have to stop Metatron and what he’s fucking planning!” 


“And what exactly is that?  All I know is that you’ve murdered Arthur-“


“No I bloody well didn’t, Kali!  He tried to kill me and I stopped him, look!” Gabriel said, reaching in his pocket for the phone there. 


The sound of Kali’s gun cocking had him freeze.  Gabriel raised his hands and stared at Kali.  “Kali, you have to listen to me.  Arthur’s phone is in my pocket.  It’s counting down, to the end of the bloody world and we need to stop it!” 


Footsteps approached and Gabriel felt the weight of his phone leave his pocket.  He tensed until Merlin entered his line of vision.  “Arthur had the same scar.  He offered to let me join him, switched our spiked drinks and he ended up dead.  His implant is in my right pocket.” 


Kali and Merlin shared a look and Gabriel could feel himself getting desperate.  He had to get them to believe him, but a thought occurred.  “Merlin,” he said. 


Merlin turned to look at him and Gabriel flinched, but he had to ask.  “How do I know that Metatron didn’t get to you too, Merlin?” 


Merlin merely stared at him before he quirked an eyebrow, reaching out to pull out the scarf stuffed in his pocket.  Gabriel swallowed hard as he unwrapped the scarf and took out the chip. 


“Kali, it’s all right.  This is Arthur’s phone, and it’s receiving updates about getting to a safe zone.”


Kali lowered the gun, but Gabriel only stepped closer, his eyes trained on Merlin.  “Merlin, you didn’t answer my question.” 


“I didn’t answer your question, because it’s a bloody stupid question.  Do I look like I have the hairline to hide that scar?” 


Gabriel couldn’t help the burst of surprised laughter that escaped him.  “Oh fuck, I didn’t even think of that.” 


Merlin snorted.  “No, you clearly didn’t.  However, since you do raise an excellent point that we have no idea who we can trust, we’re going to need to take care of this ourselves, there’s not a lot of time.  C’mon you two.” 










“Have you figured out what the fuck this is yet?” Gabriel asked, kicking the large black bag that held several different yellow pieces.  Merlin had had them lug the thing (and it was fucking heavy) aboard, just before they took off. 


He picked up a piece that looked like a gaming joystick and fiddled with it.  “I mean seriously, what kind of use could a fucking thing like-“ 


“What you’re playing with,” Merlin interrupted.  “Is a trans-atmospheric vehicle.  It was designed back during Reagan’s administration.  First of it’s kind.” 


Gabriel looked down at the joystick and put it back down, carefully, on the pile.  No need to be fucking things up before they even really got started saving the world. 


“So here’s what we’re going to do.  Kali, you’ll be in this,” Merlin said, kicking the bag of parts.  “You’re going to go up to the edge of the atmosphere and take out one of Metatron’s satellites.  Price being the sharp shooter on the team pays.”  He looked to Gabriel.  “That’ll buy us at least two hours while he re-routes the signal.” 


Gabriel swallowed hard when Merlin turned to look at him. 


“You’ll get me a way in to his network, and I’ll hack it, then we can stop this from happening when we are far, far out of range.” 


“All right,” Gabriel said, nodding.  “Makes enough sense to me, so we’d better get ready.  How far out are we?” 


“At least two hours from Kali’s drop zone.  If you can, I suggest both of you take a rest.  Gabriel, I’ll need to wake you up an hour early.  Kali, change into your helo suit.” 


“Yes, Merlin,” They both replied in unison. 


Gabriel settled into one of the seats while Kali headed into the back to get changed.  They didn’t have long now.  Fuck, when had his life turned into a spy movie!  They were flying to the lair of a secret villain to stop a plot to end the damn world.  In what world was this even remotely normal? 


Kali was able to doze off almost immediately after changing, but Gabriel couldn’t get his mind to quiet enough so that it could.  He walked over to where Merlin was examining the implant under a magnifying glass.  “So what do you know about it?” 


“It’s designed to counter-act the signal that is going to be coming from those sim cards,” Merlin said, tilting it a little to the side. 


Gabriel blinked and stared at the card.  “The signal that turns everyone into a psycho killer?”  His mind wanted to pull up the image of Sam, spinning in that church, deadly grace and movement, but he shook his head, focusing on Merlin. 


Merlin nodded.  “Quite.  However, what Metatron didn’t tell anyone, was that it could also heat their soft tissue to the point where it explodes.” 


Gabriel knew that he was giving Merlin a blank look and he could feel the frustration from the other man.  He grinned a little bit.  “Which means?” 


“It means, the same thing that happened to the Professor that Sam visited, happens.  Head goes kaboom.” 


Gabriel nodded and looked at the micro chip again.  “And how does that help us with what we’re trying to do?” 


Merlin huffed and put the put the chip down.  “It doesn’t.”  He stood and headed for the front of the plane.  “Try to get some rest Gabriel.  You’re going to need it.” 


The reminder didn’t help, but Gabriel dutifully sank back into the seat on the plane and took a deep breath, trying to force his mind to relax. 










“Gabriel, wake up!” 


Gabriel snapped out of his chair and to attention before he even thought twice about it, glaring at Merlin.  “What?” 


“Here.  You’re going to be impersonating Arthur.  You’re going to need to blend in.” 


Gabriel raised both of his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest.  “I’m supposed to play Arthur?  How the fuck do I pull that off?” 


“They’re expecting him.  Here, give them his phone, that’s where the invitation is.  Give them his real name.  Zachariah King.  Oh, and you’re going to need to blend in.” 


Gabriel looked down at the case in Merlin’s hand and snorted.  “Merlin, is that going to fit me?” 


“A bespoke suit always fits,” Merlin said, offering the heavy leather back to Gabriel.  “Just be glad that Sam had it made for you.” 


Gabriel swallowed hard and took the bag from Merlin, his heart pounding in his chest.  Fuck.  This was the suit that Sam had picked out for him that day in the shop.  The day that they couldn’t look away from each other.  The day he knew that Sam wanted him too.  He nodded at Merlin and turned towards the back of the plane. 


He stripped out of his clothes and took out each of the items that were carefully laid in the case.  If Sam were here, he’d probably make some bullshit comment about how he was shedding one skin for another.  That was all well and good, but it was a bunch of bullshit.  He was still him, just wearing way more fucking expensive clothing. 


Gabriel tucked his shirt in carefully, made sure his jacket was settled properly across his shoulders, added his watch, signet ring and glasses.  By the time he straightened to look in the mirror and add the gel to slick back his hair, he wasn’t sure he recognized the person looking back at him in the mirror.  Holy shit. 


If Sam had seen him like this, Gabriel was relatively certain that there is no way they would have been able to keep their hands off each other, and the thought made him laugh. 


He headed back out of the plane to Merlin and Kali and held his arms out, spinning to show off for both of them.  “Not bad, eh?”


Kali gave a wolf whistle.  “So there is a man under all of the snark and swearing.  I was beginning to wonder.” 


Gabriel laughed and gave her a wink before turning to Merlin.  He straightened a little bit more under the gaze of the other Kingsman. 


“Looking good, Gabriel.” 


Gabriel smirked.  “Feeling good, Merlin.” 


A ringing sounded from the cockpit and Gabriel dropped his eyes to Kali.  “Looks like we’re at your drop off zone then, Kali?” 


“Indeed,” Merlin agreed, grabbing the black bag.  “You two, start assembling this while I land.” 












It didn’t take long to get Kali set up with the damn thing.  It wasn’t anything more than a big yellow skeleton with a missile attached to the top of it, but it would do the trick. 


“The balloons will continue to expand as you rise.  You need to wait until you reach the edge of the atmosphere before you fire your missile.  Afterward, you need to disengage immediately from this as you fall, or you’ll burn up on re-entry.” 


Kali nodded and looked up at the balloons.  “Yes, Merlin.” 


Gabriel watched Merlin head back to the plane and strode closer to Kali, reaching out to take her hands.  “Listen to me, yeah?  You can do this.  You’ve got this, and I’ll see you after I’m done getting us into the bastard’s place.” 


Kali swallowed and gave him a nod.  “Yes.” 


“Good girl,” he said, grinning at her. 


“Gabriel, come on, we need to go, we’re out of time!” Merlin called from the steps of the plane. 


Gabriel gave Kali one last grin and dashed back towards the plane.


Now all they needed to do was infiltrate Metatron’s big fucking party for the end of the damn world, stop him, and maybe kill him if he had the chance.  Gabriel grinned and settled into his seat again.  Wasn’t going to take much longer.  Not at all. 














“Gabriel, we’re approaching,” Merlin called. 


Gabriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  He could do this, hell, he’d even been trained to do exactly this.  Now he needed to go in and save the people there.  He stood up and made his way over to the cockpit. 


He tapped his glasses twice and swore at the sight of anti-aircraft missiles and more than sixty men guarding the entrance.  He had no doubt that at any hint of a disturbance, they would be on his ass in a heartbeat.  “Holy fuck,” he whispered.  


“You’ve got that right,” Merlin said, flicking another switch and angling the plane for landing as the anti-aircraft missiles were pointed away from the plane.  He took a deep breath.  “I’m going to stay here, as I am your pilot.  You get in there and get me online.  Got it?” 


Gabriel nodded as the plane finally slowed to a stop.  He summoned up an image of Baldur and straightened his spine.  If he wanted to fit in with a bunch of posh snobs, well, he had the perfect fucking model to be able to do so at least. 


He stood and jogged down the steps of the plane, pulling out his phone to present to the woman that was waiting for him with five different armed guards.  Time to turn on the charm.  Gabriel smiled at her and presented his phone.  “Zachariah King.” 


She didn’t do more than glance at the phone before handing it back to him.  Gabriel relaxed and grinned again when she held up a scanning rod. 


“Mister King, welcome.  I’m sure that you’ve remembered Metatron’s strict no-weapons policy, however, may I?”


Gabriel held out his arms.  “Of course.” 


“Do you have any luggage, sir?” 


Gabriel turned back to where Merlin was still standing in the doorway of the plane.  “Congratulations Mycroft, you’ve been promoted form my pilot, to my valet.”  He could see the exasperated look from Merlin and gave the woman a genuine grin when he turned back around and followed her deeper into the base. 


The walk took them past dozens of cells and it was easy to hear people calling out from behind them.  Gabriel recognized a voice or two.  Well, that explained one other mystery, where all of those missing persons had gone.  Metatron had them locked up in a massive facility that was more maze-like than he was expecting. 


When Metatron’s assistant stopped in front of a party (full of snobs, perfect he’d fit right in pretending to be like Baldur), and gestured him in, Gabriel gave her another winning smile and stepped into the room. 


His eyes went straight to Metatron, standing in a glass room, almost twenty feet above them, a large desk spread out in front of them. 


“Would sir care for a drink?” 


Gabriel turned to the waiter.  “Absolutely.  Martini.  Gin, not vodka, obviously, stirred for ten seconds while glancing at an unopened bottle of vermouth.”  The man didn’t flinch, only nodded and headed back to where the bar was. 


He spared a moment to wonder if people actually fucking ordered drinks like that, before the martini was in his hand.  Gabriel took a slow sip of it and hummed.  Fucking hell, this was probably how Sam drank his martini’s.  It was easier to ignore the spike of pain through his heart as he stepped deeper into the party. 


“You clocking this Merlin?”  He asked, getting closer to the glass room so his glasses would capture the images properly for Merlin.  He tuned out Merlin talking to Kali and focused on the room.  Seeming distracted would only get him noticed by more people in the room, and he couldn’t afford that right now. 


“Yes.  Stay focused.  Find a way to get me online, now.” 


Gabriel scanned the room, looking for someone with a laptop.  On the second level, there was a man sitting alone with his laptop.  Perfect.  Chance for him to use this new fancy watch of his.  “Got it,” he whispered to Merlin, lengthening his stride as he made his way up the stairs and towards the man he’d seen. 


He took another sip of his martini as he approached.  “Society is dead, long live society.” 


The man looked up at him, smiling and chuckling, and Gabriel recognized him a moment later.  He was the Swedish Prime Minister.  He’d been in the news more than once.  Fuck, it’d feel good to make sure this asshole got what he deserved. 


“Martin Lyndstrom.” 


Gabriel held out his hand and shook it.  “Zachariah King.”  One firm shake.  Just like Sam had taught him.  He cleared his throat and gestured to the computer.  “How’d you get online?  I couldn’t.” 


“Ah, well, it’s pre-authorized connections only.” 


Right, of course it fucking was you wanker.  Gabriel only smiled and glanced down at his watch.  “Oh, I’m sorry, do you have the time?  I think I’m still in my last timezone.” 


He turned a dial on his watch the second the bastard looked away and shot a small dart into his neck.  The second the man slumped, he slid into the seat and pulled the flash drive out of his pocket, plugging it into the computer. 


“Good job, Gabriel!” Merlin called. 


Gabriel focused on the computer in front of him, pretending to type while Merlin’s flash drive did whatever the fuck that it needed to do. 


A long, slim blade was suddenly under his neck and he swore, leaning back in his seat. 


“That’s right you fucker.  Slow and steady,” Baldur breathed against his neck. 


“What the fuck are you doing here?” Gabriel hissed, turning to look at him. 


Baldur rolled his eyes, slowly coaxing Gabriel to stand with him.  “My family were invited, obviously.” 


Over the radio, Gabriel heard one of Kali’s balloons pop and her scream shortly afterward.  Fuck, she hadn’t gotten off the shot yet! 


“Metatron!” Baldur’s voice rang out over the party, causing everyone to hush.  Gabriel swallowed.  Fucking hell if he was holding back on this asshole for one more second. 


“I’ve caught a fucking spy!” 


Gabriel twisted away from the knife, grabbing Baldur into a lock, pressing his signet ring into his neck and flicking it on.  Baldur immediately released him, his body shaking with spasms.  “How does fifty thousand volts fucking feel, hun?” He snarled, pulling his hand back and slamming it with all the force he could manage into Baldur’s cheek. 


The bastard went flying and Gabriel focused on the room again, where everyone, guards included, were staring.  Fucking hell he needed to make a quick exit. 


“Gabriel, I’m online, get back to the plane, now!”  Merlin shouted. 


Absently, Gabriel heard Kali manage to get her shot off before the second balloon popped.  He took two steps forward and grabbed the railing in front of him, vaulting over it and landing back on the main level.  Posh bastards all backed away from him and left a route through the crowd. 


Thank you fucking weak bastards.  Gabriel ducked his head down and sprinted.  Merlin would tell him whatever way he needed to go, he just needed to et there as quickly as fucking possible. 


“Take your next left,” Merlin ordered. 


Gabriel spun on his heel, but did as he was ordered, ducking when a few more guards turned a corner.  He needed to pick up a fucking gun and get the hell out of here! 


“Two guards, now!” 


Gabriel slid down on one knee, kicking the bastard’s legs out from under him, yanking his gun away from him.  The rest of the run back to the plane was a blur of men in white outfits, coming at him like fucking storm troopers, one after another.  Unfortunately, these bastards were a hell of a lot better shut. 


By the time he made it back to the plane, he was panting hard, his chest heaving under the suit.  Thank fuck for bullet proof suit jacket material.  He was going to have some fucking amazing bruises, but that was a hell of a lot better than some bullet holes. 


“Merlin, let’s get the fuck out of here!” 


“We can’t.” 


Gabriel snapped his eyes open and resisted the urge to groan at the look on Merlin’s face.  Fuck that wasn’t a good one.  “Why the fuck not?” 


“Metatron has biometric security.  You’re going to have to go back in there and make sure that his hand never touches that fucking table.” 


Gabriel stared at Merlin and thought of the swarms of guards that he had just fought through.  There were probably twice as many now, fuck!  “Are you fucking shitting me right now?” 


“I’m afraid not, and you need to hurry.” 


Gabriel pushed himself out of the chair and reached for the machine gun in Merlin’s hand.  “Let’s fucking have that then.” 


“Ah, no.  This is mine.  I’ll show you yours,” Merlin said, leading Gabriel to the back of the plane and into the room where he had got changed.  He glanced around once they were both inside and grinned wide when Merlin tilted the picture on the wall just enough to reveal a wall of several different weapons. 


His eyes went to the umbrella and stuck there.  He remembered seeing Sam dispatch Crowley and all of his fucking goons with it and reached for it before he even knew what he was doing. 


“Good choice,” Merlin said, turning to leave. 


Gabriel waited until he had left and then grabbed the pistol, two extra clips and one of the hand grenade cigarette lighters.  Merlin would probably notice if there were two missing and he needed to avoid that.  Not that he could do anything about it. 




Gabriel spun and left the room, striding to the door of the plane.  He and Merlin waited for any wave of guards to come at them in the plane, but when there was nothing, he took off running.  This was what he had trained for, after all.  Now he just needed to get the fuck back into the main room, kill Metatron and live to tell the fucking tale. 


As he sprinted through the corridor, he could hear Metatron counting down through the feed in Merlin’s computer and swore when it hit zero.  Fuck, he wasn’t close yet and he still had to get by all of the guards!  Dammit! 


“Yes!  Well done Lancelot!” Merlin said, relaxing back in his chair.  “Gabriel, the chain is down, but Metatron is going to try reconnecting it immediately.  You have to get to him.”


Gabriel took a deep breath.  Okay, Kali had bought him some time, but he still needed to get to Metatron and stop the bastard from reconnecting the chain of satellites. 


Which was great, in theory, but even he couldn’t fight against a hundred guards and win.  As he turned another corner and opened up the umbrella, catching the immediate spray of gunfire that came his way, he couldn’t miss the number slowly counting down on the integrity of his bullet proof shield.  Fucking thing wasn’t going to last forever. 


He yanked the grenade out of his pocket and activated it, throwing it into the sea of guards.  Why the fuck did Metatron have so many guards in an isolated base like this?  It was fucking ridiculous! 


He turned a corner and a loud boom echoed in the hallway.  Gabriel ducked behind the umbrella again, but there was a hole that got ripped right through the top of it.  A second boom caused a second rip.  Were they shooting at him with fucking fifty caliber rounds?  Talk about overkill! 


Gabriel ran back around the corner, the way he had originally come and nearly ran into another massive wall of guards.  Dread settled over him and he ducked into one of the little inlets created by the cell doors.  “Merlin!  Merlin I’m fucked.  Got a wall of guards on both sides, and I can’t get out of here.” 


He could hear the guards approaching even closer, slowly, cell block by cell block.  He wasn’t going to be protected anymore.  Fuck, fuck, fuck!  “Kali, I need a favor.  Call my Aunt.  Tell her to lock herself away from Anna.  Merlin, call Sam’s brother, tell him to lock himself away from this mess and both of you get to safe fucking places, you understand?” 


Silence on the comm told him that they did.  Gabriel took a deep breath and tightened his hand on his umbrella.  Fuck if he was going down without a fight.  He might be about to die, but he would do it taking down as many of the bastards as he possibly could. 






“Merlin,” he hissed.  “Remember those implants that weren’t of any use to us?  You think you could turn the fucking things on?”  


Stunned silence from Merlin and suddenly the sound of moving had him grinning.  Gabriel took a deep breath and prayed that Merlin could hack his way through this fast enough. 


Now there was the sound of frantic typing in the background.  Come on Merlin, come on, he chanted, cheering him on as he heard the guards get closer.  He was out of fucking time, he had maybe thirty seconds to live if he was lucky. 


The echo of Merlin’s ‘Yes, please’ came over his glasses and Gabriel tensed up when he heard the guards start to move. 


Then there was the sound of explosions.  Gabriel kept himself pressed back against the cell, but there were blood splatters and hats flying fucking everywhere and he couldn’t help but grin.  They’d all had implants, every single fucking one of them had had the implants! 


“Merlin, you’re a fucking genius!!” he shouted, punching the air as he leaned back against the cell. 


“What the fuck is going on out there!” A voice from behind him shouted. 


Gabriel blinked and turned to the door, raising an eyebrow.  He reached out for the hatch in the center of the door and pulled it down.  Angry green eyes met his and he grinned.  “Well hello there.  Aren’t you that Prince that went missing?” 


“Who the hell are you?  Let me out!” 


Gabriel grinned and lazily leaned back against the door.  “If I do, will you give me a kiss?  I’ve always wanted to kiss a Prince or a Princess.” 


The Prince smirked.  “If you get me out of here, I’ll give you more than a kiss.” 


“You bastard,” Metatron’s voice echoed in the hallway and Gabriel stepped away from the cell, looking up. 


“You think I’d put one of those implants in my own head?  You think I’m that fucking stupid?  You think I don’t already have another satellite being re-routed so I can start this all over again in about forty seconds?” 


Gabriel swallowed and tightened his hand on his gun. 


“Do you think you did anything other than murder thousands of innocent people?  For what?  You didn’t stop anything!” 


Merlin’s voice replaced Metatron’s a moment later.  “Gabriel, get going, you have to get his hand off that table and you need to do it fucking now!” 


Gabriel turned back to the Prince in the cell and winked at him.  “Sorry, but I need to go save the world first.” 


“You save the world, I’ll bottom for you,” The Prince said, winking. 


The offer was tempting, but…  “Unfortunately, I’m a bit hung up on someone else,” Gabriel said, winking back at the Prince.  “I appreciate the offer though!” 


Gabriel waved and then started sprinting down the hallway.  He stopped for a moment to pick up one of the machine guns and two extra clips off the now-headless guard and slipped them into his jacket pocket, running for the main party room. 


Now that there were no guards in the way, he made it into the room in sixty seconds.  He started firing at the glass where he could see Metatron almost immediately when the edge of his gun was suddenly cut off. 


“What the fu-“ he swore, immediately diving out of the way when another razor-sharp blade swung only inches past his head. 


He came up immediately and dumped the extra clips out of his pocket.  Gabriel stared at the woman standing across from him and took a deep breath.  She had been in Metatron’s files.  Meg. 


“Well done, Gabriel, you managed to get him off the machine!” Merlin called. 


Gabriel allowed himself one quick smile.  But it wouldn’t take more than thirty seconds if he was lucky before Metatron was back starting up whatever insane countdown he had.  “I don’t suppose you’d just let me put a bullet through his head, would you?” 


Gabriel ducked under the blade that was suddenly aimed for his head and swore.  “Guess that’s a no!”


There was no way he could launch an offensive of any sort when someone was attacking him with razors for legs.  She was lethal, and she could fucking twist in ways that made no sense.  Gabriel slammed his shoulder into her and twisted away when she lifted her leg over her shoulder and tried to stab him that way.  Fucking hell! 


“Gabriel, the world is going to shit, you have to get Metatron’s hand off that desk!” 


Gabriel cursed and went flying into a table as Meg managed to land a knee to his stomach.  At least he’d landed a blow and sent her sprawling as well.  “Working on it!” 


“Is he dead yet?” Metatron shouted over his shoulder. 


“Not yet!” Meg called, smirking widely as she leaned down and sprinted for him. 


Gabriel pushed himself up and ran at her, twisting out of the way of her leg at the last second.  He managed to (barely) tap his heels together and nick her in the arm with the poisoned blade before he landed back on the tile floor hard enough for his jaw to fucking clack together. 


“Tired already?” Meg called, walking closer. 


Gabriel managed to get back to his feet and pulled away the now cut in half tie and scowled.  Sam had picked out that tie for him.  He looked up at Meg and watched as she stumbled and glanced at the cut on her arm. 


“Neurotoxin,” Gabriel said, smiling blandly at her when her expression changed to shock, and then pain before she slumped over. 


“Gabriel!  You have to stop stuff with Metatron now!” 


Gabriel swore and looked around for a weapon, fucking anything he could use to knock the bastard away from the desk. 


His eyes fell back to Meg’s artificial legs.  Well.  She wasn’t fucking using them anymore.  He stumbled closer and managed to unhook one of them, extending the blade.  Gabriel took a deep breath, then ran two steps and chucked the blade towards Metatron. 


He watched it arch through the air before impaling the bastard with a satisfying ‘thunk’.  A second later, Metatron stumbled back from the desk and he could hear Merlin and Kali cheering over the comm. 


“Well done you two, well done both of you!”  Merlin called, sinking back in his chair.  “Gabriel, Sam was right.” 


Gabriel was only half-listening as he walked closer to Metatron.  The bastard was still breathing, but he’d be dead soon.  Gabriel pulled his Kingsman gun out of his inner pocket and put a new clip in. 


“Come to exact revenge on me for your falling friends?” Metatron spat as soon as he caught sight of him. 


Gabriel smiled and pointed the gun at Metatron’s head, savoring the way the bastard’s eyes widened.  “Yes, I am.  This is for Sam.”  He pulled the trigger.  Right in the head.  Just like the fucker had done to Sam.  Gabriel dropped the point of the gun and flicked the safety on before returning it to his holster. 


It was over and done with. 








Except it wasn’t. 


Gabriel made his way back down the hallway and had Merlin give him the code to all of the cells, opening them a minute later.  People flooded into the hallway, all of them looking for answers to what the hell had happened.  He sank down against the wall and closed his eyes. 


“Gabriel, make your way back to the jet, we need to pick up Kali.” 


He opened his eyes and sighed.  Right.  There would still be so much more work to do, now that hundreds of world leaders were dead, thousands, maybe millions of people would be dead too.  There would be a clean up, and then a cover up of some sort.  Gabriel made his way through the crowds of celebrities and royalty, heading back to the hanger where the jet was. 


Merlin was waiting for him, and clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing it.  “Sam would be proud of you, Gabriel.” 


Gabriel ignored the pulse of pain in his heart at the mention of Sam’s name and limped onto the jet.  He settled back into one of the seats and let his head fall back against the smooth leather.  At least he’d managed to avenge Sam.  And he’d saved the day.  He’d even been propositioned by a Prince.  Damn good day all in all. 


Except for the niggling fact that, at the end of it, Sam was still dead.  Gabriel let himself have one moment to wonder if Sam would be proud of what he managed to do, that he’d saved the world before he took a deep breath. 


They would need to know if any of the other knights had been turned like Arthur had.  There would be emergency councils and elections across the world.  There would be chaos, at least for a little while.  He wasn’t done yet.  He couldn’t be done yet. 


Gabriel managed to give Kali a grin when she complimented his suit.  He did look fucking posh as hell in this suit, despite the loss of the tie that Sam had picked out for him.  He’d have to get another when they were back in London. 


He blinked, staring out the window for another few minutes.  Exhaustion was demanding he sleep, and the soreness that he had tried not to think about after tearing through Metatron’s facility, killing Meg, all of it was making his head pound.  He could rest a little while.  Just for a little while.


He was out before he remembered closing his eyes. 








The three months in the wake of Metatron’s attack were a blur.  Gabriel went on more missions than he could have ever imagined wanting too, even as a James Bond-esque super spy. 


To add insult to fucking injury, he’d even assumed Sam’s old title - Galahad.  Merlin assured him there was a sense of poetic justice in doing so, but Gabriel still had to fight the urge to look around for Sam whenever he was addressed by his alias. 


Kali knew, but let him pretend that he was fine.  Merlin pretended that he didn’t know Gabriel was living in Sam’s townhouse.  He didn’t care what they thought of him, how pathetic he was - pining for a man he barely knew. 


The only person who understood was Sam’s brother.  Dean would come to stay in the townhouse, from time to time.  But often, he was never in town for more than one night before he was being sent off on assignment again.  He’d come in often enough when Gabriel was blackout drunk, regretting everything he had never bothered to say to Sam.  They’d even gotten drunk together.  Merlin was worried about him, fuck, about them, but they were too busy to do anything about it. 


He returned the favor when he could, taking Kali out and covering her back while she worked off some of the tension the job gave them, fucking men and dropping them like the flies they were to her.  Merlin was far easier, Gabriel simply had to order Merlin home and have Kali take him there while he covered the base and monitored the missions the other Kingsmen were on. 


When the next class of recruits came in, he wouldn’t be able to do it anymore, but for now, Merlin gave him a quick, grateful smile, and dragged himself up to one of the emergency suites available for all Kingsmen. 


The monitor in front of him beeped.  Incoming transmission, urgent.  Gabriel frowned and opened the file.  All current missions were in steady-state.  Nothing urgent should have come through.  If he’d thought that something could have happened, he never would have been able to tell Merlin to piss off and sleep for eight hours. 


The file was encrypted and he ran the standard translator application on it.  He frowned when the file got more garbled than before.  He downloaded it to his personal tablet and ran another search on the metadata of it.  Where the hell had this message come from and why wasn’t it using standard Kingsman encryption? 


Gabriel ran a few more tests on it, before pulling up the metadata.  The message had originated from…




He ran the metadata again.  Then on Merlin’s computer.  Gabriel swallowed and watched it come back with the same result.  The file had originated in Kentucky, sent to the Kingsman mainframe, which only agents had access to.  It was encoded with a non-standard key, something that…


No.  It couldn’t be.  It couldn’t.  It’d been three months.  Three months!  Sam was…


aria_lerendeair: (Default)
 Title: Manners Maketh Man

Author: Aria_Lerendeair

Artist: Bright-Pyrite

Beta: Kate, you wonderful, fucking amazing darling you.  <3  

Pairing (if any): Gabriel/Sam (Sabriel)

Genre/Tropes: Spy AU

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 38,382

Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the Kingsman Movie, I draw very heavily from it in places, and though I don't own the Kingsman story, I do own some of the additional plot points I added that I wish I could have seen in the movie.  

Summary: Gabriel Novak had known, since he was twelve years old that he would never amount to anything worthwhile.  He'd be a drain on society until his dying day, just like his Dad.  However, when Sam Winchester, a Kingsman agent, waltzes into his life with his bespoke suits, spy gadgets and devastating smile, to give him the opportunity of a lifetime, Gabriel can't say no.  Oh, and they have to save the world.



It was hot. 


Gabriel blinked open his eyes and spit the dirt out that he could taste on his lips.  He looked up at the glaring sun and then down at the dirt road below him.  Sound slowly started to filter into his head and he sat up. 


Fucking Sam had gassed him with something! 


"Ah, good, you're awake." 


Gabriel snapped to immediate attention at the voice in his ear.  He wasn't in London.  Somewhere in South America by the sounds of the Spanish around him.  He was also only in his boxers and people were staring.  "Where the hell am I?" 


"Merlin needed convincing before he would agree to bring you back.  We've skipped ahead a few months," Sam explained.  "You're in Columbia." 


"What's the test?" Gabriel asked, looking around.  Too much attention.  He needed to get off the street and to somewhere that he could grab clothes. 


"This is a resource test," Sam said.  "On your wrist is the location of your passport and a first class ticket to London.  The flight leaves at Midnight.  You must touch English soil within twenty four hours to pass the test.  Fail and you are out.  Understand, Gabriel?" 


Gabriel cursed and stood up, brushing himself off. 


"Also, I would advise getting off the street as quickly as possible.  The local police can be brutal and they aren't likely to take well to a Brit wandering around almost naked in the middle of the day." 


"And whose fault is that?" Gabriel snarled, his eyes widening when a police car came careening around the corner.  Oh shit!  He should have paid more attention to the fucking module about communicating in a country where you couldn't speak the language. 


He held up his hand and watched as the cop advanced, smiling hesitantly.  People all around him were averting their eyes and disappearing.  The street was almost entirely deserted now, so no one wanted to witness him being dragged off.  Okay.  Fuck


The cop had a gun on him and Gabriel looked around for a weapon of any sort.  "Uh, I'm sorry, I'm still learning the local language and I'm not entirely sure-"  He grunted when the business end of the gun was pressed into his chest.  He glanced down.  The safety was still on. 


....fuck it.


Gabriel twisted out of the way of the gun and decked the cop, dropping him with one swift hit. 


"Gabriel, what the hell are you doing?" Sam asked. 


"Fucking improvising!  I'll take his clothes, and he can sit in the back of the car naked and no one'll look twice!" Gabriel said, glancing around to make sure the street was deserted.  He stripped the cop and yanked the clothes on before cuffing the man and throwing him in the back of the car.  Two minutes later, he was sitting in the car, typing the address on his bracelet into the GPS. 


"Okay, so what the hell is this place that I'm heading to?" Gabriel asked, glancing behind him to make sure that the cop was still out.  Good.  He kept the brim of his hat low over his face so he didn't attract any attention. 


Sam hummed.  "Prominent local businessman." 


Gabriel snorted.  Sam was utter shit at lying sometimes.  How in the hell he had ended up as a super spy was beyond him.  "Right, gotcha." 


"What's your plan, Gabriel?" 


Gabriel thought about it as he followed the directions.  Twenty minutes out.  Perfect.  Maybe he'd be able to find someone to lift some money from so he could grab a different set of clothes that wasn't as conspicuous. 


"Show up, say I need to search the premises, find the ticket and passport and get the hell out of there.  I'm a cop, no reason that they shouldn't listen," Gabriel reasoned, heading towards what was clearly the richer side of town.  He raised an eyebrow when he pulled up to the place and parked the car. 


He straightened his shirt a little bit and made sure none of the dust from before was on his face.  His hair was a bit of a lost cause, but he pushed it back off his face and took a second to climb out of the car.  Time to turn on the charm.  Gabriel grinned and headed towards the front door, only to be stopped by a sudden hail of bullets coming towards him. 


He swore and dove for the car, slamming the door shut behind him as he scrambled behind the wheel.  "What the hell is going on?  Whose house is this?" 


"You fucking asshole!  That's Carmilo Marquez’s house!"


Gabriel spun around and looked at the cop behind him.  "You speak english?!"


"You didn't ask!" The cop shouted back.


Gabriel cursed as he gunned the car out of range of the bullets suddenly raining down on them.  "Who the hell is that?  Prominent businessman?  What the fuck Sam!" 


"Apologies, I should have mentioned he is also the head of the largest drug trafficking ring in Columbia.  You're low on time Gabriel, you need to find a way to get that ticket and get out," Sam said. 


Gabriel looked around the car and then back at the cop, an idea dawning.  "Do you have any machine guns?" 


The cop blinked at him.  "We're in Columbia, of course I have machine guns!  Lots!" 


Gabriel smirked and looked back up at the house.  "How would you like me to take down a good portion of the drug cartel?" 


"You're fucking crazy!" 


Hell fucking yes he was. 


Gabriel grinned and pulled around the corner away from the house and opened the trunk, grabbing all the weaponry that he could manage to fit on his person somewhere.  He straightened his shoulders.  Time to get this done.


Gabriel gunned the engine of the car and pulled away from the front door of the house. 


“And where do you think you are going?” Sam asked, watching the video feed following Gabriel. 


“I’m not about to grab the guns out of the trunk under a rain of gunfire.  Also, I don’t actually want to kill this dude,” Gabriel said, opening the door to the back of the car, where the mostly naked cop was hanging out.  “Sorry man, I can let you go, but I need the outfit for now.” 


Gabriel hummed as he popped the trunk and tossed a few machine guns over his shoulders.  He shoved a couple of extra clips in his pockets and smirked at the fence that was separating him from where his ticket and passport were hiding. 


“You are completely fucking crazy!”


Gabriel waved to the cop as he took off and slid into the front seat of the car.  It was definitely not comfortable, but he was about to make one hell of an entrance. 


He gunned the engine and slammed the car in reverse, pulling up in front of the house.  This time, he didn’t bother stopping on the driveway.  He pushed the car harder, pressing the gas pedal to the floor.  He waited until the front of the car had made it through the doorway before he dove out, managing to roll into a nearby hallway. 


Time to fuck some shit up! 










"He wasn't on the plane, Galahad, there is no Gabriel Novak on the manifest," Merlin said, tapping away at his tablet. 


Sam smiled.  "He'll be here.  Perhaps he was using an assumed name." 


"He is on none of the surveillance cameras.  No one has seen him since he entered that house,” Merlin said, adjusting his glasses.  “By driving a car through the front door. 


“You could say that he made quite the entrance,” Sam said, keeping his hands in his pockets.  "He will be here, Merlin." 


"Even a little early!" Gabriel called, walking up towards the men in front of him.  He kept pointed his gun into the air and stopped a few feet away.  He savored the stunned look on Merlin's face and the other engineers who were giving him incredulous looks. 




Gabriel smirked.  "Every self-respecting drug lord with a house like that has a private jet.  I got to drink champagne the whole way back."  He straightened a little when Sam smiled at him and threw a wink at the others.  "I even brought you all a present." 


He turned and waved the man behind him forward.  "Signed, sealed and delivered, since I thought you might like a little cherry on top."  Gabriel fought down the surge of pleasure when Sam's smile turned into a delighted laugh. 


"Well, Merlin?" Sam asked. 


Merlin nodded at them both.  "Gabriel is to report to his next test tomorrow evening," 


Gabriel couldn't help the huge ass grin on his face as Sam stepped closer to him.  He'd done good, even Sam thought that he had done good.  "So?" 


"Well done, Gabriel, well done," Sam said, turning to lead Gabriel to his car.  "Come, I have a present I wish to give you." 


"Presents?  Hell yeah!" 










Gabriel tried not to bounce on his feet when Sam pulled in front of Kingsman.  He was still buzzing from the last twenty four hours that seemed like a dream.  Adrenaline itched under his skin as he walked towards the front door. 


"So what're we doing now?  Come on Sam, give me a hint," Gabriel pleaded, following Sam towards the back of the shop. 


Sam stopped in front of the desk and smiled at Iseult.  "Dressing room one, please." 


"Dressing room one is currently unavailable, sir," Iseult said, glancing towards the doorway. 


Sam stiffened and looked towards the door as it opened.  Metatron walked out and he smiled blandly. 


"Why Mr. Wesson, I was not expecting to see you here!" Metatron exclaimed, smirking at him.  "Fancy that." 


“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Metatron.  I wasn’t aware you were in town.” 


"Oh yes," Metatron said, lifting his hat off his head.  "After I saw your beautiful smoking jacket, I simply had to have one for myself, and as I had several meetings here that I must attend, I had to stop by to pick one up for myself.  Any recommendations on an excellent haberdashery?" 


"Of course.  Lock and Co, just three blocks down on Bond street, they are the best in London, and I am certain that you want the best,” Sam said, smiling.


Gabriel stared at Sam and then back to Metatron going on.  He stepped forward and held out his hand, grinning wide.  “Gabriel.  Nice to meet you Metatron.” 


Metatron chuckled and shook his hand, his grip a little bit too hard.  “A pleasure, Gabriel.  How do you know Mister Wesson?” 


“Oh, well, he’s-“


“Gabriel is my new valet, and I was just introducing him to my tailor,” Sam said, giving another smile.  “I wouldn’t want to make you late, Metatron, and you do still need time to pick up your top hat.”


Gabriel resisted the urge to scowl at Sam.  Well now there was a whole hell of a lot of tension now in the room.  What the fuck was going on?


"Thank you, I appreciate the car for my time!" Metratron said with a laugh.  He tipped his hat to them before heading out. 


Sam took a slow breath and watched him leave the building, looking towards Iseult, giving him a nod.  "Quickly," he ordered. 


Gabriel was about to ask what the hell that meant when Sam was holding open the door to the dressing room in front of him.  He stepped in and looked to the floor, making sure that he was standing in the center of the carpet for wherever they were going today.  "So what is so special about dressing room one?" 


Sam smiled.  “I’ll show you dressing room one after Iseult is done cleaning up.  This is dressing room three.” 


Gabriel looked around the small room and into the mirror.  He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked, raising an eyebrow.  “We going up or down this time?” 


“Neither,” Sam said.  He gestured to the hooks on the wall.  "Pull that first hook," he instructed. 


Gabriel reached out and tugged on it, and laughed delightedly when the walls in front of him parted, revealing a weapons cache.  "Holy shit, are you serious Sam?"  Sam chuckled behind him and Gabriel walked into the room, looking around at everything. 


"I have done a disservice to you Gabriel.  You have managed quite well on you own, but I will help you get the rest of the way.  Then you will have no disadvantage," Sam said, walking towards the wall, gesturing for Gabriel to follow him. 


"Huh?" Gabriel asked, spinning around after he tore his eyes away from the machine guns on the back wall. 


Sam smiled.  "Your lack of being born with a silver spoon often plays to your advantage in these tests, but, I shall help you in one last area.  All Kingsman suits are bullet proof, the fabric interwoven with a form of kevlar.  Today we will fit you for one, a bespoke suit, as all suits should be."  He gestured to a wall of fabrics. 


Gabriel's mouth dropped open and he laughed, pushing his fingers through his hair.  "Seriously Sam?  So the posh suits aren’t all for show after all!"  Sam’s lips quirked up in a grin, his dimples showing and Gabriel felt his fucking heart flutter.


Sam held up another pair of shoes.  "These here, are Oxfords.  They have open lacing, and while there is a great deal of intricacy in shoes that a gentleman wears, there are simple words to live by.  These here, have what is called broguing." 


The light dawned and Gabriel grinned.  "Oxfords, not brogue."  Sam shot him a smile and handed him a pair. 


"Those are words to live by, Gabriel.  Try these on," he instructed, walking a little further into the room.  "The umbrella, you are already familiar with.  This is our standard issue pistol, which also fires a shotgun shell-"


"Badass!" Gabriel said, grinning at the guns on the wall.  He finished slipping the other shoe on and stood up for inspection from Sam.  Damn, these were nice shoes.  Sam gave him an approving smile and he was going to ignore just how much he liked that smile directed at him like that.  Fucking hot bastard. 


Now," Sam instructed.  "Do your best impression of a German aristocrat's formal salute." 


Gabriel stood up and gave Sam a helpless shrug.  Sam rolled his eyes at him and bent his legs, his heels sliding apart and then together again.  Gabriel grinned wide when a small blade appeared at the tip of his shoes.  "Fuck yes!" 


"Tipped in a very, very deadly neurotoxin.  A simple brush with the blade will be enough to incapacitate and kill," Sam explained. 


Gabriel slapped his heels together and admired the blade.  Little fucker looked sharp as hell too.  "How do I put it back in?" 


"Very carefully," Sam cautioned, pressing the tip of the blade into the wood and letting the blade go back into the sheath. 


Gabriel repeated the motion and looked around the rest of the room.  He walked towards the lighters and lifted one up.  "What does this do?  Electrocute you?" 


"Don't be ridiculous," Sam said, plucking it from his fingers.  "It's a hand grenade." 


"Shut up," Gabriel said, his eyes stuck on the small device on Sam's hand. 


“If you’ll want to electrocute someone, you’ll need a signet ring.  Normally, a gentleman wears them on his left hand, however, a Kingsman wears them on his dominant hand,” Sam explained, holding up his ring hand.  “Flick a small switch and it will deliver fifty thousand volts to the opponent of your choice.” 


Sam lit up at the sight of a pen and Gabriel couldn’t help the curl of want that settled down into his damn toes.  He looked so excited.  Gabriel bit down on his lip. 


“Now this?  This is my favorite, out of all of them.  One of our greatest examples of chemical engineering.”  He held up the pen and pulled it apart.  “In here, a deadly toxin.  Harmless if ingested.  Unless…” He flicked the side of the pen.  “Armed, primed…”  He slid the clip back into place and smirked at Gabriel.  “Lethal.  Dead in less than twenty seconds.” 


Gabriel swallowed hard.  Fuck he wanted to pin Sam to the wall and be fucked blind.  “Damn,” he whispered. 


“Sirs, fitting room one is ready,” Iseult announced.


Sam smiled at Gabriel and gestured to the door.  “After you Gabriel.” 


“Why thank you,” Gabriel said, effecting his most posh accent.  Sam threw his head back and laughed, and fuck that was worth it.  He followed Iseult to the fitting room and slipped in behind him, looking around at the much larger room. 


Sam settled into a chair on the opposite end of the room and smiled at Gabriel.  "Now, remove the shoes and everything except for your boxers and stand on the little platform in the center of the room." 


Gabriel turned around before Sam could see how much that statement made him blush.  Bastard.  He needed to learn that Sam didn't mean things like that and he was only saying it because he had to, not because he actually wanted Gabriel to strip for him.  "If you'd wanted me naked, you just had to ask," Gabriel purred, stretching as he stripped off his clothes. 


"I'll keep that in mind," Sam said, walking around in front of Gabriel.  "However, in this case, it's for your fitting.  A bespoke suit is meticulously fitted, and yours will be no different." 


Gabriel met Sam's eyes and smiled, unable to help the thrill of excitement that went through him.  If he was being fitted for one of these suits...then Sam must have confidence that he was going to make it all the way through this damn interview. 


When Sam looked at him again, Gabriel nearly forgot that Iseult was in the room, because he knew that look.  He'd seen it directed his way since he was fifteen and to see it from Sam…


A shiver went up his spine and he licked his lips, waiting for Sam to break the eye contact with him. 


When he passed this test, he was going to make damn sure that Sam knew he wanted that look directed his way a hell of a lot more often.  'Yes,' he mouthed, watching Sam's pupil's grow larger before the taller man looked down, inspecting the handle of his umbrella. The thrill of being wanted, of being desired by Sam was liquid fire in his blood and if Iseult hadn't coughed, he would have been on his knees in front of Sam in seconds. 


As tempted as he was to say anything, spending the next hour being poked and prodded by Iseult wasn’t exactly arousing and Sam seemed determined not to meet his eyes and share that charged llok again. 


Had he misunderstood the look?  Gabriel debated it as they headed back to Sam’s car and drove to the Kingsman compound. 


He had never been more glad to see his bed in the compound, with Loki waiting at the foot of it like he’d never left.  He flopped onto it immediately and gave a low groan.  Fuck, it was perfect, holy shit.


“Gabriel?  What the fuck are you doing here?” 


Gabriel cracked open an eye and flicked Baldur off.  “I’ll tell you after I sleep, I’m fucking knackered.” 


“You left,” Kali said, going to sit on her bed next to Gabriel’s.  “How are you back?” 


“I fucking earned it with extra credit that involved taking down a drug cartel, kidnapping a drug lord and turning him in, after starting off in nothing more than my underwear.  Can I sleep now?” Gabriel asked, opening both of his eyes to stare at them.


Kali settled back onto her bed and peeled her shoes.  At least that answer had been enough for her for the time being. 


“That is bullshit!” Baldur snarled.  “You fucked off, and now you just get to come back here and rejoin like you didn’t leave?” 


Gabriel snorted.  “You have a problem?  Go bitch to Merlin.” 


That shut both of them up, at least for now.  He had no doubt that Baldur would actually go to Merlin, even if Kali wouldn’t.  She was probably glad he was back, if only because he’d be easier than Baldur to beat in some of the tests. 


Fuck it was good to be back.










Merlin walked into the dorm and cleared his throat.  “Ready?” 


Gabriel grinned at Kali and settled back in his seat.  He felt better than he had in fucking weeks.  We was going to ace this shit! 


"Your test is to seduce the mark.  Your method will be of your own choosing, but whoever he goes home with will be the first to pass this test.  He'll be leaving the bar in thirty minutes, so I would advise you to act quickly." 


Gabriel adjusted the white collar of his shirt and the jacket he was wearing.  Not that he didn't like seducing dudes, and not that he couldn't, whenever he wanted to now, but there was a certain tall, smiling bastard he would have much rather been seducing.  He pushed his hair out of his face and walked past Kali as she headed for the bar. 


She had her own plan, he was damn sure, but he hadn't missed her smile of pleasure when she had seen him waiting for them wearing a white button up shirt and a simple jacket over it with black jeans.  It was almost identical to the outfit that Baldur was wearing, but his ass was a hell of a lot better.  Which could come in handy, considering they were supposed to seduce this dude.


Gabriel settled on the couch next to their mark, whose name was Dean, not touching him, and gave him a lazy grin.  "This seat taken?" 


"Since you are sitting there, I might say yes," the blonde said, eyeing him. 


Gabriel chuckled and raised an eyebrow.  "That's a literal response.  You mind if I join you?" 


"I would have told you if I did." 


"Unwind a little bit there, man," Gabriel said.  "You want a drink?" 


"How gauche.  Offering him a drink within five minutes of meeting him, really?  Could there be a more terrible method?"  Kali leaned low and offered her hand to the blonde man.  "Perhaps you should buy me a drink." 


Gabriel scowled and cursed Kali for a second.  Fucking bitch was brilliant.  If the dude had any inclination to the ladies, Kali probably had him, hook, line and sinker with that move, her leg and cleavage on display.  "I believe that I was here first, darlin'," he drawled, eyeing Kali. 


"Then we shall allow him to decide," she shot back, sitting on the arm of the couch.


Gabriel watched as Kali shifted, slowly exposing most of her leg in her dress.  Fucking gorgeous bitch, and she was playing their mark like a fiddle.  He hadn't looked away from her since she had showed up. 


Their mark laughed and grinned at both of them.  "How about I buy you both drinks and we can decide from there?" 


Gabriel met Kali’s eyes and agreed with a laugh.  “Why not!  I’m certainly not opposed to having the company of two hot people.” 


Kali and their mark laughed again and there was a round of champagne ordered for them.  By the time the champagne had arrived, Baldur had joined them and Gabriel wanted to groan at the picture they must have made.  They were the most unsubtle spies ever, and he had no doubt that Merlin and Sam were laughing at them from wherever they were observing.  They deserved it. 


“Good thing I ordered another round!” Their mark said with a grin, causing all of them to shake with stilted laughter.  Gabriel picked up the glass of champagne and took a sip, his nose wrinkling at the taste.  Salty.  He’d take a good beer over shit-tasting crap like this any day. 


Gabriel turned to tell their mark as much and opened his mouth to speak, but the words weren’t there.  He blinked, slowly and looked down at the champagne.  Something had been in the champagne!  He had to warn Kali and the others.  He shifted, his body feeling weighed-down and turned to tell her, only to see her slump over and onto the mark. 




The last thing he saw was the bright green eyes of the mark smirking at him.  Fuck, Sam was going to kill him. 
















Gabriel woke up swearing.  His tongue felt swollen and his head ached.  He took a second to assess the situation (both his arms and legs were tied down, he was somewhere inside or underground by the lack of fresh air and he was completely, royally fucked) before he opened his eyes. 


He looked to the side and blinked a few times to make sure that he wasn’t imagining the train tracks that he could see.  He tugged on the ropes again, sliding his wrists around, looking for the knot.  Bastards might have under-estimated him and gotten sloppy. 


“You won’t get out that way.” 


Gabriel looked up at the figure standing in front of him and scowled.  “Fuck off,” he growled, going back to feeling the ropes. 


“Tell me what you know about Kingsman,” the figure ordered. 


“No fucking idea what you’re on about,” Gabriel said, flexing his arms and testing the give of the ropes.  Pretty much nothing.  Fuck


“Hmmm,” he hummed.  “Are they worth dying for, Gabriel?  Never seeing your sister again?” 


Gabriel stiffened and looked back towards the man on the edge of the platform.  “What the fuck are you on, mate?” 


“A little incentive is required, I see,” the man said, looking down the tunnel. 


Gabriel’s heart dropped into his stomach at the sound of a train horn.  The Underground.  He was tied to the tracks of the Underground, and there was a train coming. 


The man stepped closer and held out a knife.  “Tell me what you know about Kingsman and I’ll toss you this.” 


“I don’t know what the bloody hell you are talking about, let me go!” Gabriel spat, struggling harder.  The tracks under him were starting to shake, the train was getting closer.  Out of time, out of time, fuck, he was out of time! 


The man twirled the knife between his fingers.  “Are they really worth all of this?” 


Gabriel didn’t bother answering, turning his head to look at the knot.  Fuck, he needed a way to get that knife! 


“You’re out of time, Gabriel, if you want to live, if you want to see Anna again-”


“Fuck off and give me the knife, I have no idea what you are talking about!” Gabriel snarled, the shape of the train appearing out of the darkness as it barreled towards him. 


The man knelt down at his feet and smirked and Gabriel flexed, wishing that he could break the bastard’s jaw.  Getting the knife now wouldn’t matter, he wouldn’t be able to cut himself free fast enough.


“Are they worth dying for, Gabriel?  Are they really worth your life?” 


Gabriel turned his eyes to the man standing in front of him.  Goodbye Anna.  “You fucking bet your ass they are!” He shouted over the train horn.  Twenty feet, the train horn blared again and Gabriel closed his eyes.  At least it wouldn’t fucking-


The tracks he was on dropped suddenly and Gabriel stared in shock as the train rushed over him.  After it was gone, the ropes around his wrists went slack and he was able to shrug them off easily.  The platform rose back up to the track level and Sam was where the man had been standing. 


“Bloody well done, Gabriel.”


Sam was there, smiling at him like he couldn’t be prouder.  Fucking hell.  “The mark was a Kingsman, wasn’t he?” 


Sam’s smile got wider and Gabriel stood up, jumping onto the side platform, following Sam into another doorway.  “Kali?” 


“Passed with flying colors, just like you,” Sam said. 


Gabriel couldn’t contain his excited grin.  “Baldur?” 




Gabriel bit down on his lip.  It wasn’t gentlemanly to shout with glee.  Though from the smile he could see on Sam’s face, he wasn’t doing a great job of containing himself.  “Who was the Knight we were all supposed to seduce?” 


“My brother, Dagonet,” Sam said, opening a door for Gabriel.  “Through here please.” 


“Runs in the family for you guys, eh?” Gabriel asked, grinning widely at Sam. 


“You could say that.” 


Gabriel stepped into the room with Kali and nodded back at her when she smiled at him.  He left Sam’s side and went to stand beside her a moment later.  “Well that was terrifying.” 


“Agreed,” Kali said, raising an eyebrow at him.  “Wise of them to test us with another Kingsman.” 


“Glad you made it too,” Gabriel shot back, bumping her shoulder.  She gave him a withering look, but he only grinned at her. 




Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned to face Kali.  He stuck his hand out to her and smirked.  “May the best win.  To the victor the spoils and no hard feelings.”  It was easy to see the gratefulness in Kali’s eyes and Gabriel shook her hand before turning back to Sam. 


Sam gave him a pleased smile and Gabriel straightened a little further when Merlin entered the room, looking at them both over the rim of his glasses. 


“Gabriel, Kali.  It’s time for the final exam.  Follow me,” Merlin said, turning his back and leading them out of the room. 


Gabriel caught Sam’s eyes for a second as he left and bit down on his lip.  Fuck.  Maybe after he got the damn job he would pin Sam to a wall and kiss him senseless.  Or maybe the reverse. 


Merlin dropped him off in a parlor room of sorts and Gabriel knelt down to pet Loki, rubbing behind his ears.  “Good boy.  We’re almost done.  Almost done and you’ve done damn good if I do say so myself.” 


Loki’s tail only wagged harder and Gabriel knelt down, grinning at him.  “Ready for whatever they throw at us?”  Loki barked at him and Gabriel laughed, straightening when Arthur entered the room.  He drew himself up to attention.  “Loki, sit.” 


“Well, well, looks you have trained him well,” Arthur said, sitting in one of the wingback chairs, eyeing Gabriel.  “I confess that I am surprised you made it this far, Gabriel.  But Galahad has chosen well.” 


Gabriel couldn’t help the grin that flashed over his face quickly before he cleared his throat.  “Thank you, sir.” 


“You are welcome,” Arthur said.  “What’s his name?” 


Gabriel smiled.  “Loki.” 


“Norse mythology or modern movie Loki?” 


“Norse mythology Loki.  I loved the gods who were tricksters in their own right.  Not always good, and not always evil.  Their own brand of justice somewhere between.  A lot like Kingsman, really,” Gabriel said, holding his head up under Arthur’s heavy stare. 


“Interesting,” he said, tapping on his jaw. 


Gabriel waited for any other questions to come, but none seemed to be forthcoming.  He cleared his throat.  “Sir?” 


“Yes, yes.  Now, to your final test.  It’s quite simple.”  Arthur pulled a revolver out of his jacket and offered it to Gabriel. 


Gabriel closed his hand around the handle of the gun and looked at Arthur.  His heart was starting to pound.  He pointed the gun at the ground and waited for his order.


“Shoot the dog,” Arthur said, waving to Loki. 


“Wh-what?”  Gabriel whispered, tightening his hand on the gun so it didn’t shake. 


“You heard me.  Shoot the dog.” 


Gabriel swallowed and pointed the gun at Loki.  He placed his finger on the trigger.  It was just a dog.  Just an animal.  He needed to do this, he had to do this, there was nothing that he could go back to, and if he was willing to die for them, for Kingsman, then he had to be willing to do this.  He would kill people, all across the world, he just had to do this one, last thing. 


Loki stared back at him, his mouth open slightly as he panted.  Gabriel took a deep breath and closed his eyes.  He just needed to pull the trigger.  He opened his eyes again and met Loki’s eyes.  Fuck.  Fucking dammit!  He dropped the nose of the gun to the carpet and sighed.  “No.” 


Another shot rang out in the house and Gabriel looked in the direction it had come from.  He pictured Kali’s poodle, laying on the floor in a puddle of blood and sighed.  There went his shot.  Gone.  Because he couldn’t shoot a damn dog. 


“Well.  At least the girl has balls.  Get out Gabriel, I knew you would never belong here,” Arthur said. 


Gabriel put the gun down on the side table and headed back to the dorm.  It would be better to get out of here before Sam could find him and give him the disappointed puppy dog eyes of doom.  He grabbed his duffel bag and stuffed the rest of his belongings into it before slinging it over his shoulder.  “C’mon Loki, let’s go.” 


He turned to the door and froze at the sight of Sam in the doorway.  Dammit.  Of course he couldn’t get out of here without seeing Sam again.  Gabriel met disappointed hazel eyes for a moment and then dropped them to the floor. 


“I’ll drive you home,” Sam said, turning and walking away. 


Gabriel followed Sam, because he had no idea how he was going to get home otherwise and he really didn’t feel like hitchhiking in downtown London.  It’d been months since he’d seen his father, even longer since he’d been home.  “Don’t know that I even have one ‘nymore.” 


Sam didn’t say anything in response, of course, not that he expected him to.  Gabriel climbed into Sam’s precious car and buckled himself in, glancing at Sam for a brief second when he turned the car on.  Nothing.  Nothing at all. 


The ride back towards central London was so silent it was fucking oppressive.  The only sound was Loki’s heavy breathing in the backseat.  By the time they pulled in front of Sam’s townhouse, Gabriel was ready to crawl out of his own damn skin.  Sam just needed to get the fucking ‘I’m disappointed in you’ conversation over with so he could go back to fucking up his own life. 


“Come on,” Sam said, opening the door to the house. 


Gabriel cursed under his breath, but opened his door and then Loki’s, motioning him up and into the house.  Loki bounded up the stairs like he belonged there and Gabriel cursed when he found the bastard flopped in front of the fireplace in the living room.  He followed his dog and sat down on the edge of one of the couches. 


Sam shut the door behind him and Gabriel fought the urge to groan even more loudly.  He needed Sam to just hurry up and curse his life choices and let him go back to the gutter that he crawled out of.  “Can you hurry up already?” 


Sam sat down on the couch and hummed.  “With what?” 


“I’m disappointed in you, it’s just a dog, why couldn’t you just pull the trigger, you would have had to do this a hundred times over, I thought you were better than this...pick your fucking phrase, I don’t care,” Gabriel growled.  “I couldn’t shoot the damn dog, and I failed you.” 


“I would say that you failed yourself, not me,” Sam said, standing to go and pour himself a drink. 


Gabriel groaned and rubbed his face in his hands.  “Did you shoot your damn dog?”  Maybe they hadn’t had that test back then, maybe Sam had had to do something else other than-


“Yes,” Sam said.  “Look at the fireplace.” 


Gabriel did and froze at the sight of a german shepherd sitting next to the fireplace.  Stuffed.  Sam had shot his dog and then had him stuffed.  A mix of horror, disgust and curiosity had him standing and walking over to it.  “You shot your dog and then had him stuffed?” 


Sam sighed and turned to Gabriel.  “I did.  I shot my dog.  And then for the next ten years, my best friend was the only one waiting for me when I came home from this job.” 


Gabriel blinked in surprise at Sam.  “What?” 


“It was a blank Gabriel.  There was no bullet.” 


Gabriel looked back at the dog sitting next to the fireplace and felt his stomach roll uncomfortably.  They wouldn’t have made him shoot Loki.  He’d failed for no reason, because he couldn’t…


“Even the girl, Victoria, didn’t die.  She works in our Vancouver branch.” 


Gabriel’s mouth felt dry.  Kali’s words from their first night echoed in his mind again.  It’s just tricks.  Scare tactics.  “I…”  He swallowed and walked back to the couch again.  He sat down and let his head hang.  “Fuck.” 


“I’d say that’s about the size of it.” 


Gabriel settled down on the couch and dropped his head into his hands, rubbing at his hair.  Fuck.  He’d fucked up so bad, and now there was nothing that Sam could do for him.  “What do we do?” 


“You stay here, for right now.  I have to fly out shortly on assignment,” Sam said.  He picked up a tablet and offered it to Gabriel.  “You’re going to watch the feed from my glasses.  Maybe you’ll learn something.  I’ll be back in two days, I need to find out what Metatron is planning to do in Kentucky.” 


Gabriel tightened his hands on the tablet and nodded staring down at it.  His mouth was too dry to respond.  He wanted to tell Sam to be safe, but this was Sam.  He was always smart, and he kicked truly epic amounts of ass. 


A large hand landed on his shoulder and gave a slow squeeze.  Gabriel sucked in a breath and clenched his eyes shut when the tablet in front of him started to look watery. 


“I’ll be back soon.” 


Gabriel heard the door shut behind Sam and swallowed hard around the lump in his throat.  He clenched his eyes tight before forcing them open to look down at the tablet.  He activated the feed from Sam’s glasses and then opened a few of Sam’s files on Metatron, starting to read. 


He had a few hours before Sam landed in Kentucky.  Gabriel should have spent it drinking, but instead he read every single note that Sam had on the man until his eyes were swimming. 


Gabriel dozed off, Sam’s tablet in his lap. 


The sound of shouting woke him up and he glared at the tablet before remembering what he was watching.  Gabriel sat up immediately and flicked the video to full screen.  He scowled at the sermon Sam was watching and studied the feed, zooming in to check and see if any of them had implant scars.  Nothing.  The sound of a gunshot had him jumping back to fullscreen. 


Gabriel watched Sam shoot another man, his eyes going wide.  “Sam!” he shouted.  He didn’t care if Merlin or Arthur heard him.  “Sam, what the fuck is going on?”  Sam spun around, firing shots, killing people with beautifully lethal ease. 


He flinched as he saw another woman be impaled in the background, fistfights and death reigning all around Sam as he spun, killing more people with every second.


Gabriel couldn’t help but wince as another spray of blood hit Sam’s glasses.  “Fucking hell, Sam, Sam, come on!” 


It couldn’t have lasted more than three or four minutes, but when it was over, and the pastor of the church was resting in front of Sam, a wooden spear sticking out of his head, Gabriel had to swallow hard to keep his stomach in tact.


Sam stumbled out of the church, holding his hand up against the light of the sun.  His head still felt clouded, but now it was starting to clear.  He forced down the horror trying to rise up as he realized what he had just done.  Metatron was standing in front of him and Sam squinted, bringing his image slowly into focus. 


“What did you do to me?” Sam asked, looking back at the church.  “I killed, all those people.  I had no control over what I was doing.”


Metatron laughed, patting the gun in his hand.  “It’s the microchips I’ve been distributing.  This was just the test run to see if they worked.  And they did.  They lift all of your brain’s inhibitors.  You become mindless, only sheer emotion. the Hulk.  Except without the muscles and invulnerability.” 






Gabriel lurched as Metatron raised a gun to Sam’s head.  “Sam!!”  He flipped frantically through the applications on the tablet.  There had to be something, they were Kingsmen, they had to have thought of this.  They had to. 






“You’re planning to do this to the entire world, aren’t you?” Sam asked, holding up his hands. 


“The herd needs thinning.  If I don’t do it, then we all die.  At least this way, there are no regrets.  Nineteen minutes and the population will be back down to manageable levels for all of us.  The human race will go on,” Metatron said, waving the gun. 


Sam snorted, raising an eyebrow.  “So you plan to commit mass-genocide at the drop of a hat?” 






Gabriel cursed and brought the video back up, his heart pounding.  Metatron had two men and a woman standing behind him.  He’d seen Sam fight back against worse odds, hell, this was probably a walk in the park for him.  Something he did on weekends, on his day off.  He gripped the tablet tighter, staring at it.  “C’mon Sam, please.” 






“I’m saving the human race!  They should erect statues in my honor!” Metatron said, smirking at Sam.  “And Kingsman isn’t going to stop me.” 


Sam smiled blandly.  “So I guess this is where you take me hostage, put me into an impossible to get out of cell that I break free from to save the day.” 


Metatron cocked the gun.  “I guess it is.” 


“Sounds good to me then,” Sam said.


“Too bad this isn’t that kind of movie.” 










Gabriel screamed Sam’s name as the gun went off.  Sam’s glasses went flying and so did his video feed.  They landed a few feet away, facing Sam.  Sam, who had a growing pool of blood under his head, who wasn’t moving


“No!!  Sam, get up, no, you can’t be dead, get up you fucking bastard!” 


Loki came into the room, his nails clacking along the hardwood floor.  Gabriel ignored his worried whine, staring at the video feed and the blood that was steadily creeping closer to the glasses. 


“Sam, come on, get up, I know you’re not dead, you can’t fucking be dead, get up and kick their asses, please, Sam, please!” 


The video feed cut out moments later and Gabriel dropped the tablet, heard it hit the ground with a satisfying crunch.  Fuck.  Fucking Sam.  He was dead.  Dead and never coming back.  Sam, who’d loved his dog so much he’d had him stuffed.  Sam, whose smiles were like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, Sam, who he’d wanted and who he was pretty fucking sure wanted him too was gone.  Fucking gone


Gabriel picked up the tablet from the floor and threw it at the fireplace, watching as the plastic began to melt and twist as it crumpled in on itself.  He slumped down to the floor and held onto Loki as the dog climbed into his lap.  Sam was gone.  Fucking gone.  He’d never even fucking said thank you. 


He was an ungrateful bastard, and now he’d never get a chance to prove otherwise.  He’d fucked up Kingsman, he’d fucked things up with Sam and now the world was going to go to hell tomorrow with people slaughtering each other. 


Gabriel stayed curled up on the floor until the fire had burned itself out.  The room was dark now.  He needed a drink.  He needed to get so drunk that he would see Sam’s fucking blood on the pavement every time he blinked.  He stumbled to Sam’s study.  Sam had always kept the good stuff in the cabinet in here. 


Gabriel grabbed the bottle of brandy off the desk in his office and choked down two hard gulps, letting the alcohol burn all of the way down his stomach.  Sam would yell at him for trying to chug brandy this old.  He took another gulp, the tears in his eyes burning more than the fucking booze. 


He raised the bottle again when one of the news articles caught his eye.  3-1, Chelsea wins!


I defused a bomb at the Vatican here. 


Gabriel let his eyes drift to another picture. 


We don’t do this job for the recognition.


He put the bottle down on the desk and clenched the edge with his fingertips.  “We do it because it has to be done, because we can.” 


Metatron had to be stopped.  Six billion people were going to die.  Gabriel looked at another of the front covers.  Queen Elizabeth - Dead or Alive?  He grinned and stood up straighter, wiping off his face.  He’d have to see what the covers said the day after he saved the world. 


“C’mon Loki.  We’ve got a job to do,” Gabriel said, striding out of the office.  He would put a bullet through Metatron’s head if it was the last thing that he did.  For Sam. 



aria_lerendeair: (Default)
 Title: Manners Maketh Man

Author: Aria_Lerendeair

Artist: Bright-Pyrite

Beta: Kate, you wonderful, fucking amazing darling you.  <3  

Pairing (if any): Gabriel/Sam (Sabriel)

Genre/Tropes: Spy AU

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 38,382

Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the Kingsman Movie, I draw very heavily from it in places, and though I don't own the Kingsman story, I do own some of the additional plot points I added that I wish I could have seen in the movie.  

Summary: Gabriel Novak had known, since he was twelve years old that he would never amount to anything worthwhile.  He'd be a drain on society until his dying day, just like his Dad.  However, when Sam Winchester, a Kingsman agent, waltzes into his life with his bespoke suits, spy gadgets and devastating smile, to give him the opportunity of a lifetime, Gabriel can't say no.  Oh, and they have to save the world.



“Being a spy is less about guns and gadgets and far more about blending in and thinking on your feet.  You must be memorable, yet forgotten in a moment.  You must be witty, but never the smartest man in the room,” Merlin said, tapping the collection of books in the bookcase behind him. 


“I can teach you fighting skills, I can teach you to better your weapons skills.  What I cannot teach you is the ability to think on your feet.  Now,” he smiled at each of them.  “You will have a test in four hours.  You will be presented with several scenarios.  The answers to those scenarios, are in these seven books.” 


Gabriel stared at the stack of giant books that Merlin tapped with his pen and felt dread settle into his stomach.  Shit.  There was no way that he would be able to read what he needed to in order to pass a test in only four hours. 


“I suggest you employ whatever means necessary to pass this test.”  Merlin held up a packet of papers.  “If you do not, you are going home.”


Silence reigned in the room as Merlin left.  Gabriel looked up at the clock.  11:47am.  The test would be at exactly 3:47pm.  Merlin was nothing if not meticulous. 


“I’ve got a plan,” Baldur announced, standing up.  “There’s eight of us.  We each take a book, study and then take the test together.” 


“Merlin said-“


Baldur raised an eyebrow at Kali.  “Merlin said to use whatever means necessary to past the test.  If we each take a book, and then take the test together, we’ve got a greater chance than if we each try to read the books.” 


Gabriel scowled, because that was a shit idea right there.  “And what happens if, and I do mean ‘when’ when I say if, Merlin has us all take the test separately?  We’re all fucked and we’re all gone.” 


“You don’t know that he’ll make us do that-“


“And it’s the best idea we’ve got.” 


Gabriel rolled his eyes and stood up.  Fuck this. 


“We could also take each of the books for a half hour, skim them and then trade.  That would give us enough time to go through each of them, and then we could trade off reviewing one of the others a second time,” Kali suggested, striding towards the desk. 


Gabriel stretched.  “All right, while you fucktards decide what to do, I’m going to go take a piss.  C’mon Loki.”  He didn’t bother to wait to hear if any of them responded as he strode from the room.  Any means necessary meant any fucking means necessary.  That meant cheating was absolutely on the table, and Baldur was thinking too damn small. 


Gabriel headed down to the hangar and glanced around the corner, smirking when he saw the stack of papers Merlin had waved in front of them.  He looked down at Loki.  “Stay,” he ordered, slipping towards the desk.  He pulled out his phone and snapped a few quick pictures of the test.  Merlin would notice if he took a copy, but no one would notice a few pictures. 


Gabriel turned and whistled the whole way to the bathroom, making sure that at least two of the other people from the Merlin department heard him.  No harm in having some backup to his story about going to the bathroom.  He made his way back to the room where everyone was still debating the method of studying the books fastest. 


“Glad to see someone decided to join us,” Baldur sneered.  “Always pleased to see someone taking this seriously.” 


Gabriel tightened his hand around his phone and debated just pretending that he hadn’t done this for all of them.  He should let them fucking suffer, share the questions with Kali and then just cheat off of her.  He should!  But…


‘You forgot the most important thing.  Teamwork.’


Fuck Merlin for getting in his head, the bastard.  “I am taking this seriously,” Gabriel interrupted, striding to the table, pulling out his phone.  “And that is why I went to get pictures of the fucking test we’re taking, so we know what to look for instead of trying to memorize an entire book.” 


Gabriel gave them three minutes of stunned silence before he held up his phone.  “We’ll know what to look for.  We’ll all be able to pass, and move back on to whatever the next test is.  Deal?” 


Kali grinned at him, her eyes bright and proud and Gabriel smirked back at her.  “Now.  Who has a pen so we can write this shit down?” 








Gabriel threw his pen at the test as soon as he finished filling it out.  He wasn’t the first, but he wasn’t the last either.  Kali and Baldur had both finished before him, but fuck if he cared.  He’d taken it, they’d known all the answers, and he was pretty fucking sure they’d all passed.  Things had gone according to plan. 


He stood and motioned for Loki to follow him to the other side of the room as he left the test on the desk Merlin was now sitting at.  Gabriel leaned against the wall and gave Kali a grin when she raised an eyebrow.  Well, at least they knew they’d both be moving on.  They’d fucking nailed it. 


It took another half hour for two of Baldur’s friends (Ganesh and Digby, because posh pricks couldn’t name their kids normal fucking things) to finish, and then another fifteen for the rest of them.  Gabriel let himself relax and doze as he leaned against the wall.  He snapped to attention when Merlin cleared his throat and stood up. 


“Well done.  I have to say, I’m impressed that six of you managed to pass.”


Gabriel shared a look with Kali.  Six?  How the fuck had only six of them managed to pass?  They’d had the answers.  Who the fuck had managed to screw up?  Unless…


“Gabriel, excellent job.  Pretty ballsy, snapping pictures of the test to bring back to the others.  However, despite your efforts, two of your colleagues were unable to pass.  Malcolm, Richard, pack your things and go home.” 


Gabriel bit down the angry response he wanted to have.  Fuck!  They should have all passed!  They’d found the answers, with time to spare, they’d quizzed each other!  They’d stacked the fucking deck! 


“The rest of you, go to bed, get some rest.  You have an early morning tomorrow,” Merlin said.  “You’re dismissed.” 


Gabriel turned to Baldur and Kali.  “What the fuck happened?  We all had the answers.” 


Baldur lifted his hand and looked at his finger nails.  “They didn’t.  I gave them the wrong answer to two of the questions.” 


Dread settled into his stomach.  “You did fucking…what?” 


“Any.  Means.  Necessary,” Baldur said, glaring at the two of them.  “I needed to weed out some of the competition.  You two didn’t look at the answers I gave you, so you were fine.” 


Fuck.  Fucking hell.  He was not going to deck the prick.  Not only would it get him kicked out, but it wasn’t going to earn him any bonus points with Merlin. 


“Baldur, I wouldn’t be so keen to admit that.  Merlin has said, more than once, how important teamwork is,” Kali said, heading for the door. 


Gabriel smirked when Baldur blanched and followed Kali out.  He pushed his hands through his hair.  They’d survived another day.  Loki headbutted his leg and Gabriel crouched down and rubbed behind his ears.  “What do you say, bud?  We get to stay for a little longer.” 










The one thing he had to say that was nice about training was that he got to see Sam in all sorts of situations.  He’d had to duck into the bathroom the first time he saw Sam wandering around in a red Kingsman robe, boxers and nothing else.  Gabriel hadn’t come that hard or that fast since he was fucking fifteen. 


Then he found out Sam had been hospitalized after a mission.  He’d been hit with an unknown material of some kind and was in a coma.  The second Merlin released them from their latest test (another target practice test that had gotten them down to the final five after Rufus had missed his second to last shot), Gabriel had hauled ass to the infirmary. 


The sight of Sam, on the bed, white as a sheet, hooked up to oxygen masks and various tubes made his heart lurch and he immediately sank into the chair beside Sam, staring at the tall man.  “Jesus, Sam,” he whispered. 


At one point Merlin came in, and though he could tell that Merlin was surprised, Gabriel just stared at him, until he got given a status update on Sam.  


Sam would be fine. 


And for the next six weeks, as Sam slowly grew a beard, Gabriel spent every spare moment he could in the medical area, next to Sam.  He ignored the looks from Kali and Merlin, brought his books in there to study and Loki even took to sometimes sitting on Sam’s feet on the end of the bed. 


“Gabriel,” Merlin called, opening the door.  “You need to stop sleeping here.” 


Gabriel blinked himself awake and cracked his neck, sitting up from where he absolutely had not been holding Sam’s hand and sleeping.  Because the sight of Sam’s slowly rising and falling chest was one of the most calming things he could see, especially here.  Absolutely, definitely fucking not. 


“Sorry Merlin,” Gabriel mumbled, standing and staring at him.  “Do we need to report?” 


Merlin sighed and tapped his tablet.  “Yes.  Outside, in the courtyard, in one hour.”  He turned and headed for the door.  “And Gabriel?” 


Gabriel looked at Merlin’s back and cleared his throat.  “Yes, sir?” 


“Sam would be proud of how far you have come, but don’t let yourself get sloppy because you aren’t getting proper rest.  He’ll wake up when he’s ready.” 


Gabriel swallowed hard and looked down at Sam, his hand twitching closer to Sam’s.  “Yeah.  Yeah, all right.”  He gave a determined nod.  Merlin was right.  He needed to concentrate so he could kick Baldur’s ass. 


He showered, managed to grab some quick breakfast and a change in the hideous jumpsuit before he headed outside.  Gabriel grinned widely when he saw the array of different hand guns and rifles laid out on the table.  Another fucking weaponry test.  He aced these, and the only one who consistently scored better than him was Kali.  Who had been a fucking sharpshooter and sniper in the army. 


“Today, we will be testing a combination of skills.  Your speed, accuracy and appropriate use of each weapon,” Merlin explained.  “And for an added wrinkle, you will be running through the endurance course.  You must meet a time of five minutes, or you fail.  On the table you will find the five weapons you will use.  You must carry the ammunition, each of the guns and switch between them on each part of the course.  If you fall below a ninety-five accuracy, you will fail.” 


Gabriel looked over at Kali and then at the guns on the table.  Twenty five weapons, and at a quick glance, only two that he wasn’t comfortable with on the run.  Five minutes on the endurance course was pushing it, but he’d managed four minutes and thirty seconds his last run through. 


He walked over to the table and stared at the list of weapons.  Gabriel grinned widely when he saw that he didn’t have two the guns he was worried about using.  He grabbed them and started loading them, throwing the two rifles over his shoulder and grabbing holsters to the other three guns. 


If there was one thing he knew how to do well, it was this.  He’d aced it in his training for the Marines and he was going to ace it here.  Gabriel leaned down and tucked in the laces for his boots after tightening them.  No need to have something stupid like a loose shoelace slow him down. 


“Ganesh, you’ll be going first.  Then you, Digby, then Gabriel, followed by Baldur with Kali going last,” Merlin said.  “Before you complain about order, it’s based on your current scores and training to date.  You have only yourself to blame.” 


Gabriel nearly started snickering at the look of shock on Ganesh’s face.  Oh, that had been a thing of fucking beauty.  He tucked the remaining revolver into his boot and straightened up, surveying the rest.  Kali had copied him and had set up her weapons in easy to reach places versus secure ones.  They were both going for accuracy over speed. 


He watched Ganesh head towards the course and closed his eyes.  Though he couldn’t be certain, he’d be able to tell what parts of the course Ganesh was using a rifle and what places he was using a pistol.  Maybe they’d be the same. 


An airhorn sounded and almost immediately, Gabriel heard pistol shots, and the sound of Ganesh running through the course.  So the targets were up immediately.  Ganesh was firing too fast though, he couldn’t be aiming between shots. 


Gabriel glanced over at Merlin and noticed the tight frown of his mouth.  Ganesh was not doing well. 


A few minutes later, Ganesh came around the corner, panting hard as sweat ran down his face, his hand still on his rifle. 


“Thank you Ganesh.  Digby, line up,” Merlin ordered. 


No mention of scores or performance until they were all done then.  Well, at least they’d all know if they fucked up together. 


The sharp snap of a rifle had Gabriel turning towards the course.  Even though he couldn’t see it, the difference in gun type had him cursing.  Either they had both read the obstacle differently, or it had changed for each of them.  He’d have to be prepared for both going in.  Merlin’s face was impassive, with none of the distaste that had shown with Ganesh. 


So, leaning towards the rifle a bit, but potential for a little of both.  Ganesh was a shit shot with a pistol, so maybe that was what had pissed Merlin off. 


A moment later, the airhorn sounded and Gabriel snapped to attention when Merlin looked at him.  He nodded and jogged towards the course.  He took his place at the starting line and took a slow, deep breath.  He could do this.  This was easy. 


Find the target, shoot the target.  Use the optimal gun to shoot each of the targets.  Get through the obstacle course.  Easy enough. 


He took off the second the air horn sounded, his eyes snapping open.  He reached for the rifle and froze for a second at the sight of the course.  It had been filled with dozens of civilian dummies.  Panic filled him for a second.  Where were the targets?! 


A flash of red in a window caught his eye and he smirked, ripping the rifle off of his back, aiming and shooting it a second later.  Now he knew what he was looking for. 


He fired six more shots in quick succession before hitting the rope bridge.  Gabriel valuted into the middle and used his momentum to hit the other side of the bridge in one bounce.  His knees protested the move, but fuck if he wasn’t going to use some of his gymnastics training to his advantage. 


Last time he’d pulled that move, he’d seen Baldur and Digby nearly blow out their fucking knees trying it.  Gabriel stowed the rifle and pulled out his pistol and hit the next moving targets, swinging in front of him, cursing when he missed the last one.  Ninety-five percent.  He could miss one.  Just not the next one. 


He scrambled a little as he hauled himself under the barbed wire trenches, digging his feet in and propelling himself forward.  Sometimes being small came in as an advantage.  Gabriel got out of it and grabbed the revolver from his boot, squeezing off two quick shots that probably brushed too close to the civilian targets, but didn’t hit them directly. 


He panted and made his way to the next obstacle.  Fucking hills.  He hated running over small hills.  Gabriel tucked the revolver away and grabbed his rifle.  Two more sections.  He squeezed off one shot and was glad that he’d paused to take it.  Accuracy would be important here. 


It wasted precious seconds each time he stopped, but he didn’t miss a single one.  One section left, and he’d saved the Sig for last, since that’s what he was best with.  Gabriel pulled it out and started sprinting through the last leg.  This was where he would have to make up speed.  No civilians here, just blank road and targets coming from somewhere. 


A target flew out from between the trees, hauling ass and Gabriel cursed and caught it just before it flew into the treeline.  He kept up the sprint as best he could with the gun up and hit the remaining eight targets before skidding over the finish line to the sound of the airhorn.  He dropped to the ground to catch his breath for a second, panting hard. 


Baldur and Kali still had to hit the course.  Gabriel stood and dusted off his pants, heading back towards where the others were waiting.  Gabriel grinned at them all and started disassembling the weapons, laying them out on the table. 


He listened closely to Baldur and pictured running through the course.  Baldur got through the hills faster than he did, but there was no way that he had been as accurate at the end sprint.  Too many quick and desperate shots. 


Gabriel met Kali’s eyes and nodded, clearing his throat.  “Knock ‘em dead!” he called, waving to her as she entered the course.  He had no doubt that Kali hit every single target by the time she was done.  Every shot was measured and precise, and there was no staccato of gunfire indicating a miss.  Exactly what he’d expect from a sniper. 


It did make him feel better that she at least looked winded after the course.  He grinned wide at her and waited til she joined them again before they turned to Merlin. 


“All of you, well done.  You all met the minimum 95% score.  Gabriel I was going to offer you congratulations on missing only one target, a new Kingsman record, however, Kali beat your record shortly thereafter with perfect score.  Both of you, excellent job.” 


Gabriel gave Kali a blinding grin and nearly floated back to the dorm.  Fuck, he needed to shower and take Loki on a proper walk before bed, but oh god, he didn’t want to move


“Gabriel, if you do not get up and get into the shower, I am going to shoot you,” Kali threatened.  “I can smell you from here.  Get into the shower.” 


He made a sad noise, but hoisted himself off the bed and towards the showers.  “I understand, it’s okay, you just want to ogle me in the showers.  I suppose that I can oblige.” 


Her snort of derision made him grin.  Gabriel turned one of the showers on to scalding and stepped under the water.  If he did go walk Loki, it wouldn’t be a big deal to stop by the Infirmary to say goodnight to Sam before heading back to the dorms for the night.  Merlin was right, he needed to make sure that he made Sam proud. 










He fucking hated etiquette training.  Hated it.  He got by by watching Kali and Baldur like a hawk and then imitating them with his most bullshit posh accent, but fuck he hated every second of it.  Who cared what spoon you used to eat your soup as long as you didn’t spill it all over yourself? 


Same deal with fucking conversation topics.  If he did not have one more conversation about what appropriate conversation topics with certain people were, it would be too fucking soon. 


“Gabriel,” Merlin called. 


Gabriel nearly turned and bashed his head into the suit of armor he was walking past.  No, no, no, no, they were done, he’d been dismissed, he wanted to go watch trashy tv and not fucking think for the rest of the afternoon! 


He took a deep breath and turned to Merlin, snapping to attention.  “Sir?”


Merlin smiled at him.  “Sam is awake, and asking for you to visit him.” 


Gabriel froze and then grinned, bright and wide.  “He’s awake?” 


“Aye,” Merlin said, chuckling as he watched Gabriel turn and jog towards the infirmary. 


Gabriel opened the door, his heart doing another of those really fucking annoying flutters at the sight of Sam standing in front of the mirror, wearing that red fucking bathrobe again.  At least this time he had pants and a shirt on this time. 


“You know, gentlemen knock, Gabriel,” Sam said, turning to smile at him. 


“Good thing I’m not one of those,” Gabriel said with a laugh, walking closer to Sam.  Loki gave an excited bark and tugged at his leash, going after Sam. 


Sam raised an eyebrow.  “Is Loki’s training going well?” 


“Loki,” Gabriel said.  “Heel.”  In a second, Loki was happily sitting by his feet.  He gave Sam another grin. 


“Excellent.  You’ve been doing even better than I hoped.  The final five is a true achievement Gabriel, well done,” Sam said. 


Gabriel absolutely did not blush.  He didn’t blush, even when Sam’s eyes were shining with the compliment and he looked like he needed to be ravished.  “Thanks, thanks Sam.  Merlin said that you wanted to see me?” 


“Yes, Gabriel, I-“


“Ah, Gabriel,” Merlin said, stepping into the room.  “I need to have a private conversation with Sam.  You’re dismissed.” 


Gabriel tried not to let it bother him.  Now that Sam was awake, they would have plenty of time to catch up. 


“Nonsense.  Let him stay.  Learn a thing or two about how stuff works,” Sam said, turning to face the TV. 


Merlin huffed, but tapped a few buttons on his tablet.  “As you wish.  Now, we still have no idea what you were gassed with, however, your glasses feed did capture a few additional pieces of information.” 


Gabriel watched the feed and swore.  “Sam, did you blow up some bloke’s head?  That’s a bit much, don’t you think?  I mean, did he deserve to get his head blown up?  Fucking hell!” 


“Actually, it was a chip, embedded just below the scar you see here,” Merlin said, zooming in on the image of the video before it cut off.  “Your glasses picked up the signal, however, I traced back the signal to a corporation owned by Curtis Metatron.” 


“That dude ended up with one of those fucked up last name,” Gabriel said, shaking his head.  “I thought I got the short end of the religious stick, he got fucked.”  He looked at the blank looks being given to him by Sam and Merlin and grinned.  “He goes by Metatron, right?  Well, Metatron was an angel, is, if you believe that sort of stuff.  Anyways.  Scribe of God.  His job to write down the word of God.  Fucked up dude in some books too, because he started writing his own shit and calling it the word of God.” 


Gabriel gave a sheepish shrug at the surprised looks from the other two men.  “But, regardless of what I think of the shaft he got on his name, the man is a fucking genius.” 


Sam cleared his throat.  “And why is that?” 


Gabriel blinked.  “Didn’t you see his announcement today?”  At the blank looks, he snatched the tablet from Merlin and pulled up a link off Metatron’s website.  “Here, look!” 


“We spend on average more than $2,000 a piece on internet for our cell phones, and for our computers a year.  I find this figure disgusting, when this money could be spent properly revitalizing the planet and our own economy.  So, I came up with a plan.  Starting tomorrow, every single man, woman and child is welcome to pick up one of my sim cards that are compatible with any computer and cell phone currently on the market.  Free internet, for everyone, forever.” 


Gabriel grinned widely.  “I’ve got to figure out how to get one of those.”  Merlin snatched the tablet back from him a moment later with a dark look, only to have it pulled out of his hands by Sam.  Gabriel managed to keep from laughing at the indignant look Merlin’s face, but only just. 


“Look at this,” Sam said, tapping on the video and zooming in.  “Metatron’s assistant, the one that introduced him on stage?  She has the same implant scar.” 


“Oh shit,” Gabriel whispered, staring at the video. 


Sam hummed and looked down at the tablet.  “Merlin, I think Metatron and I need to have dinner.  Preferably in the very short future.” 


Merlin took his tablet back and tapped at it.  “There’s a gala dinner next week.  I’ll get you an invitation, but be careful.  Hundreds of VIPs have gone missing in the past few months, especially after events like this.” 


“Well, I would make sure that my alias is someone worth kidnapping,” Sam said. 


Gabriel grinned widely.  It was almost like they had forgotten he was here, but it was so damn nice to hear Sam again, with his quips and sarcasm.  Fuck, he’d missed it so much while Sam was out.


He headed back to the dorms, completely unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face.  Kali gave him a knowing look, but he decided that he didn’t care as he settled into bed.  Sam was all right, they were tracking down whoever the hell had hurt Sam, and he was going to land this job and figure out some way to land Sam along with it. 










Gabriel stared at Kali as she sucked in slow, calming breaths.  He reached out and touched her knees.  “Not a fan of heights?” 


“I’ve done it before, but yeah.  Not what I would call a fan,” Kali muttered. 


“You’ll be fine,” Gabriel said, rubbing her knee.  “You’re top of the class.” 


Kali nodded and held onto the straps of her parachute. 


“Twenty seconds to the drop zone,” Merlin called over the comm.  “Your objective is to land within the target without being on the radar.  Open your chute too soon and you’re out.  Land outside the target and you’re out.  Understood?” 


Gabriel grinned widely at Kali.  Fuck, he’d always wanted to try jumping out of a plane like a hero.  This was going to be fucking fantastic.  He stood up and pushed his seat back against the wall, turning to look at Kali on his left. 


“Gabriel, I don’t know if I can do this,” Kali said, her breathing coming harder. 


Baldur rolled his eyes and pushed past her and Gabriel.  “Move to the back, because you clearly can’t, so let me show you how, yeah?” 


Gabriel scowled at the bastard, but reached out to squeeze Kali’s arm as the hatch in the back of the plane opened. 


“Go, go, go!” 


Gabriel ran for the exit, but a hand on his arm by Kali stopped him.  He growled and grabbed her shoulders.  “Kali.  Listen to me.  Stop fucking about.  You can do this.  Just follow me.”  He turned and stepped to the edge of the ramp before leaping off and heading to where the other three where already gathering into a circle. 


Gabriel waited, but didn’t see Kali following him.  She was going to miss the drop zone!  “Kali, it’s now or never, now trust me, and fucking jump.”  A moment later, a figure in black leapt out of the plane and Gabriel grinned. 


He focused his attention on catching up to the others.  A few seconds later, Kali joined them and they all cheered, doing flips in the air and spinning around each other.  Gabriel laughed and floating up closer to Kali, giving her a nudge just to make her chuckle. 


“My, my, you are all very excited.  Any idiot can read a Heads Up Display.  A Kingsman agent needs to be able to solve problems under pressure.  Such as what to do…when one of you, has no parachute.” 


Gabriel’s eyes flew wide and he looked to Kali.




“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking joking!” 


“What are we gonna do?” 


Gabriel cursed and looked at the sky.  They were an odd number, so they couldn’t pair off.  The others were frantically glancing at each other for ideas.  Fuck, he wasn’t positive it would work once you got down to two people, but it would be close enough.  “I know what to do!  Quick, form a circle!” 


“Good thinking Gabriel, but you’re running out of time.  You have thirty seconds,” Merlin said. 


Gabriel grabbed Kali’s hand and reached out for Baldur.  “Come on, come on!  We each open, one by one, then the last one grabs the one who’s fucked!” 


“Ah, good plan Gabriel, but you’re running out of time.  Hurry,” Merlin urged. 


“Me first!” Ganesh yelled, yanking on his parachute. 


Gabriel watched as it immediately deployed and shifted to close the circle.  “Okay, okay!” 


Digby immediately reached for his chord.  “Me next!” 


A few seconds later, the next chute deployed.  He looked to Baldur, about to yell that Kali was next when the jackass beat him to it. 


“I’m next, I’m next!” 


Another yank, another chute.  Gabriel ignored the fear settling into the pit of his stomach and grabbed on to Kali again.  “Kali, look at me, no matter what happens, I’m not letting go of you, got it?” 


Gabriel shifted and wrapped his legs around Kali, holding onto her tightly.  His HUD was blaring red at him.  They were below the safe deployment zone, and fucking hell, they needed to get one of their chutes deployed now!  “Kali, pull yours!”  he shouted. 


Kali fumbled, and Gabriel watched the altitude meter blare alarms at him until she pulled the chord.  He shouted as Kali’s body was suddenly jerked upward, causing him to fumble his grip.  He screamed, holding onto her tightly. 


The ground was coming up, too fucking fast, and shit, if both of them survived, he was going to kill her for waiting so fucking long to deploy! 


His legs hit grass, the impact jarring him, and Kali had landed half on top of him.  Gabriel lifted his head, just enough, to make sure that they’d landed in the fucking circle before he let his head fall back and pant.  “Fucking, hell Kali.  Let’s not do that again, yeah?” 


Kali punched him in the shoulder.  He might have deserved that, he really might have, but they’d nearly died, so he was pretty sure that he could be forgiven for it. 


Baldur landed almost three minutes later, only a few feet away from them, but still within the circle.  Digby and Ganesh didn’t show up at all.  Fuck, it was down to just the three of them. 


“Fall in,” Merlin ordered. 


Gabriel tugged off his helmet and fell into line with the others.  He was more than a little pissed at Merlin for picking him as the one that didn’t have the parachute. 


“Ganesh, you opened too soon.  You were all over the radar.  Digby, you don’t land in the K, you’re not in the K.  Both of you, pack your bags, go home,” Merlin said, marking another item on his clipboard.  “Gabriel, Kali, congratulations, opening at three hundred feet is another new record, two of which you now hold.  That hasn’t been accomplished by a Kingsman trainee before.  Well, well done.” 


Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest.  “And is there any reason that I was the gimp one?  Am I the expendable candidate?” 


Merlin frowned.  “Oh no, no, no, you have a problem, you come here and whisper it in my ear.” 


Gabriel stomped closer to Merlin and opened his mouth when Merlin reached behind him. 


“You need to take that chip off your shoulder.” 


Gabriel flailed and fell backwards as his chute suddenly deployed.  He looked backwards at it and could hear Merlin walking back towards the house.  He stared at the clouds above him and grinned.  Fucking hell. 


If Sam was proud of him for reaching the final five, he had to wonder how happy Sam would be that he reached the final three.  Holy fuck, he’d actually managed to beat out most of the candidates.  Gabriel grinned even wider and turned around to grab his parachute. 


Time to head in and see Sam! 


Fucking hell he was a teenage girl. 










Now that they had reached the final three, Merlin seemed in no hurry to knock them down to two candidates.  Gabriel sighed and slumped against the wall of the dorms, rubbing at his forehead.  Everything they had done before they were now doing again, it seemed like, only harder, faster and with harsher deadlines.  Even Kali was starting to feel the strain.  If Kingsman was trying to make them break, they were doing one hell of a job. 


“Gabriel!” Kali said, jogging up to him.  “You left before Merlin could debrief all of us,” 


Gabriel groaned.  Fuck.  That probably counted against him in the massive scores that Merlin magically kept tallied on his clipboard.  “Can I go just pass out for the next six hours?  I really fucking need to Kali.” 


“Not tonight you don’t, we’ve got another task,” Kali said, slapping a folder to Gabriel’s chest.  “And be glad I fucking grabbed this for you on my way out.” 


Gabriel watched as Kali stomped into the dorm room, her hips swinging angrily.  Fuck, and just a few months ago, he would have been after that like a mouse on fucking cheese.  Now, because of a tall bastard with dimples, he was ruined. 


He flipped open the file and stared at it.  Observational testing, again.  Go to a VIP party, find celebs and see what information you can bring back as a result.  He sighed and snapped it shut.  It sounded like the worst game in the world of who was fucking who. 


At least now he’d have a chance to wear some of his nicer stuff. 


He finished pulling on his trainers and made his way downstairs to where the limo was waiting.  Ash, one of the mechanics waved at him as he was walking by.  Gabriel checked his watch.  He still had a few minutes before Merlin had ordered them to report.  “What’s up?” 


“Hey, you heading out to that fancy party with the other two?” 


Gabriel looked down at his outfit.  His best jacket, trainers and jeans.  He’d been pretty fucking obvious about where he was going tonight.  “Yeah, why?” 


“You want anything fancier?  I got some stuff that I’m sure’ll fit-“ 


Gabriel scowled.  “I paid two hundred for these shoes, and more than that for the jacket.  My stuff is plenty fancy, thank you very fucking much,” He scowled and stomped to where the car was waiting. 


“Gabriel?” Kali asked, looking him up and down with a raised eyebrow.  He managed a quick nod at her, but Ash commenting on his outfit had rubbed him the wrong fucking way. 


“You’re wearing that out?  Honestly Gabriel, if we want to get any information at all, we can’t be seen with you,” Baldur said, adjusting his cuffs.  “You look like a gang member.” 


“Baldur, that’s enough,” Kali snarled, turning to face Gabriel with a nod.  “Let’s go.” 


Thankfully, she had enough manners to not fucking insult him.  Gabriel smiled at her as they pulled up to the club.  He tucked the pen that would allow them to communicate easily into his front pocket and made his way straight to the bar.  At least there was alcohol. 


It took less than fifteen minutes for it all to go to utter and complete shit. 


“All I’m saying Kali is that he’s not made to hack it in this world.  I mean, did you see the way he’s dressed?  He doesn’t fit in with us and he certainly isn’t Kingsman material,” Baldur said. 


“Just because he doesn’t dress like you or I doesn’t mean anything, Baldur-“


“But you can’t deny that he is noticeably struggling.  I mean, he could never fit in around a place like this without our help,” Baldur shot back. 




“You don’t disagree Kali, I can see it in your face.  You just like him, so you aren’t willing to say it.”


Gabriel scowled and stomped out of the club, depositing his drink on a nearby table.  This was what he got for thinking that he could ever hack it with these posh bastards.  Fuck them.  Fuck them both, fuck Kingsman, they could all go to fucking hell.  Well, now they had made it abundantly fucking clear that they wanted nothing to do with him and he felt the same way, so they could all fucking go screw. 


He heard Kali come across the comm line before Gabriel ripped it out of his ear and dropped it on the ground behind him.  The pen was next.  Well, if there was anyone that knew how to fuck up in style, it was him.  He smirked and made his way back towards the Kingsman compound.  He knew just what to do. 


He ignored the thought of Sam's disappointed face and what it would like coming his way again after everything he had tried to do, but fuck it, he was a fuck up and Sam should have never tried to help him.  He would never have escaped the shit heap.  It was where he belonged after all, and he knew just how to remind everyone of that. 












Sam headed down to the garage, glad that he did not need to use a cane to walk for the first time in months.  Merlin had finally decided he was done mothering him, and Dean was off in Spain, preventing a terrorist ring from hitting several prominent landmarks in Madrid.  He had the house to himself and could relax and catch up on the video of the latest recruit tests.  Gabriel had been doing well, despite all supposed evidence to the contrary, and Sam couldn't have been more pleased. 


He frowned when he realized his car wasn't waiting for him in its usual spot.  He turned to one of the engineers.  "Jo, where is my car?" 


Jo only blinked at him and looked at the empty space behind him.  "It was just there, I'd finished looking at the rocket launchers like you'd asked..."


"Well, it is clearly not here, as it should be." 


She frowned and picked up her tablet from her desk.  "None of us would have moved it, and I only just finished the work on it this morning." 


"Activate the-"


"What do you think I'm doing?" she snapped, tapping at her tablet impatiently. 


Sam waited, letting his shoulders relax.  There was no need to exacerbate the broken ribs now that he had finally been freed from medical. 




Sam snapped his attention back to Jo and swore at the image on the tablet.














Gabriel pulled up in front of Smith Street and parked, rolling down the windows so he could grin at Balthazar.  "Hey, fancy a ride?" 


He winked at the stunned looks on his face and unlocked the doors for Balthazar to climb in before he gunned it.  If you were going to fuck up, you did it in style, and nothing was more stylish than Sam's car.  Especially now that he knew it had fucking rocket launchers. 


Gabriel swerved in and out of traffic, delighting in the shouts of Balthazar as he sped down the street.  Now this was a car that the cops couldn't keep up with.  He flicked a few buttons on the dash and activated one of the smoke bombs, dropping it behind him before he turned down a side street and gunning it all over again. 


Gabriel yanked on the wheel, spinning them down another street, firing the rocket launcher into one of the buildings behind him as he gunned it harder, the engine giving a loud whine.  Balthazar screamed and Gabriel laughed again, grabbing the stick shift and drifting around the next corner.  Fuck this car was awesome


He was about to pull a sick u-turn and get back into normal traffic when the car shut down and pulled into the emergency lane.  Gabriel frowned and hit the gas pedal, but the engine stayed at a low rumble.  He tried to turn the key in the ignition, but it wouldn't move.  He cursed and stared at the ceiling.  "Ride's over Balthy.  Get out," he ordered. 


Balthazar didn't hesitate this time, and bolted.  Once he was out of the car, it started driving again, this time melding seamlessly into traffic.  Gabriel put his hands on the wheel, but it delivered a sharp shock to his hands and he raised them up and off.  "I get it, I get it, I'm done touching it." 


He settled back in the seat and scowled, closing his eyes.  Well, if he was going to be chauffeured somewhere to get yelled at, he might as well take a nap while he did.  Gabriel opened his eyes when the car pulled to a stop in front of Sam's flat.  He cursed.  Of course, of course they couldn't just take him to some random field and shoot him and leave his body in a ditch somewhere.  They had to attempt to be gentlemanly about this. 


He climbed out of the car and put his hands in his pockets, sauntering up to where Sam was standing on the stoop.  "Hey there Sammy," Gabriel drawled, watching Sam's eyebrows pinch together in frustration. 


Gabriel grinned when Sam didn't answer, only turned and led him back into the house.  Apparently there was a song and dance that had to be followed before he was thrown into a cell for the rest of his life or shot.  Not really surprising.  Sam always had been a sucker for protocol. 


He was surprised when Sam led him into an office and went to go sit behind his desk.  A moment later, Sam pulled out a bottle of brandy and placed it on the desk before pouring himself a glass.  Gabriel let Sam do whatever he needed to and looked up at the frames on the wall.  It looked like old news article stories. 


"Wouldn't have thought you a reader of that sort of bullshit," he said, glancing back to Sam. 


Sam reached behind him and tapped the closest frame without looking at it.  "I defused a bomb in the Vatican here." 


Gabriel's mouth went dry as Sam shifted to another picture and pointed. 


"Here I figured out how to disable a death ray that had been pointed at a number of major cities on the planet." 


Gabriel clenched his hands into fists and pulled them out of his pocket.  He was not going to think about it.  He would not.  "You're a badass that saves the world regularly, that's not news to me." 


"Exactly.  It's not news," Sam said, turning his eyes to Gabriel. 


Gabriel snorted.  "It should be.  You've saved the lives of thousands." 


"I don't do this job for the accolades.  Neither does Merlin, or any of the others.  This job will not give you recognition and no one will ever know what you do," Sam said. 


"Then why do it?" Gabriel asked, shrugging. 


Sam gave him a hint of a smile and Gabriel gave Sam his best poker face.  He would never see that smile again and he would deal with it. 


"Because it must be done.  And because I can," he explained, sipping his brandy slowly. 


Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the news stories.  He remembered some of these.  What had happened behind each of them that had made Sam put them up on the wall of his office? 


"I grew up where you did, Gabriel," Sam said. 


Gabriel blinked and turned back to Sam.  "What?" 


"About two blocks down from where you were living with your father, actually," he added, standing and walking to the window. 


"Oh, save the fucking 'you can change just like me' speech and tell me where I'm going to be locked up for the rest of my life," Gabriel said, glaring at Sam's back. 


"What happened, Gabriel?" 


Gabriel laughed and stepped away from where he was standing so Sam couldn't look at him.  "I realized that I'm never going to fit in, that I don't fucking want to, and y'all can keep your silver spoons shoved up your-"


"Gabriel," Sam interrupted.  "Tell me what happened." 


"I don't need to tell you what happened, I'm sure that it's all on tape for you to watch." 


"You caused more than two hundred thousand dollars in property damage and could have killed someone," Sam said, turning to stare at Gabriel's shoulders.  "You are not one for mindless violence, Gabriel, so tell me what happened." 


Gabriel shrugged.  "I failed my interview.  I go back to my shithole and you get to move on with your life happy that you don't have to deal with me on a daily basis." 


Sam frowned and leaned back against the window, staring at Gabriel.  "I won't be happy, Gabriel, but you understand-"


"I can't go back, yeah, I fucked up, yeah, I did it on purpose, you don't need to analyze my motives-"


"What if you could come back?" Sam asked.


Gabriel froze and closed his eyes.  "No thanks." 


Sam smiled and kept staring at Gabriel.  That response had been more reflex than an actual response.  "Liar." 


Gabriel snarled and stalked towards Sam, who only stared at him calmly, as though he had been expecting it.  "I am not a liar!" 


"Then prove me wrong," Sam whispered, looking down at Gabriel. 


Gabriel sucked in a few harsh breaths and glared at Sam.  He'd let Baldur and those other twats get the better of him, and he'd dealt with bastards like that his entire life.  None of them deserved to be a Kingsman.  Kali was the only one that did. 


Sam was still smiling at him, waiting for his answer.  Gabriel growled under his breath.  Damn Sam for being able to read him so fucking easily, and to play him like this.  Fucking damn him!  "Fine." 


"You'll come back?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.


"Yes," Gabriel said, glaring at him. 


"Excellent," Sam said, raising his sleeve and hitting Gabriel in the face with a burst of gas. 


Gabriel wanted to hit Sam, but his body felt heavy and it was impossible to move.  The last thought he had was that Sam's arms were warmer than he thought as they closed around him and kept him from falling to the ground.  Fucking bastard



aria_lerendeair: (Default)
 Title: Manners Maketh Man

Author: Aria_Lerendeair

Artist: Bright-Pyrite

Beta: Kate, you wonderful, fucking amazing darling you.  <3  

Pairing (if any): Gabriel/Sam (Sabriel)

Genre/Tropes: Spy AU

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 38,382

Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers for the Kingsman Movie, I draw very heavily from it in places, and though I don't own the Kingsman story, I do own some of the additional plot points I added that I wish I could have seen in the movie.  

Summary: Gabriel Novak had known, since he was twelve years old that he would never amount to anything worthwhile.  He'd be a drain on society until his dying day, just like his Dad.  However, when Sam Winchester, a Kingsman agent, waltzes into his life with his bespoke suits, spy gadgets and devastating smile, to give him the opportunity of a lifetime, Gabriel can't say no.  Oh, and they have to save the world.

“Merlin,” Sam said, ducking behind a corner as a barrage of bullets followed him.  He opened his umbrella and fired back two shotgun shells in quick succession, scattering the men following him. 


“Working on it Galahad,” Merlin’s clipped tone came through his earpiece.


Sam grunted and tried to make his way over to where Lancelot was pinned down, leaning past the doorframe to squeeze off a couple of shots every now and then.  Another spray of gunfire came his way and he ducked back behind his own doorway.  “Merlin!” 


A soft plink of something metallic hit the ground not far away and Sam stared at it, looking frantically around for another solution.  Not ten feet from Lancelot was a grenade.  “Lancelot, grenade!” 


Stunned eyes turned to him, and the last thing Sam saw before he was knocked unconscious into the doorway was Lancelot diving for the grenade on the floor. 


When he woke up in medical, a day later, sporting some new and interesting scars, he already knew what Merlin was about to tell him before he even opened his mouth.  “I’ll tell his family.” 


“It was not your fault Galahad,” Merlin said, standing up to check Galahad’s chart, reading it over.  “You should be able to visit them in a few days, you sustained minor injuries - several cracked ribs, a concussion and multiple other bruises and cuts from shrapnel.” 


Sam nodded and sighed, staring at the ceiling. 








“He was my son, what do you mean you can’t tell me anything!”


Gabriel looked up at his Dad and bit his lip before staring back down at his puzzle.  Luci was late coming home and Dad never liked it when Luci was late.  He’d get in trouble, and then Luci couldn’t play with him. 


“I’m sorry, I truly am.  But your son saved, my life, and I want to try to return that favor, should you need it.” 


“I don’t want your favors!” Chuck spat, glaring at the man in front of him in the suit.  “I want my son back, not dead and somewhere I am never going to see him again!” 


Gabriel looked up, his face falling.  They were never going to see Luci again?  He was never going to come home?  He rubbed his eyes, trying to keep from crying.  Why had Luci left?  He’d promised to come back, even to bring a present when he did. 


He blinked up at the tall man and kept looking up when he knelt down.  “Hi,” he said, biting down on his lip. 


“Hello there, Gabriel.  My name is Sam.  I want to give you something,” Sam said, handing the medal to the boy.  “Take good care of it, won’t you?” 


“Is Luci coming home?” Gabriel asked, clenching his hand down around the medal.  His Dad sobbed behind him and he clenched harder, until his hand started to hurt. 


Sam sighed and pushed his hair out of his face.  “No, he isn’t.  He was very brave, and he saved my life.”  Sam smiled at the boy for another minute before he stood up and turned to the door, closing it behind him. 


Gabriel bit down on his lip and looked down at the medal.  Luci wasn’t going to come home anymore.  The nice man had said so.  He stood up and walked over to his Dad, tugging on his pants.  “Daddy-”


“Go to your room Gabriel!”


Gabriel flinched, pulling his hand away.  “But Daddy-” 




Gabriel turned and ran for his room, climbing into his big boy bed that Luci had helped put together and grabbed his stuffed platypus, hugging it tight.  “Luci…”  He blinked hard, squeezing his toy harder.  Big boys didn’t cry and Luci had told him he was a big boy. 









Gabriel finished sipping his pint and scowled when Crowley and five of his buddies sauntered into the bar.  Bastard thought he owned the place just because Daddy’d struck it rich and was holding it over all their heads. 


Just because he had a job and sucked a little bit of cock for money in his life did not mean that he wasn't as good as these bastards who tried to hold things up and over his head.  Gabriel turned his attention back to his beer and pretended to ignore the assholes. 


"Well, well, if it isn't our favorite buddy," Crowley sneered, walking closer.  "Where are your friends, Gabriel?" He paused and then grinned.  "Oh, that's right, I forgot that you didn't have any since you're so busy on your knees." 


"Fuck off, Crowley, I don't have time for your shit," Gabriel growled, taking another sip of his beer. 


"No?  You had plenty of time for it last Tuesday-"


Gabriel stood up abruptly and glared at Crowley.  Fucking asshole.  He'd had to buy food for his sister, and he'd had to stoop low to do it and Crowley fucking knew it.  "You shut your fucking mouth about that." 


Crowley sauntered closer, raising an eyebrow.  "Or what Gabey-baby?  What are you gonna do without my money padding your wallet?  Daddy certainly can't take care of you anymore." 


He clenched his hands into fists and relaxed, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he walked closer.  "Fine, do you want another show, right here, in front of your mates?  Let them see how good you like it when you shove that tiny prick of yours into my mouth?" 


Crowley really could turn an impressive shade of red, Gabriel mused as he ducked under the fist that immediately came his way.  He was also damn insecure about his dick, along with every other fucking bastard on the planet.  "That all you got?" 


The next punch that came his way landed in his stomach and he coughed, curling up when a few more fists immediately started flying his way.  He really did need to learn to shut his trap one of these years.  Maybe not this year, but sometime in the future, he really needed to figure his shit out. 


When the blows finally stopped and Crowley’s crowd of cronies settled into one of the tables, Gabriel stood and brushed himself off, keeping the keys he'd swiped clenched tightly in his fist.  He made his way outside and stretched, grinning at Balthazar and Uriel, who were both giving him hesitant looks.  "How's it hangin' boys?" 




Gabriel forestalled the worried looks that were coming from Balthazar by holding up the keys that he'd nicked, looking at the bright yellow monstrosity of the car that was parked in front of the bar.  "What do you say we take Crowley’s precious baby for a ride, boys?" 


Balthazar’s eyes lit up and Gabriel smirked, unlocking the car and climbing in.  He gave a gleeful smirk when Balthazar and Uriel climbed in after him and he put the car into gear, peeling out.  It only took two donuts and a nice loud rev of the engine for Crowley and the rest of the asshats to come tumbling out of the bar.  Gabriel flicked them off from the window and enjoyed the stunned looks before he gunned it and took off down the street. 


Less than five minutes later, he had three cops on his tail, but he couldn't give a flying fuck about them.  In those old fucking cars, they would never be able to keep up with him.  Gabriel took a hard turn and laughed as he managed to lose two of the cars as he gunned it down another side street.  He glanced back behind him to see if he could figure out a way to make sure that he lost the last car when he realized there was a dog in front of him. 


He cursed and slammed on the breaks, yanking the wheel hard and sending Crowley’s precious baby into the nearest lamp pole.  The airbags deployed and he rocked in the seat, groaning loudly.  Fuck.  Fucking fuck, this wasn't good.  He looked at Balthazar and Uriel.  "Both of you get the fuck out of here." 


"Gabriel, we can't-"


"I meant it, get the fuck out of here, now," Gabriel snarled, leaning back against the seat, closing his eyes.  At least his father would be too drunk to get the phone call that the police would make to his house for this.  Hopefully the bastard at least remembered to feed Anna. 


Several more sirens came screaming up moments later and Gabriel closed his eyes, sighing.  Time for the usual song and dance.  At least Uriel and Balthazar had fucked off and gotten out of here in time and he didn't need to worry about them.  It wasn't their fault that he'd decided to cock his life up further and steal a car. 


The door was yanked open by an officer looking to intimidate him and Gabriel raised an eyebrow at him before he was pulled out of the car and pressed against the hood.  The heavy weight of the medal stuffed in his shirt pocket pushed against his chest and he smirked, closing his eyes.  He had his get out of jail free card, and fuck he was definitely going to make sure that he used it. 








"Joyriding, Gabriel, really?  I knew you were a fuckup, but I had no idea-"


"Oh, come off it," Gabriel said, opening one eye to look at the detective across from him.  He recognized the guy, someone who'd found him on Smith street more than once.  He wasn't the type to pick up boys there, but he drove by often enough that he was easily recognized as a cop. 


"You aren't getting out of this," he warned. 


Gabriel snorted.  "What makes you think I want to?" 


The detective raised an eyebrow.  "So you want to leave your little sister in the hands of your alcoholic father?  You surprise me, Gabriel." 


Gabriel scratched his nose with his middle finger, glaring at the bastard.  Fucking righteous prick, trying to judge him and guilt him with Anna.  He wasn't any fucking good at it.  "Haven't surprised anyone since I won a spelling bee in second grade.  Guess there's first times for everything." 


A sigh from the detective and a file folder dropped on the table.  Gabriel opened his other eye and looked at it warily.  Manila folders didn't tend to mean good things for anyone involved.  How long would he go away for after joyriding?  A month?  Dad had enough money to last him a month, and Anna had enough food to do that.  She’d be fine. 


"You're looking at eighteen months, Gabriel, and that's if a judge feels lenient.  With your prior convictions, I'm doubting that he'll feel that way." 


Gabriel gave the detective a bland look and tried not to let horror curl in his stomach.  Eighteen months?  Anna would starve.  Dad would drink himself into oblivion.  He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair.  "I want my phone call," he demanded. 


"No lawyer is going to get you out of this-"


"Phone.  Call," Gabriel repeated, staring at the detective until he crumbled and nodded, smiling a little bit more.  He'd get the fuck out of here, call Naomi to take Anna, and then he could go get good and fucking toasted.  This had better work. 


A phone was placed in front of him and Gabriel eyed it warily.  The detective, wasn't his name something weird?  Gads or something.  "Could I get some privacy, Gads?" 


"It's Gadreel, Gabriel, which I know you know." 


Gabriel laughed.  "You assume that I care enough to remember your name." 


Gadreel scowled, but nodded and shut the door behind him. 


Gabriel looked over at the mirror in the room and grinned, flipping it off.  Fuckers think that he didn't know a two-way mirror?  Dumbasses.  He picked up the phone and pulled the medal out of his pocket, running his thumb over the design. 


He'd tried googling what the symbol meant, years ago, trying to understand what the medal was for, but no matter who he asked, they didn't know what the symbol was.  Not even historians.  What the hell had his brother died for?


Gabriel flipped it over and fingered the numbers on the medal gently before picking up the phone and dialing.  He took a deep breath and brought the phone to his ear. 


"Kingsman complaints department, how can I help you?" 


He swore and resisted the urge to curse.  Of course the fucking number hadn't been anything.  "Hey, so, look, I got given this number about a twelve years ago and-"


"I'm sorry sir, I believe that you have reached the wrong branch, let me transfer-"


"Oxfords, not brogues," Gabriel blurted, the phrase that the man had told his father rolling off his tongue.  There was silence on the other end of the phone.  What the fuck did that even mean? 


The female voice piped up again.  "Your complaint has been registered.  Thank you," 


Gabriel sighed and dropped the phone to the table as a dial tone started to beep in his ear.  So much for that doing anything for him.  He should have fucking known better.  He really, really should have fucking known better. 


Maybe if he played his cards right, he could get that Gadreel dude to give him another phone call so he could call Aunt Naomi and talk to her about picking up Anna and making sure that she would be all right.  Fuck, would Anna even remember him in eighteen months? 


No one entered the room after he was done with his phone call, so they were probably leaving him to stew in his own guilt and stupidity.  Gabriel grinned and leaned back in his chair.  He might feel a little guilty about what would happen to Anna, but guilty over what had happened to Crowley’s car?  Not a chance.  The fucking bastard deserved it. 















Gabriel hadn't realized that he had dozed off until the sound of the door opening woke him up.  He focused on the doorway and grinned when Gadreel walked back in.  "Here I was thinking that you would let me rot here all day.  Good to see what I wasn't wrong." 


Gadreel sighed and opened the door.  "You're free to go, Gabriel." 


Gabriel blinked and stood up, walking to the door.  He tried to contain his grin and failed miserably.  "Awesome, thanks Gads!" 


He sauntered through the rest of the police station, rolling his eyes when more than one pair of eyes watched him go.  Were they watching because they wanted a piece, or because he'd managed to wreck a fifty thousand dollar car that he'd stolen and walked away unscathed?  Fuck it, he didn't care, it was awesome either way. 


Gabriel stuffed his hands in his pockets and started to make his way down the steps of Scotland Yard and chewed on his lip.  If the police had called his father, then it was probably a good idea that he didn't go home until he knew for certain that Chuck would be passed out and not able to bother him.  Not the easiest thing to do, but he should probably make sure that he did.  Anna was going to need food and he needed to call Naomi-


"Gabriel," a voice called. 


Gabriel turned around, a cocky remark ready for the cop that had trailed him out of the building when he froze.  Leaning against the wall was him.  The man who had given him the medal, the one who had told him that Luci was dead and never coming back.  He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow at the bastard.  "Who's asking?" 


"The man who just bailed you out of prison, naturally," Sam said, moving closer.  He held out his hand.  "Sam Winchester, it is a pleasure to meet you, Gabriel Novak." 


"Can't say the same," Gabriel said, taking the man's hand and giving two quick pumps.  He was not going to think about how big that hand had been.  He snuck a glance down at those expensive trousers of the bastard and smirked.  Bet he was well-hung.  He wouldn't mind going down on his knees for someone like him. 


Sam raised an eyebrow.  "A thank you would be appreciated for just saving you from a prison charge." 


Gabriel shrugged and stepped back, eyeing the man.  "You owed me," 


"Correction, I owed your family.  And I certainly did not expect this to be how I would repay that favor when I offered it back then," Sam said, adjusting his glasses.  "Come," he ordered.


Gabriel barked out a laughed and followed the posh bastard towards his car.  He gave a low whistle when he caught sight of it.  Looked like something straight out of a Bond film.  Impressive.  Wonder what he did that he could afford a car like this.  At least he'd be able to pay for his services if he did end up on his knees, so that was a perk. 


He slid into the front seat and waited for Sam to join him.  Almost immediately, the car was put into gear.  "We going somewhere we can be alone?" he drawled, relaxing back into the seats. 


"I am taking you home, Gabriel." 


Gabriel groaned and covered his face with his hands.  "No fucking thank you." 


Sam smiled.  "You say that as though you have a choice." 


"I do.  I could get out of this car right now," Gabriel said, reaching for the handle.


Sam locked the doors and sealed them.  "You can try to open them if you want, but you aren't going to get anywhere," he said as he pulled out into traffic. 


Gabriel fought with the door for a few more minutes before he gave up and settled back into the seat.  "Who are you?" 


"I believe that I already introduced myself." 


Gabriel scoffed and rolled his eyes.  "Quit it with the fucking act, you bastard.  Don't take me home, either." 


Sam hummed and made another turn, pausing at a light.  "What happened to you, Gabriel?" 


"Nothing," Gabriel spat, turning to look out the window. 


"One of the highest IQs in your year, a year of service in the military as a marine, you were set to move up as long as you could keep your mouth shut, and now-"


"You can get the hell off your high fucking horse.  You know nothing about me," Gabriel snarled. 


Sam looked over at him and frowned.  "You ruined your career.  Dishonorable discharge.  Returned home, have never held a job, proceed to be nothing but a drain on your father and your sister."


"Fuck off," Gabriel said, glaring out the window. 




Gabriel tightened his hand around his arm and fought down the surge of anger.  "You think it's so fucking easy.  To climb out of the shithole.  You can take your judging attitude and go fucking throw it at someone else.  I don't need it." 


Sam looked at Gabriel as he pulled up to another stop.  "Why did you leave the military?" 


"You just said it, dishonorable discharge.  I didn't make the choice," Gabriel said, closing his eyes again. 


"Something happened," Sam said. 


"It might have to do with my father fucking falling apart.  Anything he gets in welfare, he ferrets off on himself, drinking into oblivion.  My sister, who is fucking five years old, called me and begged me to come home because she was hungry," Gabriel snarled.  He didn't notice when Sam pulled into a parking lot and stared at him. 


Gabriel kept his eyes clenched shut and didn't look at the bastard that wanted to judge him, his family and his life.  "My sister was hungry, she hadn't eaten in two days.  She’d had to try to feed herself, because my father couldn't sober himself up enough to go fucking food shopping for the kid." 


Sam frowned.  "Your commanding officer-"


"Didn't give two fucking shits about my family and told me that I should have been glad I climbed out of the shithole and should forget about my family!" Gabriel shouted, yanking at the door of the car.  "Let me out!" 


"No," Sam said. 


Gabriel turned to glare at the other man.  "What the fuck do you want from me?  Let me go, let me go back to fucking up my life, and you can go back into whatever woodworks you rose up from and forget that I ever fucking existed!" 


Sam considered Gabriel for a long moment and then unlocked the car door.  "Beer tomorrow, at your pub, Gabriel, three in the afternoon, just before tea should be perfect." 


Gabriel opened the door and slid out without responding, stuffing his hands back into his pockets and hunching his shoulders as he walked away.  Fucker needed to mind his own fucking business and not come sniffing around him again anytime soon.  The last thing he needed was someone trying to get involved in his life and trying to improve the shitstain that it was. 


He pushed a hand through his hair and glanced back at where the bright silver car had been parked.  There was nothing there.  He scoffed.  Of course the bastard hadn't stuck around.  He was probably glad that he'd gotten off so damn easy and without him trying to pick his pocket. 














He called his Aunt Naomi that night and had her come over to pick up Anna the next afternoon.  His father was passed out in a drunken stupor and didn't even notice.  He ignored the looks from Aunt Naomi as he showed her out and waved goodbye to Anna, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.  "I'll see you around baby sister," he whispered.  Even though he wouldn't. 


Naomi didn't look at him as she carried Anna and her things out to her car.  Gabriel watched her go and sighed, turning back into the house.  It took only one look at the trash heap to send him walking in the other direction. 


He needed to be as far from here as he could fucking get, and he needed a fucking drink


There was the distinct possibility that Crowley and those asshats would show up and beat him senseless after that stunt with the car, but if that happened at least he wouldn't need to think about how he'd probably never see Anna again.  Gabriel pushed his fingers through his hair and ordered a beer for himself, sitting in a booth at the far end of the bar.  He took a sip and stared at the ceiling. 


Not even ten minutes later, the front door opened and the sound of a low voice echoed through the bar.  Gabriel cursed.  He'd fucking forgotten, how the fuck had he forgotten?  Sam had told him to meet him here and now it looked like he'd showed up on purpose, not because he wanted to drink his sorrows away. 


Only a minute later, Sam was sitting in front of him, holding a pint of Guinness and Gabriel scowled at him.  "What?" 


"You did the right thing, calling your Aunt," Sam commented. 


"Fuck you," Gabriel growled, taking another few gulps.  He would finish this and then get the fuck out of here.  No more thinking about Sam and his fucking suit and how he exuded competence from every pore and how he would actually enjoy getting on his knees for the twat. 


Sam chuckled and took a sip of his beer.  "I would like to apologize, Gabriel," he said. 


Gabriel warily looked up at Sam and scowled.  "What the fuck for?" 


"The assumption I made in regards to your discharge in the military.  I do not agree with the methods you used, however, upon further investigation-"


"You had me investigated?" Gabriel growled. 


Sam gave a mild smile.  "Of course I did, Gabriel."  


"Who the hell are you?"


"Someone who is interested in you, and what you have done to get where you are," Sam said simply.


Gabriel snorted and took another sip of his drink, watching as Sam did the same.  Fucking hell, the bastard was handsome, especially with that tie.  "I'm not interesting, nor do you give a shit.  What do you want?" 


Sam leaned forward and looked at Gabriel.  "You know I knew your brother." 


"Yeah, and he died because of whatever he was doing," Gabriel said.  "None of which you could tell us, right?." 


"True," Sam conceded, smiling.  "However, there is a reason for that.  I would like for you to-"


"There you are you little prick!" Crowley snarled, stalking into the bar. 


Gabriel sighed and looked up at the ceiling.  Dammit he'd wanted to finish his beer first.  He looked over at them.  Six of them.  Of course Crowley had thought to bring backup.  At least he'd get properly patched up at the hospital. 


"Hello Crowley, darling, what can I do for you?" Gabriel called, batting his eyelashes at the bastard, watching as they all stomped closer.  They weren't going to beat his ass with someone sitting across from him, not yet.  But they were going to get Sam out of here damn quick.


Crowley glowered.  "After the shit that you pulled with my car, Gabriel, you’ll be lucky if you walk out of here alive!" 


Gabriel gave him a bland look.  "Why?  No insurance?  Pity, I would have thought you were smarter than that." 


They all stepped closer and Gabriel was about to suggest that Sam get the hell out of here, since he didn't need to feel guilty about collateral damage to those posh suits of his.  "Sam-"


"Now, boys.  Whatever your beef with Gabriel is, I'm sure that it's well-founded,” Sam said, smiling at the men in front of him.  “However, we were in the middle of a conversation, and I would appreciate it if you would hold off your own discussion until I have finished this lovely pint of Guinness," he added, taking another sip. 


Crowley turned his attention to the old man and scowled.  "Get the fuck outta here Grandad.  Don't want to hurt you."


Sam turned to look at Gabriel and raised an eyebrow.  “Friends of yours?” 


“No,” Gabriel sighed and pushed a hand through his hair.  "He's right, get out of here before you get hurt."  He also didn't want an audience while he got his ass beat, other than the ones who were planning on doing the beating itself. 












Sam hummed and looked down at his beer.  "Very well," he said, taking his umbrella and standing up.  He walked towards the crowd of boys and smiled at them.  "Excuse me, pardon me, please."  They parted easily for him and he stalked towards the door as they advanced on Gabriel. 


"If you want another rent boy that's just as good at cocksucking, they're on the corner of Smith street!"


Sam tapped the point of his umbrella on the floor and sighed.  He looked at the door and walked a few steps closer to it.  The group of boys had advanced on Gabriel.  There was no fear in his eyes.  Brave.  Foolish, but brave. 


He hummed and reached up for one of the door latches.  "Manners," he said, his voice ringing across the bar, making the crowd of boys freeze.  He slid the lock into place and reached for the other.  "Maketh," he added, latching the other door.  "Man."  He slid the deadbolt home and glanced in the mirrored plaque, watching the group turn to him.  Excellent.  Now he had their attention. 


Sam waited for them to step closer, tapping his umbrella on the floor.  "Do you know what that means?" He could see Gabriel's surprised look in the mirror and smiled.  Incredulous looks from the group of boys.  Perfect.  "No?  Then let me teach you a lesson." 


He spun and hooked the handle of his umbrella around the glass mug still sitting on a nearby table and threw it at the ringleader of the group.  He was the only one carrying a gun, taking him out first would allow him to dispense the others with ease.  The mug connected, shattering and startling the other five, dropping the ringleader to the floor.


Sam turned around and gave another smile, walking towards them, planting the umbrella calmly in front of him as the remaining thugs all stared at him in shock.  "Now, boys.  Are you going to sit there and stare at me?  Or are we going to fight?" 


Sam spared only the briefest second to meet Gabriel's eyes before he leaned back from the haymaker that was swung his way.  He sighed.  Unoriginal. 


He ducked under the next punch and dodged the knife that had been aimed for his stomach.  Sam sighed as they came at him, one after another.  No coordination.  They were used to being in the commanding position together, taking turns, but it was clear that none of them had ever fought properly together.  No challenge.  He threw the last one into the bar just as the first boy, Crowley, was reaching for the gun in his waistband. 


“You fucking fuck, I’m going to make you fucking pay for that!”


Sam opened the umbrella and ducked easily behind it, waiting for him to empty the clip of the gun.  Once he heard the telltale click, he flicked the latch at the base of the umbrella and spun it.  The screen in front of him showed ‘Stun’ and he gave a small sigh, firing the rubber bullet and kicking the boy on his arse, this time for good.  He stood, folding his umbrella, stepping over one body towards the bar.  A hushed voice from the bartender had him looking over and he smiled blandly and lifted his wrist.  He checked his watch, sending a dart into the bartender’s neck, waiting for him to fall to the floor before raising an eyebrow at Gabriel.


He settled back into his seat and smiled.  “Sorry about the interruption Gabriel.” 














Gabriel stared at Sam, not even winded, his suit still immaculate and his hair still gelled and pushed back from his face.  Sam drank down the last of the Guinness as though he had all the time in the world.  Fucking prick


He swallowed and crossed his legs to make sure that no one noticed exactly how much he had enjoyed watching Crowley and his cronies get their asses kicked.  "Who are you?" 


Sam only smiled at him again and Gabriel stood up, tugging his sweater low enough that no one would see him at half-chub. 


"Come with me," Sam ordered, walking back through the mess towards the front door.  He didn't check to see if Gabriel was following him as he unlocked the door and strode out into the sunlight, but as he opened the car, Gabriel was on the other side of it, still staring at him. 


Gabriel slid into the car, his heart still hammering in his chest.  Sam looked like that had been nothing for him, hell, his bloody posh suit didn't even have a wrinkle in it.  "Where are we going?" 


There was no answer from Sam, and Gabriel watched the streets of London fly by as Sam drove them into the city.  He was surprised when they pulled into a small garage near Bond street, and Sam climbed out.  Gabriel followed him to a shop and stared at the suits in the front window.  “Kingsman?” He asked.  A tailor?  What the fuck were they doing here? 


"Gabriel, come," Sam ordered, opening the door for him. 


Gabriel turned and headed into the shop behind Sam.  What was going on?  At the very least, he owed Sam for keeping him from getting his ass kicked, so there was no harm in following him, at least for now.  "Are you going to answer any of my questions, or are you going to just keep giving those fucking know it all smiles at me?" 


There was no one in the shop, only a selection of clothing on display.  He didn't bother looking at the prices.  When a shop carried bolts of fabric, it was easy to know that one suit cost more than he could make in six months on his knees. 


Gabriel frowned when Sam led him into one of the dressing rooms.  He'd definitely blown blokes in worse locations, and at least there was some sort of hideous carpet that they were standing on.  "So what now?" 


"Gabriel, look in the mirror." 


Gabriel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.  "What exactly are you trying to get at here?  I mean, I'm all for kinky shit, but I like to know exactly what you are thinking before I start-" 


"Gabriel," Sam interrupted.  "Look in the mirror." 


Gabriel sighed and turned to glare at the mirror.  Nevermind that now, he had a perfect view of how Sam towered over him, his height obvious in the small room.  He'd have to play dirty to get out of here when he wanted to.  "Okay, I'm looking." 


"What do you see?" 


"A tall fucking bastard standing behind me trying to be intimidating," he quipped.  He caught the hint of a smile as Sam stepped past him and towards the mirror. 


"That isn't what I see."  


"Well, you're used to your height.  Trust me, you're tall," Gabriel shot, his breath catching as hazel eyes shot to him again.  Amusement glinted in them and he grinned back.  This is where he was comfortable, he could deal with this.  Might enjoy it even. 


Sam hummed and turned to face Gabriel.  "I see a young man with potential." 


Gabriel scoffed and rolled his eyes.  "You're about five years too late for this speech mate-"


"I'm offering you a chance at a job, Gabriel," Sam said.  "A chance to become a Kingsman." 


"A tailor?" Gabriel snorted.  "Mate, I've never met a tailor before, but I know that you ain't one." 


Sam smiled at him again and Gabriel couldn't help the curl of pleasure at that smile.  Sam didn't seem like someone who smiled often.  Pity, since the man's dimples were devastating when used effectively.  Who was he kidding, the guy probably had a wife and three kids stashed on the side. 


"A Kingsman agent," Sam clarified.


"You mean a spy," Gabriel said. 


"Something of the sort.  Interested?" 


Gabriel glanced to the door.  It was closed, but not locked.  He could walk out of here right now and never think about Sam again.  "I only get this offer once, right?" 


Sam inclined his head and Gabriel swore.  If he didn't, he could avoid Crowley and the other twats for a few weeks, maybe months.  He wouldn't see Anna again, Naomi would keep her far away.  Chuck, well, his father knew how to sign his own fucking welfare checks. 




Gabriel shrugged and stared at Sam, tilting his head up.  He wasn't going to take any fucking handouts, but he didn't have anything worth going back for either.  "Don't think I have anything to fucking lose," he said. 


Sam grinned at him, and fuck his dimples were unfair.  Gabriel watched as Sam turned away from him and pressed his hand to the mirror.  A red laser suddenly appeared and scanned Sam’s hand.  His breath caught as a loud click echoed in the room.  Sam stepped back beside him and the shitty carpet they were standing on suddenly started to descend.  "Holy shit," he whispered. 


"Indeed," Sam said, both of his hands on his umbrella as the floor continued to lower. 


Gabriel stared up at the dressing room as they went deeper and deeper.  He couldn't even see the details of the bloody room anymore!  Fuck.  "How deep does this fucking thing go?" 


"Deep enough, Gabriel." 


Gabriel snickered, earning him a mild glare from Sam.  Not his fault that everything Sam said could be turned into a double entendre.  Bastard with all of his 'come Gabriel's and shit. 


"Back in the late 1800s, a group of men gathered together with the intent to form a private protection service of sorts.  They called themselves the Kingsmen, modeled after Arthur's knights of the round table," Sam said, glancing back at Gabriel. 


Gabriel stared up at the tunnel that they had dropped down and slowly brought his attention back to Sam. 


"By the early 1900s, with several of their heirs dying as a result of World War One, that left a great deal of money, property and resources available with no direction.  Thus, the modern existence of Kingsmen was formed."


"Uh-huh," Gabriel said.


When they finally pulled to a stop he was surprised to see a shuttle waiting for them.  "Christ on a fucking cracker, Sam, could you get anymore Bond?" 


Sam chuckled and hit a button on the wall, opening the door to the shuttle, gesturing Gabriel in.  "Come on now, we're late."


"Late for what?" Gabriel asked, stepping into the train car after Sam.  The door slid shut behind him and he settled into a seat. 


"You'll want to buckle up," Sam suggest, pulling the seat belt over his lap. 


Gabriel scoffed and settled into the seat.  "These things never go that fast, I'm not worried." 


When the car jolted into motion, Gabriel flailed and managed to hang on to the armrest hard enough to avoid being thrown.  He pushed himself back as they reached a steady speed and glared at Sam.  "You could have warned me!" 


"I did suggest buckling up, Gabriel," Sam said, looking down at his watch.  He hummed and leaned back against the chair.  "We'll be there in a few minutes." 


"Be where?" 


Sam opened his eyes to look at him and Gabriel stiffened under the assessing gaze.  "What?" 


Sam hummed and didn't say anything more.  Gabriel glared at him and decided that he needed to rethink his whole theory on how much he wanted to be on his knees for the smarmy bastard. 


He didn't miss the hint of the smirk that Sam got when he put his seatbelt on either.  Fucking asshole


When the car finally pulled to a stop, Gabriel cursed and stretched, standing up and walking out into some sort of bunker.  He looked around. 


"Shit, we are late," Sam muttered, holding open a door for Gabriel.  "This way now, hurry." 


Gabriel rolled his eyes, debating whether it was worth it to ask Sam where the fuck they were going when he caught sight of a massive aircraft hanger.  "Holy shit," he breathed, stepping closer to the window.


"Your brother had the exact same look on his face when he first saw this facility for the first time," Sam said, stepping closer to Gabriel, reaching out to touch his shoulder. 


Gabriel definitely didn't shiver when Sam's hand wrapped around his shoulder and gave a slow squeeze.  "Jesus, is that a B-52 bomber?" He looked up at Sam and raised an eyebrow. 


"Yes.  And for that matter, so did I.  Now come, we're late." 


Gabriel trailed behind Sam as they went further into the bunker.  He looked around and couldn't help grinning.  Fuck, his life was a spy movie.  How fucking badass was this! 




Sam leaned back and smiled at Gabriel.  "My code name." 


"We were beginning to wonder if you would present a candidate at all." 


"Always a pleasure to see you, Merlin," Sam said, inclining his head.  "All right Gabriel, in you go." 


Gabriel trudged into the room and stuffed his hands into his pockets.  Fuck, look at all these posh bastards, standing about like they've got nothing better to do.


"All right everyone, fall in," Merlin ordered, stepping into the room behind Gabriel. 


Gabriel immediately settled in next to the group and faced Merlin.  He glanced at the woman beside him and then copied her pose.  She was not the kind of bird he wanted to piss off, she'd probably tie him in a knot and fucking enjoy every second of it. 


"Congratulations everyone, you are about to embark on the most dangerous job interview in the world." 


Gabriel resisted the urge to roll his eyes.  These bond-types were too dramatic for his tastes.  Ah well, at least he was going to have some fucking fun. 


"Fill out the name cards on these body bags.  Add in your next of kin.  If you tell anyone what you see, or do here, you and your next of kin will find themselves in one of these bangs," Merlin added.  "Now, settle in, and I will see you in the morning."  


Gabriel felt dread settle into the pit of his stomach.  He stared down at the body bag for a long moment.  Never see Anna again?  He swallowed hard and stared at it. 


“Here, need a pen?”


Gabriel looked up at the woman in front of him and smiled, taking it from her.  “Yeah, thanks.” 


“It’s just tricks.  Scare tactics.” 


Gabriel looked to the other woman and stood up, shaking her hand.  “Yeah?” 


She nodded.  “Military uses them all the time.  No one is actually going to die.  Kali.  Call me anything else and I will murder you while you sleep.” 


Gabriel laughed and grinned at her.  “I like you.  Kali, nice to meet you.  Name’s Gabriel.” 


“Gabey-baby!  Where did they get you from?  The dumpster out back?” a voice sneered. 


Gabriel straightened his spine and glared at the bastards walking closer.  He tilted his chin up and smirked.  He knew the type and knew how to handle them.  “None of your business where I came from.” 


“Hey, hey, just trying to make some honest conversation,” the guy said, raising his hands before holding one out.  “Baldur.” 


Gabriel shook his hand once and then turned back to Kali. 


“You sure you’re ready for this kind of a commitment, I mean, you seem like someone who prefers...ah, temporary situations.”


Gabriel scowled and swung back around towards Baldur.  “Say something like that again and I’ll put my fist through your face.” 


“Now boys,” Kali said, narrowing her eyes at Baldur.  “Let’s not give them a reason to be angry with us the first night.” 


“Aw, come on, just chitchatting with Gabey here!” Baldur said, winking at her. 


Kali glared at him.  “Fuck off, Baldur.”  She turned her attention to the other woman in the room.  “Victoria, right?” 


Victoria nodded.  “Yes.  Pleasure to meet you, Kali, Gabriel.” 


Gabriel gave her a quick smile and grinned at Kali.  “Thanks for keeping me from killing them.  Wouldn’t want to get kicked out on my first night.  Bad form and all that.” 


“You’re welcome, just don’t expect me to help you when it counts,” she said, looking at him. 


Gabriel laughed and settled into bed, closing his eyes.  “Kali, I would expect nothing else.” 


Kali gave him another nod and Gabriel relaxed, flopping back onto his bed.  He kicked off both of his shoes.  Might as well get settled in and see exactly what Sam had signed him up for. 


It was easy to ignore the rest of the insults that were tossed his way by Baldur.  Mostly because he was used to it, but more because the prick wasn’t even fucking original with his insults. 


Eventually though, Victoria pointed out that they were likely to have an early morning and that they should settle the hell down.  Gabriel hid his snicker (though not well) and relaxed back into the bed.  Wasn’t anywhere near the comfiest he’d slept in, but it was a bed and there’d been a few years where that had been a luxury. 


A snore echoed in the room across from him and he gave a low groan.  Of course Baldur or his douchebags had to snore.  Of course they did.  He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. 


Gabriel felt his bed get soaked and had a momentary flash back to sharing the bed with Anna and her wetting the bed before the water covered his thighs.  He shoved himself to his feet and watched as the water continued to rise. 


“Shower heads!” Kali shouted, diving for their communal bathroom. 


Gabriel stared as her and the rest of them all immediately dove for the showers.  “You just have to open the bloody door!”  He glared at all of them and took a deep breath as the water hit the ceiling before diving for the door. 


He yanked on it, hard on the damn door handle.  Fucking fuckers not thinking logically.  Gabriel turned around and looked at them.  They were all managing to breathe somehow with the tubes from the shower heads.  Fuck, he might as well. 


Wait.  He squinted at the window behind them and ignored the burning that was starting in his chest.  He was running out of time.  He pushed off the door and swam for the window.  He debated asking Kali for a breath of air and swam past them, gripping on to the base of the window. 


He knew a fucking two-way window when he saw one.  And that meant they were being observed and that this was a fucking test.  Gabriel focused on the window and punched it, hard. 


The glass immediately cracked, more under the pressure of the water than his fist, but fuck if he cared, his vision was starting to get a little darker than he was comfortable with and he wasn’t about to drown here.  He slammed his fist into it again.  The crack got bigger.  Once more. 


Water was starting to leak through.  Gabriel shifted himself and shoved his foot through the crack before falling through with the cascade of water.  The rest of them fell through the window shortly after as the water carried them through. 


Gabriel took a few seconds to suck in some much needed air.  Fuck.  Well that hadn’t been a scare tactic.  That’d been about as real as it could fucking get!  “Jesus,” he panted, blinking when polished shoes suddenly appeared in his line of vision. 


“Kali, Baldur, excellent work.  For those of you who are still confused, the u-bend of a toilet can offer an unlimited supply of air should you require it.  Simple physics, and worth remembering.” 


Gabriel watched as Merlin made some sort of checkmark on the clipboard he was carrying.  What, no recognition for actually getting them out of the damn room filled with water? 


“Gabriel, great job recognizing that was a two-way mirror-” 


Gabriel allowed himself to grin for a minute.  Suck on that you overly cultured dicks. 




He snapped his attention back to Merlin and froze. 


“As far as I am concerned, each and every single one of you has failed.  Completely failed.  You forgot the most important thing.  Teamwork,” Merlin explained, pointing to the broken window.


Gabriel was up on his feet instantly.  He padded to the window and stared at the body laying sprawled halfway across the room.  Victoria.  “Fuck,” he whispered. 


Kali came to stand beside him a moment later and he glanced at her.  “So much for scare tactics.” 


Gabriel was glad when Kali gripped his forearm and gave it a slow squeeze for a second.  He took a deep breath and stared at Victoria’s body.  None of them had even bothered to check that they had all made it to the showers.  He’d swum right by her.  Not once.  Twice.  Gone right past her and hadn’t even fucking noticed


“It’s all our fault, not just yours,” Kali said, her voice calm.  “She signed on, and knew the risks.  I think it’s likely she couldn’t swim.” 


“She died,” Gabriel snarled. 


“She did,” Kali agreed.  “But people die every day from their choices Gabriel.  This is no different.  Maybe we could have saved her, or maybe one of us would have drowned trying to save her.  We won’t know, and if you spend too much time regretting what happened today, you will not succeed tomorrow.” 


Gabriel exhaled hard and looked up at her, giving a firm nod.  Fuck her for being right.  Dammit.  “Yeah.  All right.” 


“All right, now that I’ve hammered home exactly how dangerous this job interview can be, does anyone want to leave?” Merlin asked, looking at each of the recruits. 


Gabriel shook his head when Merlin’s sharp eyes turned to him.  Kali was right.  He needed to focus on tomorrow and whatever the hell they were going to do to them next. 


Maybe he’d get a chance to play with some spy shit. 












Gabriel picked at his jumpsuit and scowled.  Fucking hell, did it have to be this pukish yellow color on top of being plaid?  Why did the rest of them get more earth-toned colors?  He had three jumpsuits in the same color and he wanted to fucking hurl every single time he saw them. 


“As some of you may have realized last night, there are no shortcuts to this training, and it will not happen overnight.  Becoming a Kingsman agent takes a great deal of patience, time and training.  Which is why you are going to pick a puppy.” 


Gabriel looked at the dogs in the small cages in front of him and grinned.  There were several walking around and pacing in their cages. 


“Your puppy will go everywhere with you, and you will train it, care for it, and help it grow.  You will find that when your puppy is fully trained, you will be too,” Merlin said, picking up his clipboard and gesturing to the cages.  “Now.  Choose your puppy.” 


Gabriel immediately strode for the cages.  There was a German Shepherd in one of the lower cages, and he’d barely been able to sit still.  He recognized a listless kindred spirit if there ever was one. 


He was halfway to the cages with Kali a step behind him when he looked at the cage beside the German Shepherd he’d had his eyes on.  Gabriel froze and stared at the puppy.  He was in the very back of the cage, hunched over, his ears drooping.  The other candidates were at the cages, picking dogs, debating the merits of each. 


Gabriel walked closer, and he couldn’t take his eyes away from the Corgi that was huddled in the back of his cage.  With every other puppy that was picked, his ears drooped a little more.  He counted the cages.  Nine candidates.  Twelve puppies.  There were always leftovers. 


He stopped in front of the cages, distantly registering that the rest of the candidates had picked their puppies.  The excited German Shepherd puppy was still in his cage, bouncing and yipping excitedly.  Gabriel looked at him and smiled.  The Corgi whined and curled up, hiding his face in his side. 


Gabriel looked at him.  How many times had that little guy been passed over?  How many times had he gone unwanted in favor of another breed?  He was beautiful. 


There really was no decision.  He opened the door to the cage and held out his hand.  “Hey there,” he said, his voice soft.  The Corgi didn’t look at him, so he swallowed and reached out to run his hand slowly down the soft fur on his back.  “Hey, mate, come on, I’m picking you.” 


The puppy immediately perked up and stared at him.  Gabriel couldn’t help the way his heart turned over at the hope in those brown eyes.  Fuck, he knew that look.  He’d seen it less than twenty-four hours ago in a mirror in a tailor shop.  “Come on, yeah, we’ve got to get a move on.” 


He had an armful of puppy a moment later, licking enthusiastically at him and Gabriel laughed, clipping the leash to his collar.  “All right, yeah, yeah, I’m excited too, let’s go.” 


Gabriel settled into his place beside Kali and grinned down at the puppy.  He already had a name picked out too.  Loki.  It suited the little bugger. 


“A Corgi?” Kali asked. 


Gabriel raised an eyebrow at her and glanced down at her dog.  “A poodle?” 


Kali met his gaze and smirked.  “They’re gun dogs.  One of the oldest breeds.  Easy to train.” 


Gabriel looked back down at Loki and grinned.  “A Corgi,” he agreed.  He wasn’t about to share his reasoning.  He knew what it was like to be left behind.  He wasn’t about to let that happen to Loki. 


“Excellent.  You will all begin training your puppies this afternoon, attending a basic dog behavior class.  I suggest you pay attention, as you will not have time for repeated lessons.” 


Gabriel swore and looked up at the sky.  Fuck.  Hopefully these puppies were at least house-trained. 



aria_lerendeair: (Default)
 Author: Aria_Lerendeair
Artist: Litra 
Fandom: Supernatural AU
Characters & Pairing(s): Sam Winchester/Castiel Novak
Title: Expose My Heart
Rating: Explicit
Warning(s): A really badly written fight scene, mentions of kidnapping, the sex scene has some consensual dom/sub overtones.
Summary: Sam doesn’t need a bodyguard.  He doesn’t.  No matter what Genevieve says.  So he maybe kinda sorta got kidnapped.  That was his own fault.  He’d be careful now.  At least, that’s what he thought until he got a good look at said bodyguard.  Dammit, could you say cliche...

Part Two

The rest of the week was unbelievably peaceful.  Sam had never felt this relaxed around anyone.  The majority of the time, he was in line of sight of Castiel, but the guy had mastered the art of being unobtrusive.  That, and Sam was pretty sure Cas was the fastest reader he had ever met.  Every time he was reading, there was a different book in his hands.  

When he had offered up his private library to Cas to start using instead of stacking all the books on his nightstand, his stomach had done a painful roll over at the outright joy Castiel was exuding.  Not to mention the first full smile he had ever seen from Cas.  Sam had to remind himself that he was not the hero (or heroine) in a romance novel and he needed to stop having all of these gushy feelings about someone that was living in the same house as him.  

It was simply cabin fever.  When he got back up to Vancouver and they started shooting again, he could go clubbing and start working all of this out of his system.  They were due to fly out tomorrow and it would be a relief to get out of the oppressive heat of LA.  Not to mention, Vancouver was one of his favorite cities to live in.  It beat LA and Texas, especially during the summer.

When Castiel came back into the living room, Sam grinned at the suitcase he was dragging.  "Ready to go tomorrow?"  

"Yes, of course."  

Sam yawned.  "You're gonna love Vancouver, Cas, I promise.  And I'll be able to go out at night, there won't be creepy fangirls, and I will simply not have to fucking worry about all of the bullshit that I do here in LA.  It'll be amazing."  Castiel's lack of response didn't phase him.  Dude was probably lost in thought.  It happened when he knew that Cas was relaxed and not on high alert for potential whatevers to his person.  

He was starting to get used to his shadow.  He was also (maybe) starting to get used to the fact that he had someone as hot as Castiel hanging around him all the time.  Okay, who was he kidding, he wasn't used to that at all.  He probably wasn't going to be.  He'd just have to get over it and fuck it out of his system.  Hell, he was pretty damn sure that Cas didn't even have a sex drive, unless he was getting off on all of those books he was reading.  

Sam made a mental note to look at a few books for sticky pages, then wrinkled his nose at that thought.  If Cas wanted to get off to books that was his own damn business.  But, damn, it didn't stop him wondering what Cas's chapped lips would look like wrapped around his cock, and how messed up his hair would be if it was actual bed hair...

He thought about it more than was probably healthy.  But so far, his few flirting attempts had fallen on completely deaf ears.  The more Sam thought about it, the more he decided that Castiel was just oblivious.  The guy had even admitted to being so, especially back in high school when he was regularly expected to interact with his peers.  Sam started to snicker.  That was a dangerous thought.  

"I will admit to being glad to leave Los Angeles.  This has never been my preferred city of choice, though it is the one that is easiest to find work in."  

Sam snorted.  "Lots of paranoid movie stars who think they are the fucking president and need to have a security detail follow them wherever they go."  

"If you like, I will start whispering into my wrist more frequently and refer to you as Eagle One."  

Sam burst out laughing and shared a grin with Cas.  "Okay, come on, Eagle One is too obvious."  

"Tall One?"  Castiel suggested.

Sam snickered, shaking his head.  "More appropriate, but still no."  

"I shall endeavour to come up with an appropriate moniker for you as we fly to Vancouver," Castiel said, hanging his jacket over the suitcase sitting in the hallway.  The car would be there for them at five and it would be fantastic to get a few hours of sleep.  "You will not be going for a run in the morning, correct?"  

"Not a chance.  I'll take a run when we get to Vancouver.  It'll be good to show you the city,"  Sam said, waving a hand.  Unfortunately, Atticus was staying with Dean.  He didn't want to risk traveling with him again after the fiasco of what had happened last time.  It just wasn't worth it: he loved his dog too damn much and the last thing he needed was him getting sick because of airline mismanagement.  


It was good to be back in Vancouver.  Filming had started, everyone liked Cas, and they had only given him a little bit of ribbing about having a bodyguard.  Mostly because he forgot that Cas was even there.  His new nickname had stuck, too.

The nickname “Angel” --shortened from Angel-On-His-Shoulder-- had become even more hilarious when Castiel had informed them that he was named after an angel.  Now it was never going to go away.  Castiel had simply shrugged as though it did not bother him, but Sam knew that he was pleased at having received a nickname.  Nicknames meant acceptance and if Sam had to weather a few “Guardian Angel” jokes, it was worth it to have his ass watched when he wasn’t looking.  

Thankfully, it only took a few days to get his rhythm, he didn't have to be on set until mid-afternoon (thank you, nightshoots!), and, dammit, he was going to go get laid.  Multiple times.  Hell yes.  If only Cas didn't have to tag along.  Maybe Sam could convince him to stay home and have a night off.  That'd be the ideal scenario.  

"Hey, Cas, you know that you really don't have to...woah."  Sam swallowed hard and had to think seriously unsexy thoughts Oh God, Bobby in a bikini, Bobby in a bikini... at the sight of Castiel in his doorway.  "Uh.  Well, damn.  Now I feel underdressed."  

"You look quite excellent," Castiel assured Sam.  "I was unsure of what clothing would be appropriate in this scenario and thought this may fit the criteria."  

Oh God, he was so fucking screwed.  He was going to have to find a Cas-lookalike that he could fuck the ever-living shit out of or he wasn't going to make it through the night.  Instead of his usual ill-fitting slacks and button up shirt, Cas was dressed in clothing that had to have been tailored to fit him.  

Black jeans that he would bet his next ten paychecks made that ass look like fucking perfection, a dark green button up shirt that was tucked in, with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and then, then, as if that outfit wasn't jaw-droppingly hot enough!  Cas was wearing a waistcoat.  A black waistcoat with a bright blue back that Sam could already tell matched his eyes.  

Jesus.  Fucking.  Christ.  He was half hard in his jeans just staring.  He swallowed hard.  "Uh.  Yeah.  Yeah.  Heh.  The bouncer might think I'm the one escorting you, though."  

Castiel frowned and looked down at his clothing.  "I can change if you would prefer--"

"NO!"  Sam blinked at the volume of his voice and flushed.  "Uh, yeah, no, I'm fine.  Totally fine, Cas.  Believe me, I'm an actor, I'm not that insecure about my looks,"  Sam said, relaxing a fraction when Cas smiled at him.  

Oh fuck, he didn't want to leave the house. He wanted to pin Cas to the wall and kiss him until neither of them could breathe and peel each piece of clothing off of him.  "Let's get going then."  


He was definitely going to the club with the intent of getting laid.  He'd made that very clear to Cas and they had set up some ground rules.  Castiel was going to keep his distance unless he saw something that would cause direct harm to Sam.  If Sam was out of his sight for more than an hour, contact would need to be established (Sam had fought for that to be only a text and had won, after an argument with Cas) or else Cas would come looking for him.  

They weren't his favorite set of rules to date, that was for certain.  But, he could ignore them in favor of being able to oogle Cas (and, oh, he would oogle. He and every single other person in the club who wasn't fucking blind would ogle) and get laid.  Getting laid was definitely the prime objective.  

Primary, secondary, and tertiary objectives, really.  Sam settled back in the car and waited  to arrive.  Sometimes it paid to be a sort-of famous actor.  Meant he could get into places like Hellfire without any issue whatsoever.  And, as a bonus, have a plus one.  

A belated thought occurred to him and he looked over at Cas.  "Hey, Cas?"  

"Yes, Sam?"  

"You know we're going to a gay club tonight, right?"  

Castiel turned to look at Sam.  "Yes."  

"Cool, and you know you're going to be hit on, right?"  Sam asked, relaxing a little.  

"I sincerely doubt that anyone shall look twice at me when they see you."  

Sam laughed.  "Cas, you don't need to flatter me, honestly."

Castiel looked at Sam.  "I am not.  You are gorgeous and you are very much aware of your attractiveness."

Sam climbed out of the car when they arrived and made his way over to the door.  He watched Cas follow him and shook his head.  Cas looked… hungry.  Anyone looking to get laid would make a beeline for the both of them.  Hell, with that look, they’d probably go to Cas before him!

Sam dusted a little bit of dust off his black jeans and grinned.  

The all black might be a bit cliche for the club scene, but it would serve his purpose for this evening.  Good enough.  

Castiel followed him inside, but the second they pressed against the crush of people, Sam lost sight of him.  They were taller than most people in the crowd (although, he was taller than pretty much everyone), so it shouldn't have been so easy for Cas to blend in like that.  Nonetheless, he did.  

Sam shrugged and made his way over to the bar.  First order of the night: drinks.  At least a couple of them.  He wasn't about to go home stumbling around, but damn, he needed a few.  It'd help relax him once people started hitting on him left, right, and center.   

He ordered scotch and downed the first almost immediately, then took a sip of the second, settling into his chair as he turned to survey the crowd.  Hmmm.  He couldn't decide what he wanted tonight: fuck or be fucked.  Both certainly sounded appetizing.  

Maybe he should go for someone to fuck him.  If he ended up fucking anyone, he'd end up with a Cas look-alike and he just did not need to answer those questions later. That'd make things awkward for everyone and was something that he definitely wanted to avoid.

Oh, dammit, and now he was thinking about fucking Cas again.  Christ, he needed to stop that.  Cas was off-menu and would stay off-menu until further notice.  He needed to get used to that already, it wasn't going to change.  

"Well, well, well.  You are the most gorgeous and the most bored looking person here.  Clearly, you need someone to entertain you."  He held out his hand and smirked.  “Trevor.”

Sam focused on the tall, sandy-haired man in front of him and took the offered hand.  “Sam.”  He pulled his hand back a second later and raised his eyebrow.  "And if I said I didn't need entertainment, Trevor?"  

"I'd ask to buy you a drink and see if there was something we could find to talk about,”  the sleezy guy offered.  

Sam rolled his eyes; right.  But no one else had come close, and maybe this guy was better than his pickup lines.

"Sure, I'll take another drink."  

Three drinks later, Sam knew he was a bit of a mess.  His promise to himself not to end up smashed had been thrown out the window when Trevor had challenged him to see how fast he could down three shots and then they had had a few more drinks.  

Still giggling at Trevor's last comment about the alcohol, Sam wondered where Cas was.  Maybe he was off getting some tail, he could certainly use it with that stick that was up his ass.  The thought made Sam start laughing again.  

"What's so funny, beautiful?"  

Sam snorted at that and went to go take another sip of his drink, only to find that it was empty.  He frowned at the glass that had been full only a second ago...

"Here, I've got another one all ready for you."  Trevor said, sliding the glass towards Sam.  

Sam gave him a blinding grin.  He really wasn't all that funny, but at least Trevor bought him drinks and seemed to like him.


He wrapped a hand around the glass and started to lift it to his lips when his arm suddenly stopped mid-motion.  He frowned at it and realized the reason was a hand wrapped around his wrist.


"Don't drink that, Sam."  

Sam shivered.  That voice was growly and sexy and it was right by his ear.  Mmm.  He could do with hearing that a lot more.  He glanced over his shoulder and gave a wide grin.

"Cas!  I thought you were off getting laid!"  He giggled when Cas gave him a frowny-face.  Cas had the best frowny face.  

"Hey man, what the hell is your problem!?" Trevor said.  "We weren't doing anything he didn't want!"  

Castiel took the glass away from Sam and stuck a pinky into it, pulling it out to lick at the pad of his finger.  His eyes narrowed.  "Salty."

The man across from Sam paled.

"I thought so," Castiel confirmed.

"Cas?  What’s wrong with...with the drink?"  Sam asked, swaying a little bit in his seat.  

"Your drink,"  Castiel took it and threw it into the face of the man beside Sam.  "was spiked.  With a date rape drug. Rohypnol, if I am not mistaken."  

Sam blinked and then turned to glare at Trevor.  "You’re a dick and you aren’t funny!"  He said, trying to stand up, swaying a little, buming into Cas.  Cas was good, though, and he steadied him.  "I can't believe I wanted to fuck you!"  

"That's enough, Sam,"  Castiel said, his hand on Sam’s shoulder as he glared at the other man.  The bar was silent around them.

"Bartender, have him arrested or I will make sure he does not walk out of here."  When he received a nod, he turned his attention to Sam.  

"Hey man, you're not about to get away with having me arrested! This is bullshit!"  Trevor protested.

Castiel ignored him, focusing on Sam, trying to coax him back into the chair and get him to sit down so he could perform a proper diagnostic and see if his first few drinks had also been spiked.  

"Hey, listen to me, you fucker!"  

Castiel grabbed the hand before it touched his shoulder and spun, twisting the jackass’s entire arm behind him.  He shoved the man against the bar.  "You have now attempted assault.  I will be pressing charges, as will my client, you can rest assured."  

"Cas is such a badass!"  Sam said, grinning widely as he swayed in his chair.  

Castiel paused to smile for a moment and glanced up at Sam.  When the man started to struggle, he put more pressure on his shoulder.  "I would suggest you cease moving, or you may risk dislocating your shoulder.  I would not recommend it, they can be painful."  

A moment later, two bouncers were there, and Cas released his hold on the man, turning him over to them with a nod.  He looked back over at Sam and his drunken swaying in the chair.  He sighed a little bit.

"Sam, I thought you were not planning to get drunk."  

"He kept buyin' me drinks!  You don’t turn down free drinks!"  Sam said, holding up a finger.  "Rule number one!"  

Castiel fought the urge to smile and pulled out his phone, calling the car around.  "That may be the rule, but when you are frustrated tomorrow, I am not going to take the blame for it."  

Sam gave a bleary smile and stumbled to his feet, glad when Cas put a steadying arm around his waist.  He wrapped an arm around Cas's shoulders and stumbled.

"S'ok~  And my hand works just fine.  Been even getting a workout lately."  

Castiel chuckled and led the way to the entrance, helping Sam into the car before going to go climb into the opposite side.  He put the divider up so Sam wouldn't distract the driver.  "I know that, for some reason, you have not felt comfortable going out with me in attendance--"

"That's not why!"  Sam said, pouting.  "It's cause you're off limits and hot and and and--"  He flailed a little bit and waved at Cas.  "Just look at you!"  

Castiel blinked and looked down at himself.  There were a few droplets of Sam's drink on his chest as well as glitter in a few places from people he had brushed against to get to Sam in a hurry, but there was nothing unique about his appearance as compared to earlier.  "Is there something wrong with my appearance?"  

Sam look down and then frowned, squinting his eyes at Castiel.  Bastard was playin' hard to get.  "You are hot.  You’re like, hottie hot.  It is not fair, and that fuckin' waistcoat matches your eyes!  Do you know how unfair that is?  I want to take you and fuck you through the wall!"  

Castiel's eyes went wide and he stared at Sam as he continued to pout.  "I--"

"And the worst part?  The worst part is that I'm not allowed to.  I wanna, wanna, wanna, fuck you because my hand is sore, but I'm not allowed.  Gen said so,"  Sam ranted, throwing up his hands before sinking back to the seat.  "I was going to go fuck this outta my system, but then you had to, to, to be a white… rescuer!"  

Castiel blinked.  "White… knight?"  

"Yeah, that!"  

Castiel smiled at Sam.  He did have his moments of being adorable, even when he was pouting like that, that was for certain.  "Sam, you know that--"

"I know, I know, I know.  I promised Gen.  No hittin' on you, no walking around obviously shirtless, no sexy times, no nothing.  Except flirting, I'm allowed to flirt."  Sam grinned.  "You're dumb as a box of rocks with flirting, Cas."  

He had to agree with the assessment.  Flirting had never been something he was interested in receiving and if Sam had been flirting with him, he certainly would not have noticed it.  Sam could have anyone, and Castiel believed he was hardly worth the effort or the time.  

"And then!  Then!  As if you bein' a sexy bodyguard isn't bad enough!"  

Castiel's eyes snapped back to Sam and widened when he realized Sam had leaned in close and their lips were only inches apart. He could smell the alcohol on Sam's breath and his lips were pink and glistening.  He sucked in a slow breath of air. "Sam...?"

"Then you had to go and dress like this!"  Sam accused, narrowing his eyes.  "You… ridiculously hot!"  He dropped his eyes to Cas's lips and reached up to press a finger to them.  "Your lips and eyes and… you!  You're ridiculous."  

Castiel dropped his eyes to Sam's finger and couldn't help but let them trail all of the way down Sam's body.  There was a… substantial physical reaction that told him Sam was clearly interested.  He swallowed and pulled his head far enough back so Sam's hand fell between them.  "Sam..."

"See!  See!  It's bad enough that I can' have you, but, least you aren't screwin' everyone else.  You're just...jus’ not interested.  That happens-I'm glad.  I'd only want you screwin’ me if you were."  Sam sank back into his seat and huffed.  

Castiel stared at Sam's profile, endlessly thankful that he had put the divider up between them and the driver. He couldn't help continuing to shake his head.  Where on Earth had Sam gotten the idea that he wasn't interested in sexual intercourse?  Granted, he did not have time for it with his current occupation, but that had always suited his levels of need.  His hand had always been sufficient, and did not require the effort a relationship or scheduling liaisons would be.  "I believe we are almost home, Sam."  

Sam looked back over at Cas and slumped in his seat, turning so he could rest his head on Cas' shoulder.  "Thank you for comin' to save me, Cas."  

Castiel smiled and shifted so he could press his cheek to the top of Sam's head.  "You do not need to thank me, Sam.  I am glad that I was there to help."  

Sam gave a slow yawn and nodded, wrapping an arm around Cas, holding him closer.  "I think I'm in shock.  Spend the night with me."  

Castiel chuckled and reached up to comb his fingers through Sam's hair.  "I am hardly convinced.  You seem to be just fine, as per usual, Sam,"  he teased.  

Sam huffed and held onto Cas tighter.  "Then 'm just not gonna let go and then you'll have to spend the night with me, you won't have any sort of choice in the matter."  

Castiel sighed and looked to the ceiling.  Once he got Sam inside and into bed, things would be much easier and he wouldn't need to continue arguing with Sam.  "We are home,"  he announced when the car pulled to a stop outside the house.  

"Home, sweet home!"  Sam said, flailing as he sat up and off of Cas and pushed his way out of the door.  

Castiel stopped and paid the driver, thanking him, before he followed Sam inside the house.  He followed Sam into the house, the door still wide open from Sam’s passing. Heading towards the kitchen, he kept an ear open to figure out where Sam had stumbled off to.  

When he didn't hear anything, he paused in the doorway of the kitchen and looked around.  "Sam?  Where are you?"  

"Surprise sneak attack!"  Sam shouted, wrapping his arms around Cas, spinning him around and into the kitchen before pressing him into the counter.  

Castiel stumbled before righting himself under Sam's weight, grunting as he was pressed into the counter with a whole armful of drunk actor pressed against him.  "Sam, what are you doing?"  He fought down a shiver when Sam nuzzled at his neck.  His skin was rough: he could feel the stubble scrape against his neck.  

"You smell nice, Cas.  Gorgeous bastard,"  Sam mumbled, closing his eyes and kissing at the soft skin he could feel.  Cas wasn't as tan as he was, but he wasn't all pale skin either.  He sat out at the pool and sometimes went running without a shirt on.  It was really hard to run half-hard.  He'd figured that out a long time ago.  Wasn't fair.  

"Sam, you are intoxicated.  This is not a good idea,"  Castiel said, pushing gently at Sam.  "We need to get some water in you and then get you into bed, all right?"  

Sam grinned and moved off of Cas a little. He was heavy, but he couldn't squish Cas, that would be just mean.  He needed to make sure he didn't do any squishing.

"Bed sounds great.  I'd like to see you spread out on my sheets!"  

Castiel blinked and stared up at Sam, his mouth dry as Sam leaned in close again, their lips barely an inch apart.  "Sam, we are not going to share a bed."  

"Awwww, but the guest room bed isn't big enough for me.  My feet hang off!"  Sam protested, leaning in to kiss at Cas's neck again, inhaling the scent that seemed to cling to his skin.  Soap or somethin' or just Cas.  Was good.  

"Sam, you are going to regret this in the morning,"  Castiel said, pushing at Sam again.  "Come on.  I'll help you get into bed."  

Sam heaved a sigh and stumbled away from Cas.  "See!  Not interested.  S'ok, I knew it.  Fuck, you're hot,"  he mumbled, turning towards the kitchen doorway and stumbling again.  

Castiel watched him go and waited until he had left the room to press a hand to the erection straining against his jeans.  He listened to Sam stumble his way towards his bedroom before the sound of him collapsing on the bed a moment later was heard.  

He forced himself to take a few deep breaths and then turned to get a glass of water and a few pain killers.  Sam would need them in the morning.  Walking down the hall, he peeked into Sam's room and chuckled at the sight of him passed out and snoring on the bed.  Sam hadn't even managed to get his shoes off.  

Castiel put the water and the pills on the nightstand before removing Sam's shoes and socks.  He would likely be very uncomfortable in jeans, but he would not be able to move Sam's dead weight without waking him.  And since he was asleep--

"Mmm, Cas."  

His eyes snapped up to Sam's face, surprised.  Sam had seemed as though he were sleeping deeply, his face half-mashed into the pillow.  When hazel eyes didn't open to look at him, Castiel tilted his head and studied Sam who lay sprawled on his front, his arms under his head, and head turned to the side. Sam was not intoxicated to the point of sickness, so why was he calling for him?


Castiel watched Sam move restlessly on the bed.  Sam made another small noise in his throat before shifting again.  He sighed and was about to approach the bed when Sam moved again, but this time in a much more distinct manner.  His eyes went wide.  

"Cas… mmm… s'good..."  

He sucked in a breath and watched as Sam's hips rolled in a steady motion against the bed, grinding down against the sheets.  He stared, his erection roaring back to life in a moment.  His brain was unable to process the sight in front of him entirely.  Sam was, Sam was...

"Cas, ah, yes… Cas..."  

Sam's voice was a moan and his hips rocked steadily against the bed now.  Castiel pressed a hand to the front of his jeans.  He should leave.  He needed to leave and they, no, he, he would pretend that he had never seen what he had.  It would be that simple.  


Sam's thrusts against the bed grew more vigorous, his body clearly not getting the friction it wanted or needed.  Castiel was so hard, his jeans had become extraordinarily uncomfortable.  He sucked in a breath and continued to stare as Sam shifted again, this time his arm moving, moving to--

This time, it was impossible to ignore the pleased sigh of his name from Sam.  Sam rocked into his hand, the friction and pressure what he had been looking for as he started to rut, moving faster and harder, his breath coming in desperate little pants.  

Castiel tightened both of his hands into fists, unable to look away from the image that Sam presented on the bed, ass and thighs flexing with every movement.  He was beautiful.  

"Cassssssss."  Sam's breath left him in a hiss, his whole body bucking and going tense before collapsing down onto the bed.  

Castiel froze and watched as Sam sank back into the sheets.  His erection gave a painful throb and he pressed a hand to it, waiting until Sam's breath had evened out before leaving the room.  

Castiel walked down the hallway, sucking in a slow breath as the motion gave him additional friction that he did not need in his jeans.  He opened the door to his bedroom and shut it behind him, his fingers flying to his zipper, hurriedly shoving his jeans and underwear down to mid-thigh before wrapping a hand around his erection.  

He moaned, his head dropping back against the door as he stroked himself.  Sam was deaf to the world, passed out asleep.  There was no need to muffle himself.  Castiel closed his eyes and the image of Sam--thrusting against his hand, soft little moans and sighs escaping, appeared.  He was never going to be able to forget what Sam had looked like.  

Now if only Sam could have been under him, making those same noises, his lips parted with each sigh, hazel eyes staring up at him as he begged for more...

Castiel grunted as he came, exploding all over his shirt, before slumping back against the door. He looked down at his hand and wiped the excess off on his jeans and covered his face with his other hand.  He would need to resign in the morning.  This was completely unacceptable.   

He moved to the dresser and pulled out his suitcase, put it on the bed and started to load clothes into it.  Castiel began composing the letter to Genevieve in his mind.  She would be irritated, he was certain, but after he explained that it was nothing Sam had done--

Sam, grinding down against the bed, his lips bitten red, his hazel eyes swallowed by the pupil as he moaned...

Castiel shook his head.  His fault, it was all of his fault.  He took another breath; he should not have watched.  He should have left Sam in the room to do whatever he wanted to.  

He'd seen Sam shirtless, he could only imagine what it would be like to see him naked, miles of golden skin revealed for him to taste and touch and suck.  Sam would be a writhing mess beneath him, crying out and begging for more...

"Enough!"  Castiel snarled, shaking his head to dispel the images.  Sam was his client.  Someone that he needed to keep safe and protect.  He could not afford to be lusting after him like some teenager!  He was as bad as the women who had tried to kidnap and attack Sam!  

aria_lerendeair: (Default)
Author: Aria_Lerendeair
Artist: Litra 
Fandom: Supernatural AU
Characters & Pairing(s): Sam Winchester/Castiel Novak
Title: Expose My Heart
Rating: Explicit
Warning(s): A really badly written fight scene, mentions of kidnapping, the sex scene has some consensual dom/sub overtones.
Summary: Sam doesn’t need a bodyguard.  He doesn’t.  No matter what Genevieve says.  So he maybe kinda sorta got kidnapped.  That was his own fault.  He’d be careful now.  At least, that’s what he thought until he got a good look at said bodyguard.  Dammit, could you say cliche...

Part One

Sam slumped into the chair across from his agent and covered his eyes with his hand.  "I don't need a bodyguard!"  

Genevieve eyed him and raised an eyebrow.  "Would you rather walk through crowds molested by fangirls?  Because I can have that be the case instead and not hire you a bodyguard."  

Sam sighed.  "They are going to follow me everywhere and drive me batshit insane.  I don't want to be followed everywhere by a ghost, Gen.  Can't he just...follow me to public events or something?"  

"Next time, one of them won't wait for a public event to yank you into a bathroom.  And next time, someone might not hear the racket you are making through a gag,"  Genevieve said, eyeing him.  She watched Sam squirm for another long moment and then sighed.  

"All right, all right.  One bodyguard.  I'm not about to turn into some prissy fucking celebrity who has a team of people following him around.  I’m over six feet tall, for christs sake!  People shouldn't be trying to kidnap me!"  Sam complained, flopping onto the couch.  

Genevieve huffed and shook her head at Sam's antics.  "Here's the deal:  you will try out this guy, Castiel.  He comes very highly recommended and specializes in low-profile duties.  You shouldn't even notice he is there unless you want to."  

Sam scowled at her, glancing at the folder she was holding in her hands.  "You went ahead and hired someone without telling me?"  Genevieve raised an eyebrow.  "All right, all right, I deserved that one, but sheesh.  Next time, be a little more gentle, won't you?"  Sam asked, taking the folder from her.  He looked down at the guy on the page and raised an eyebrow.  He looked hot.  "So, how off-limits is-"

"No."  Genevieve said.  


"No.  No, no, no, and more no."  She said.  "Absolutely not.  You are not allowed to sleep with him, hit on him, flirt with him, or proposition him."  

Sam huffed and leaned back against the couch.  "Well, at least you hired me someone hot."  It was a small consolation, but he was going to take it if it meant he went mostly un-groped at future events.  No doubt some of his coworkers would sneak in a grope or seven, but he didn't give two shits about them.  Just, no more creepy, stalker mid-thirties women.  Or men.  Please.  

"Sam.  Promise me,"  she said.  

Sam huffed again and looked at her.  "All right, all right, I promise.  I solemnly swear that I will not hit on, proposition, or sleep with the new bodyguard."  

"Or flirt with him!"  Genevieve added.  

"Aw, come on!  I flirt with everyone, Gen!"  

Genevieve stared at Sam for a long moment and then deflated.  "All right.  Flirting.  But keep it to a minimum.  I really don't want to have to go looking for another one of these."  

Sam stood up and saluted her.  "All right then, boss-lady, is that it for now?  I don't have to do anything until shooting next week, right?  I can just chill at home and do whatever I want?"  

She smiled.  "Yes, Sam, you have the week off to get over your 'trauma'."  

Sam snorted.  "Send this bodyguard over whenever he shows up so I can at least meet him and spend five minutes with him."  


"Don't worry, I'll keep my clothes on and my hands off!"  Sam raised his hands and left her office, grumbling under his breath.  

Genevieve huffed and watched him go.  Sam Winchester might be one of the biggest spoiled brats she had ever met in the acting world.  But he was crazy talented, built like a fucking superhero, and didn't tend to have outrageous demands whenever he needed to travel for work.  She had definitely dealt with worse celebrities.  Now he just needed to find someone who could keep his ass permanently in line.  

She looked down at the file on her desk and read through it again.  If Castiel Novak proved to be immune to Sam's smile, dimples, and shirtless chest, he might be perfect for the job.  Genevieve slumped back into her chair and picked up her phone.  Why were the hottest ones always gay?  


Lounging around the house was exactly what he had needed after the morning with Gen.  He loved her, dearly and like a sister, but the idea that he needed a bodyguard was simply ridiculous.  Especially growing up with Dean.  He’d known how to fight before he could do anything else.  He rolled his shoulders and grabbed a book off his library shelf, walking towards the pool in the back.  Not to mention he had to play Stupid Hollywood around her.  Never his favorite thing to do.  

Sam pushed his fingers through his hair and slumped down into one of the deck chairs.  If he'd learned nothing else his first few years in Hollywood, it was that if he acted how people expected, he got his way much more often.  He snorted.  Unfortunately, that also meant acting like a spoiled jackass when he found it exhausting.  

Sam opened To Kill A Mockingbird and settled in the shade as he read, falling into the comfort of his favorite book.  It wasn't often that he had time to himself to let all of his acting fall to the side so he could just be...him.  Maybe one day when he was well-off enough he wouldn't need to worry about acting both on-screen and off to keep himself employed.  

Hours later, Sam took a deep breath and wandered around the house.  While he wasn’t under house arrest or anything ridiculous like that, he absolutely was in a situation where he couldn’t leave.  He also probably shouldn’t leave until the bodyguard showed up, in case Gen sent them over.  

He groaned and flopped onto his couch, turning the TV on.  So now he was left to entertain himself for the next week.  He flipped through a few channels before dismissing the idea that there would be anything on that he would want to see.  He opened his Netflix queue.  There had to be something that he felt like watching.   

A series of soft footsteps echoed in his hall.  Sam tensed and waited for them to walk a little closer.  Likely, they belonged to his new bodyguard, but if it was someone unfriendly he should be ready to surprise them.  

A low voice came from the doorway.  “You have a surprisingly low self-preservation instinct.”

Sam scoffed and didn’t bother opening his eyes.  “You’re twenty feet away from me, eighteen if I jumped over the back of the couch, there are two alternate exits out of this room, three if you include the window, and dammit my couch is comfy.  I’m not going to move unless I need to.”  He yawned and stretched.  “I’m 6’4”, in damn good shape, and I’ve taken more classes on self-defense than I want to think about.  Your average robber is screwed.  I’m guessing you’re Casteel, my new bodyguard.”  

“Castiel,”  the voice corrected.  

“Castiel.  Right.  Sorry.”  Sam flipped the TV off and sat up on his couch, looking over the back of it.  “So, Gen gave you a key to the house?”  

Castiel lifted up the key.  “You keep a spare one over the doorframe.  Wise, considering your height.  Poor decision for security.”  

Sam huffed and caught the key when Castiel threw it to him.  “I’d forgotten.”  

“You can no longer afford to forget,”  Castiel said.  He adjusted the bag on his shoulder.  “Will you show me the guest room?”  

Sam waved.  “Just head down the hallway on your left.  There’s four or five rooms.  Pick your fancy.  The ones on the left face the setting sun.”  He watched Castiel head down the hallway and noticed the outfit for the first time.  Trenchcoat.  He snorted.  Dude looked like a flasher.

...and dammit, he wanted a look at that ass.  Stupid coat.  Sam flopped back down on the couch and closed his eyes.  He could wait for the morning.  

“What time are you planning on waking in the morning?”

Sam opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.  He frowned.  He hadn’t heard Castiel approach that time and he sounded closer.  He sat up again and peeked over the edge of the couch.  

Woooooooooooooooooooooooooah.  Woah.  Holy.  Was this the same guy who had been wearing the suit, trenchcoat, and tie two minutes ago?  The black jeans and white button up suited him.  A little bit too much.  Sam swallowed and forced himself to tear his gaze away from those forearms.  “Uh…huh?”  

“I asked what time you are planning on waking in the morning.”  

Ooooh, now that was a sexy disgruntled face.  Sam grinned and rested his chin on the back of the couch.  Castiel even had perfect bed hair.  Not to mention those blue eyes were like lasers, staring directly at him.  “Eh.  Normally I’m up around five, five thirty to walk the dogs, but since they’re staying with my sister for another two days, I can sleep in.  I’ll probably manage to stay in bed until seven, go for a morning run, then figure out what I want to do with the rest of my day when I get back.”  

Castiel nodded.  “Very well.  I will see you at seven for your run.”  

Sam was so completely and utterly distracted by the sight of Castiel’s ass when he turned around and started to walk away that he forgot to protest the company.  He groaned and flopped back down onto the couch.  Shit.  He was going to end up with a shadow that he definitely didn’t need and it was entirely possible that the dude would slow him down.  

He threw an arm over his face and then chuckled.  How dramatic.  Tortured artists.  Tortured artists with a really fucking hot bodyguard.  Sam pulled out his phone and unlocked it.  He already had a text waiting from Genevieve.  

‘REMEMBER -- No sleeping with him!’

Sam huffed and typed out a reply.  ‘He’s hot!  That’s cheating!’

‘Samuel Winchester if you DARE sleep with him, I will remove your balls myself.’

Sam winced and automatically covered his junk.  Gen might actually mean that and he was rather...attached.  ‘Right.  No sleeping with the hot bodyguard.  Got it.’  

‘Good.  Now rest and enjoy your time off. :)’

Sam tossed his phone down at his feet and groaned again.  He was apparently going to have to deal with an epic case of blue balls.  But, he had script-reading to do at the least.  Gen had emailed him over a few things.  Sam grinned.  She might be a ball buster (Ha!  See, he could do comedy!), but she was worth every penny and pretty awesome.  

Sam glanced over at the clock and frowned.  He could not remember the last time he had contemplated going to bed before ten.  He clearly needed to stay up and watch more TV.  He flipped the TV back on and settled on the couch.  


Sam blinked blearily and sat up, looking around the room and staring at the flickering TV.  Someone (Castiel, had to be him) had turned the volume off and had covered him with a blanket.  What the fuck?  Had he paid for a babysitter and not a bodyguard?  He huffed, threw it off him, and wiped at his forehead.  He always got ridiculously hot under blankets.  

He stumbled to his room and tried not to look at the alarm clock numbers blaring four am at him.  He flipped it off as he stumbled into bed.  He would wake up soon.  Seven.  Right.  Seven am and he would go running.  

....with a tagalong.  Fuck.  


Sam woke up with a start, jolting out of his dream as he flailed in bed.  He turned and glared at his feet.  Dammit he was still wearing his shoes.  He turned to look at the clock and relaxed when he saw it was six thirty.  Plenty of time to get his ass up and find some clothes to go running in.  He stumbled to the closet and kicked off his shoes, opening the door and blinking at his shirts.  

Sweats.  He needed sweats.  

He really needed his brain to wake up.  He was normally much more awake and alert this time of the morning.  Must have been his passing out on the couch at some weird hour.  Sam yawned and shook his head, grabbing a pair of shorts and a tank top.  Running.  He would wake up after a long run.  

Then he remembered that he was going to have someone following him.  Dammit.  He glared at his closet and stripped off his shirt and jeans that he had fallen asleep in.  He licked his lips and thought for a moment.  Maybe...maybe...

An idea came to him a moment later and he grinned, his good mood immediately restored.  Maybe he would teach this bodyguard why he didn't need someone to go running with him.  Castiel was definitely in good shape, but Sam doubted there was any way he could keep up with him if he pushed.  

Giddy with the idea, Sam walked into the living room and froze at the scent of coffee. He followed his nose to the kitchen and blinked at the sight.  Castiel was wearing almost the same outfit he was.  And sipping a cup of coffee.  Out of his mug.  "Coffee?"  

Castiel waved to the machine and took another long sip of his coffee.  "I apologize for helping myself to your coffee and maker.  I am not,"  he took another sip,  "what one would call a morning person."

Sam grinned a little bit.  He could sympathize with that.  It was early for someone who normally didn't get up at these hours.  "By all means,  help yourself."  

Castiel nodded and finished off the last of his coffee, taking his cup to the sink and rinsing it out, before leaving it there.  "Did you wish to have any before we left?"  

Sam shook his head and made his way over to the fridge.  He pulled out the orange juice and took a few gulps straight from the carton.  "Nah, I'll have some when I get back."  

"Very well."  Castiel turned off the coffee maker and turned to face Sam.  "I am ready whenever you would like to depart.  Do you have a preferred route?"  

He didn't, normally, but he was going to bust his ass over the hardest one that was available to make sure Castiel regretted following him as much as possible.  “Yeah, it goes through the hills nearby.  If you can’t keep up, that’s fine.  The route takes me about an hour.”  More like it took him the better part of an hour and a half, but he would figure out a way to get it done in an hour.  

“Then I would suggest that you lead the way,”  Castiel said, rolling his shoulders a little bit.  

Sam took a deep breath and reminded himself of his goal.  He was doing this to show Castiel that he did not need a bodyguard to follow him around every single minute of every day.  Hell, he didn't need a bodyguard living with him.  


The second Sam stepped out into the sunshine, he ratcheted back his plan a little bit.  He wanted to enjoy this sunshine.  He set a basic jog for the first mile and led the way into the hills.  He was missing his run by the lake now.  It would have been nice and cool and not sweltering.  Ah well.  Priorities.  

Now that he was nice and warmed up, he picked up the pace.  After a few hundred yards, Sam stopped looking behind him to see if Castiel was keeping up.  Maybe Castiel would just give up and head back to the house.

That thought was more than enough to carry him up the steeper elevations, flipping through the songs on his phone while he sweated.  It would be worth it.  Worth it.  The burning in his legs would be worth it and he could sit by the pool for the rest of the day and relax and try to breathe.  

By the time he got to the second half of the run, Sam was starting to lag.  Not to mention there was no way that he was going to finish the run in the time he had set for himself.  Dammit.  Damn his ego and his need to leave Castiel behind.  He stopped at a small food stand advertising fresh fruit and water. He got a bottle of water, drinking half of it before pouring the rest over his entire head.  Castiel had to be miles behind him (though not likely literally).

What he was not expecting was for Castiel to come up next to him and ask for a bottle of water as well.  Sam nearly dropped the bottle as he stared at Castiel.  The man barely looked winded, though his shirt was sticky with sweat and his cheeks were looking a little pink.  

Sam swallowed.  Castiel looked like he had just rolled out of bed after a few very good rounds of sex.  What was this?  How had he managed to keep up?  

"You seem surprised,"  Castiel said, looking up at Sam as he took another few gulps of water.  He finished the bottle off in short order and tossed it into the nearby trashcan.  “You set a slower pace than I was expecting.”  

He could not punch his bodyguard.  He could not.  Genevieve would kill him.  Castiel could have kept up with a faster pace?  Fuck, this had nearly killed him as-is!  What was he supposed to do with information like that?  “Uh, yeah.  It’s a little hotter out than I suspected.  Slowed down.”  

Thankfully Castiel seemed to buy the excuse and was in the middle of purchasing a second bottle of water so it didn’t look like he was going to get quizzed any further on it.  Thank fuck.  Sam also purchased a second bottle and looked out over the rest of the road they needed to run.  Fuck, he was an idiot.

By the time he got back to the house, Sam was ready to drop and not move for the rest of the day.  In fact, that sounded like a simply marvelous idea and something that he was going to do immediately.  

He opened the door and stumbled into the glorious air conditioning, breathing in the artificial air with a grin.  He left the door open for Castiel and made a beeline for the kitchen.  He put two glasses on the counter and filled one up with cold water, gulping it down a minute later before repeating it.  His muscles were burning with the exertion, so he slowed down the pace.  Sam took a couple of deep breaths and grinned.  He hadn't enjoyed a run this much in ages.  

It wasn't a run that he could take Atticus on either, unfortunately.  Too long and not near enough shade.  But when he wanted to burn off some anger, it was perfect.  He chuckled and drank his third glass of water a little slower, savoring it, before turning to look at his bodyguard.  The man still looked unruffled and unaffected by the run that they had just taken.  Impressive, considering that, from what he remember, it was at least a 10k.  

He stretched, his muscles enjoying the pull.  He should go jump in the pool and do a few laps, let himself cool down properly.  

"If you will excuse me Sam, I am going to go take a shower." Castiel said.  

Sam nodded and, well, shamelessly oogled Castiel's ass in those shorts as he walked away.  Dude was packing some serious muscles under those baggy and ill-fitting clothes of his.  He resisted the urge to whistle and went back to sipping his water.  He'd promised Gen.  

He left the glass on the counter and made his way out on the patio to the pool.  Stripping off his shirt, he dove in and sank to the bottom of the gloriously cold water before breaking to the surface.  Swimming was something he did for pleasure whereas he ran to keep in shape (as well as the other obscene amounts of exercise he did) and it was always great to indulge in as a cooldown.  

He did a few laps and closed his eyes to just float on the surface of the pool, relaxing into the water.  Gorgeous out today.  Maybe he would spend the entire day in the pool.  That was an idea that had serious merit.  Then he remembered that his fridge was nearly empty and that he needed to go grocery shopping.  Especially if Castiel was going to live with him.  Who knew how much the dude ate?  

And, eventually, they would need to talk and do more than exchange a few basic words.  Sam sighed.  Castiel was going to be with him everywhere.  On set, in hotels, at home.  This was insane.  He didn't need this sort of babysitting.  But he'd have to deal with it, at least for a little while, to appease Gen and for everyone to shut up about what had happened.  

He did one more lap of the pool before lifting himself out and over to the rack where he kept the towels.  Castiel was lucky.  Normally he would have been swimming in the nude.  But, no need to scare the bodyguard when he had only been working for him for a day.  That would just be more than a little ridiculous.  Sam chuckled and toweled his hair off before making his way inside.  He should shower and then eat something.  

...except he was pretty sure he didn't have any food.  Dammit.  This was just not his week.  


By the time Sam managed to get himself showered and dressed, he came back out to the kitchen with his stomach grumbling loudly.  They would need to go out and get food and he was supposed to be laying low, which meant there were only a couple of places he could go.  

He did not expect to see a small bag on the counter and a plate with two large cinnamon buns sitting on it from his favorite bakery two blocks down.  Sam groaned and dove for the plate, picking one up to take a gigantic bite of it.  Sugar, cinnamon, and bliss.  Utter and complete bliss.  

"I am glad to see that these choices are indeed your favorites.  The woman who owns the store assured me that they were, but I did not have a way to confirm with her,"  Castiel said, taking another sip of his coffee as he flipped through the newspaper.  

Sam blinked at him.  People still got newspapers?  He was pretty sure that he didn't get any of them delivered anymore.  Where had Castiel gotten it from?  He grunted and took another bite of his food.  

He had to remember that he needed to act around Castiel.  Stupid Hollywood. He had to play it to a T to make sure that he didn't have any surprises with Castiel.  That was the last thing that he needed.  "Yeah, these are great, thank you."  

Realization dawned on him.  He was going to have to play it everywhere.  At home, at work, during travel.  His time to switch off the 'persona' was going to disappear as a result of Castiel.  Resentment surged through him again.  

"I would recommend that we make a trip for groceries at some point in the day.  There are several meals that I can make with your ingredients here, but it would be pertinent to perhaps go today and shop for the remainder of the week,"  Castiel commented.  

Sam waved a hand and finished off his first cinnamon bun.  "Sure, if that floats your boat.  Don't expect me to go with you."  He ignored the way that Castiel's eyes narrowed at him and went to the fridge for another glass of water.  

"Are you that afraid to go outside?  I was not aware that your experiences had made you skittish,"  Castiel stated, eating his own croissant.  

Sam's hackles were up in an instant.  "I am not skittish!"  

"Yet you are afraid to go shopping?"  

Sam scowled.  "Look, if you want to go shopping for food, you are welcome to take my credit card and go.  I don't give two shits."  

Castiel tilted his head and stared at Sam.  Strange.  "I will not use your money without you present.  You would not be able to ensure the integrity of my purchases."  

Sam laughed, waving a hand around the house.  "Not to toot my own horn here, but I'm not exactly badly off.  I am hiring a full-time bodyguard."  

"I work for Genevieve, not for you,"  Castiel said, putting his plate into the sink.  "And I would not presume the state of your finances.  There are many people who have lived in locations as opulent as these and yet faced bankruptcy."  

He had a point, but Sam was not about to acknowledge it to him.  Dammit.  He took another sip of his water and started to eat the second cinnamon bun.  He sighed.  "Like I said.  You can go shopping if you want.  I am just going to order pizza later and read some scripts."  He'd probably end up making a trip to the store, but he wasn't about to admit this now.  

"I shall decline,"  Castiel said, putting the rest of the things in the bags away.  "But you will need dog food for Atticus."  

"Shit,"  Sam swore under his breath.  He had to go pick up Atticus this afternoon from Dean's.  He'd completely forgotten and Castiel was right, he did need to go pickup dog food.  "All right, we'll go to the store.  Whenever you are ready to go."  

Castiel nodded.  "I will get my things and then we can go."  He turned and left the kitchen.  

Sam took another big bite of his roll and flipped Castiel off as he turned away.  He knew when he had been played and dammit if he hadn't fallen exactly into the 'trap' that the bodyguard had set.  Bastard.  Utter and complete bastard.  


Five hours, a trip to the grocery store, and a trip to Dean's place later, Sam flopped on the couch of his home, Atticus immediately curling up in front of the couch with him.  He could hear Castiel putting away the groceries in the kitchen, but he couldn't make himself get up to help.  He didn't want to move.  

He'd been recognized in the grocery store.  Not only recognized, people had started asking for autographs and had been verging on what he might have called a mob before Castiel had intervened.  Sam blew out a slow breath, ruffling his bangs.  It might be intrusive as fuck having a bodyguard, but for the two minutes that Castiel had spoken to the crowd, he had been terrifying.  

Except for one little girl who had dashed up to him for a hug (he could never resist the little kids), the rest of the group had dispersed and he had been able to go around and finish his shopping.  Castiel hadn't said a word since, other than to comment that the fruit or vegetables that he was buying were not the freshest option before handing him something else.  

Sam sighed.  Well, the score was one in Castiel's favor, nothing for him.  He'd just been caught by surprise and...and it had been really handy to have someone there to bail him out when he had gotten in over his head.  

"Are you all right?"  

Sam opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling before forcing himself to answer.  "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"  

"You haven't said a word to me since you have been home,"  Castiel said, walking around to the front of the couch.  He sat down in a chair not far from the TV, a book in his hand.  

Sam reached down and scratched Atticus behind the ears, relaxing at the familiar motion.  He sighed.  He was acting like an asshole.  There was no need for it.  He owed Castiel a thank you for, well, he wasn't going to say rescuing, but rescuing him.  "Thank you."  

Castiel gave a quick smile.  "You are welcome.  But those were not the words I was looking for."  

Sam blinked before sitting up a fraction to look at Castiel.  "Did you just make a Star Wars reference?"  An eyebrow was quirked at him and Sam started laughing, sagging back into the couch.  "So you aren't a robot!"  

"My sweating this morning during our run would be a very firm indicator of that,"  Castiel said.  

Sam grinned and sat up on the couch, starting to relax.  Maybe he and Castiel would be able to get along after all.  "Wow, you actually have a sense of humor."  

"An odd one, I have been told, but yes,"  Castiel added, giving Sam a smile as he settled back into the seat.  

Okay.  He could work with that.  And shit, Castiel's smiles were deadly.  Maybe he should go back to ignoring him.  That definitely seemed like a better idea for his libido and whatever else was involved.  "Good to know."  

Castiel nodded and opened his book, flipping to the page he had left off on.  "Then I assume tomorrow morning we will go on your usual jog through the neighborhood and not the one up into the mountains?"  

Sam snorted and covered his eyes with his arm as he sank back into the couch.  "Was it that obvious?"  

"It was obvious that while you are in excellent shape, that is not a path you run often,"  Castiel said.  

Well, that was a backhanded compliment if he had ever received one, but he deserved it after that kind of a stunt.  "I was mad and needed to work off some steam."  

"Angry about what had happened?"  Castiel asked, looking over the edge of the book.  

"Actually."  Sam debated being honest for a moment before throwing caution to the wind.  "I was angry that Gen went and hired you without telling me.  She didn't give me a choice in the manner.  I tend to value my privacy and I've acted like a dick to you ever since meeting you."  

Castiel closed the book.  "I apologize, I shall leave you to--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake sit down,"  Sam said.  "I'm trying to apologize, at least let me get it out."  Castiel stopped moving, his hand on his closed book.  Sam sucked in another breath and tried to figure out how he wanted to word this.  "Look, Castiel--"

"You may call me Cas, if you like.  It's a nickname my brother prefers,"  Castiel offered.  

Sam smiled.  "Cas, right.  Yeah, that's easier.  Thanks."  He inhaled.  "Look, what happened to me was a freak accident.  They were able to knock me out enough to drag me into a bathroom, but I woke up and began struggling right away.  Someone noticed less than five minutes later."  

Castiel was staring directly at him now and Sam squirmed a little bit under the attention.  He cleared his throat and kept talking.  "What I’m trying to say is, I'm not some sort of fragile flower that needs protection.  I know how to protect myself.  I appreciate your help earlier, and I'm sorry for how I've treated you, but I'm really not loving this invasion of my privacy."  

"Ah."  Castiel nodded.  "Have you ever had a situation happen like what did at the grocery store this afternoon?"  

Sam shrugged.  "Small times, groups of three or four people, nothing I couldn't manage on my own.  But something like that?  No."  

"I do not doubt your ability to take care of yourself, Sam,"  Castiel said.  "But my job is to make sure that you are not made uncomfortable.  It is not to protect you because you are a..."  He raised his fingers into quotation marks.  "Fragile flower."  

Sam blinked and he resisted the urge to start laughing.  Oh fuck that was adorable.  And made him realize just how long and slim Castiel's fingers were.  " aren't a protection detail?"  

Castiel fought down a smile.  "As you have pointed out, your frame is one that intimidates most.  You do not need protection as such.  Perhaps you do need someone so you are not alone, but you do not need protection."  

Sam blinked at Castiel again and thought about what he was supposed to say to that.  Huh.  Well.  Fuck.  Apparently Gen knew him better than he was willing to give her credit for.  

"I have surprised you,"  Castiel said.  

"Well, yeah, Cas.  I thought you were going to start dictating who I could see, what time I would be out, where I could go, shit like that,"  Sam said.  

Castiel tilted his head, staring at Sam.  "I do not see how any of that would possibly be conducive to a working relationship between the two of us.  Perhaps if I were trying to make you angry..."  

Sam started laughing again, he wasn't able to help it.  "Oh God, Cas.  I think we're going to be just fine.  Juuuuust fine."  

"I am glad that you think so.  Perhaps next time we go shopping we can go at a far less busy time?"  He offered.  

Sam grinned.  "Yeah.  I normally go on Saturday mornings.  Early.  They're not busy in the slightest then, and most of the cashiers know me."  

Castiel nodded.  "Perfect."  

Sam stretched out on the couch.  Hmm.  He might actually be sore tomorrow.  He'd pushed himself a little bit too hard running today.  "So, tell me about yourself, Cas.  You already know I'm a young Hollywood asshole, so you know everything you need to know about me."  

"I have four siblings, all older than me.  I was teased and bullied a great deal when I was younger.  I started taking self-defense classes at age six,"  Castiel said.  

Sam snorted.  "So I bet you're a serious badass now, aren't you?"  

"My five black belts and various other certifications would agree with you."

Sam's eyes widened a bit and he looked back over at Castiel.  No perverted thoughts, no perverted thoughts.  Holy shit. "Five?"  

"As well as a variety of others, yes."  Castiel said, nodding in confirmation.  "I can provide the qualifications for you if you'd like."  

Sam choked a little bit on his next breath.  Fucking hell that was the last thing that he needed.  To know just how strong Castiel was.  "How'd you get into the private detail work?"  

"I am very unobtrusive.  Often, would-be assailants do not notice I am there.  This allows me to be very effective, like earlier,"  Castiel explained, settling his book down on his knee.  "I do not have a body type people find intimidating and I dress to enhance that assumption.  This allows me the highest possible level of effectiveness."  

"Holy shit, that's hot,"  Sam muttered, ignoring the confused look from Cas.  Good, he hadn't heard.  Shit.  Someone who purposely deceived everyone he was around so he could do his job more effectively.  Sam could have been looking in a damn mirror.  "I can relate."  

"How?"  Castiel asked, tilting his head to study Sam.  

Sam blew out a long breath.  Maybe, maybe he could take a shot at this.  Then he wouldn't have to go running to Dean's house every time he needed to unwind and stop being the guy Hollywood thought he was.  That would be divine in the best possible way.  "So, here's the thing."  

Castiel was listening so intently, Sam could feel every ounce of Castiel's focus on him.  He shivered, wondering what it would be like to have that kind of focus pointed at you in bed.  Fuck.  Okay.  Not sexy thought time.  "So, I put on a persona here.  With...everyone.  Genevieve, my friends, people I work with, stuff like that."  


"I--"  Sam bit down on his lip.  For the first time, his normal answer did not seem like enough.  "Because it's easier."  

"Easier?"  Castiel asked.  

Sam shrugged.  "It's hard to explain.  But when I first got here, people were... I guess I can say turned off by me.  By my earnestness and how energetic I was.  If I acted the epitome of 'Young Hollywood' it was like the playing field was even again.  They knew how to treat me.  I started getting jobs and callbacks that I hadn't before."  

He sucked in a breath and dropped his eyes down to the carpet.  "I started getting more and more well known.  Being offered regular parts, not just one-off roles in smaller shows.  Becoming a season regular.  As long as I acted in a way that everyone knew and understood, it worked.  I haven't stopped since."  

"I see."  Castiel nodded and settled back into the chair.  "You do not need to act that way around me.  I do not care."  

Sam blinked again as Castiel opened the book and focused on it again.  He felt winded, like the confession should have meant so much more to Cas than it did.  “I...  That’s it?”  

Castiel looked up at Sam and tilted his head to the side.  "I beg your pardon?"  

"I tell you that everything I do, how I talk to everyone, is fake, and you just...don't care?"  Sam asked.  

"No.  You do not need to be that way around me.  I suspect I shall enjoy working with you much more if you do not."  Castiel turned his attention back to his book.  

Sam watched as Cas read a few more words before those blue eyes (christ, they were bluer than the damn ocean) focused on him again.  "Unless you have additional concerns?"  

"I..."  Sam pushed his fingers through his hair and tried to figure out if he did have additional concerns.  It definitely didn't feel like it, but he was completely thrown off by Cas now.  Cas just didn't give two shits about what he did in his personal and his work life.  That was refreshing in a way he didn't want to look too closely at.  He swallowed.  "No.  No, I don't.  Thanks."  

"There is no need to thank me, Sam,"  Castiel said, returning his attention to his book.  

aria_lerendeair: (Default)
Title: Bewitched
Author(s): Aria_Lerendeair
Artist: FigDrawsThings
Characters & Pairing(s): Castiel Novak/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Rating: Teen (Swearing)
Word Count: 8,307
Warning(s): Hogwarts AU, takes place post-HP world, just set in Hogwarts.
Summary: Sam's dealing with the trifecta of issues.  He's got his OWL's this year, his brother is off doing dangerous Auror-training and he has a crush on his brother's best friend, seventh-year Castiel Novak.  He's never going to make it through the year! 
Link to art 

Sam dashed through the halls, jumping the gap between staircases as he raced towards the library.  He did love living in Ravenclaw Tower, but the trek down to the library was a good ten minutes, five if you sprinted.  He was sprinting.  Cas was going to kill him for being late and he would deserve it (though he had a much shorter walk from the Hufflepuff common room). It was all Dean’s fault either way.  If he didn’t write Dean at least one letter a week, his brother got all frustrated and might send him another Howler.  

Sam shuddered and ducked past another small group of second-years, apologizing over his shoulder as he ran.  “Sorry, shit, I’m sorry, I’m late!”  

He stopped before the library doors, trying to catch his breath, glad that his backpack hadn’t fallen off his shoulder.  Sam sucked in another breath of air and worked to comb his hair down, hoping that he didn’t look like too much of a mess to Castiel.  

Sam pushed open the heavy wooden door a moment later and looked around the library.  He straightened his robes, clearing his throat a little when he saw Cas at a table by himself over in the corner.  He made his way over, holding tighter to the strap of his bag.  “Hey, Cas, sorry I’m late.”  

Castiel looked up at Sam and nodded.  “I was afraid that that you would not be joining me.”  

“Nah, promised I would, right?  ‘Sides, I need to study for the OWLs.”  Sam pulled out his Transfiguration book and opened it to the chapter he was working on.  Cas looked to be neck-deep in his Charms book and Sam smiled.  Cas always asked him for help with Charms.  Like Professor Flitwick had said numerous times,  he had a knack for it that few other students did.  

Sam forced himself to look back at the Transfiguration textbook and focused on the next chapter.  At least he had finished his Arithmancy homework.  The last thing he needed to worry about was math when his mind was filled with Cas.  “I was writing a letter to Dean.  If I didn’t get it mailed today, he would’ve sent me another Howler.”  

Castiel frowned.  “I did ask him to cease with such actions.  I believe he enjoyed the potential embarrassment that you would feel at such an action.”  

Sam snorted.  “Like that surprises anyone.”  

“Your brother simply misses you.  Ever since he graduated two years ago, he no longer gets to see you every day.  He also knows that you are nervous about your  OWLs and is frustrated he cannot be here for you. He only wants the best for you,”  Castiel said, smiling a little as he looked over at Sam.  “He has done the same to me for the last two years.”  

Sam smiled and looked back down at his textbook.  He would never understand how someone like his brother had been friends with Castiel.  They could not have been more different if they had tried. But they had been inseparable for years, despite being in different houses.  “You didn’t get Howlers!”  

Castiel chuckled.  “I didn’t forget to write him.”

Sam flushed, flipping a page in his book.  “I just, I got busy.”  

“Too busy to write your brother?”  Castiel chastised.  “Dean just misses you.  Auror-training is exhausting for him.”  

Sam fidgeted.  “I know.  I know it is.”  It was easier when Dean had been at the castle and could drag him off for some time together, no matter what it was.  “I miss him too.  Even if he is a class-a jerk.”  

Castiel smiled and turned his textbook towards Sam.  “I believe that he would be relieved to hear that.  Perhaps you should tell him that in your next letter.”

Sam leaned over the textbook and studied the charm that Castiel was struggling with.  His eyes lit up and he held out his wand.  “Okay, need help with this one?”  

“Yes.  I believe I am mispronouncing.”  Castiel shifted his chair closer to Sam to watch him perform the charm.  

Sam glanced down at the spell once more before holding out his wand.  Protean Charm.  He could do this.  It was a complicated maneuver and coupled with the strange pronunciation he wasn’t surprised that Cas was having trouble with it.  

“Okay, so I see what you mean about the pronunciation.  It’s weird.  So get this, it’s just like the Leviosa charm, you have to put that kind of, uh, shit, twang?  On it.  So, the long ‘o’ sound instead of short.  And then the wand motion…”  Sam twisted his wrist and watched Cas stare.  “What?”  

Castiel shook his head.  “You explain it so simply.  Could you repeat the wand motion for me?”  

Sam did it again, this time a little bit slower for Cas so he could watch and hopefully understand. “You’ve got to kinda twist in this direction and then it’s a flick-flick.”  

Castiel did it once and looked to Sam.  “Like this?”  

Sam reached out and wrapped his fingers around Cas’s wrist, shifting it carefully.  Fuck, Cas’s skin was so soft.  He sucked in a breath.  Hold it together.  He could do that.  He could.  “N-no.  Like this.  You’re holding your wand too tight.  Loosen your grip.”  Sam changed Cas’s grip on the base of his wand.  “Now like this, and this!”

Castiel breathed out slowly and repeated the motion, staring down at Sam’s hands as they dropped to the table.  “Is this correct?”  He raised his eyes to Sam and was surprised to see him flushed.  

Sam licked his lips and cleared his throat before looking down at the table.  “Y-yeah.  Try it one more time and lemme make sure you’ve got it right.”  He said, waiting for Cas to repeat the motion.  He grinned as it was done perfectly.  

“Professor Flitwick is right.  You truly do have a knack for Charms, Sam,”  Castiel praised, repeating the wrist-flicking motion once more.  

Sam blushed and stared down at his textbook.  "Thanks, Cas.  It's nothing compared to you and Arithmancy though.  You're brilliant with it.  And anything to do with Ancient Runes."  

Castiel smiled.  "It does help that I have been translating them since I was a child.  Your skills are far more applicable in everyday life, Sam."  He leaned over to look at what Sam was studying and smiled.  "It looks as though you are doing well."  

Sam bit down on his lip.  "Yeah, Professor Finnigan has gotten off my case since you started tutoring me."  

"You did not need my help,"  Castiel said, turning the textbook to him to study it.  "Just as you did not with Potions.  You simply get nervous."  

Sam fidgeted.  More like got distracted thinking about Cas.  "Yeah.  I'm worried about my OWLs.  I know I'll be fine, in theory, but it's one of those things where I'm just...not sure."  

Castiel looked up at Sam and smiled.  "Sam.  You will be fine.  Both Dean and I know this.  You will be fine and will not have any trouble.  I am certain that you will score all Outstandings, and when you receive your report card you will wonder how you ever had any difficulty."  

Sam shook his head.  "Nah, that'll be you with your NEWTs.  How’s Professor Granger treating you in Ancient Runes?"  

Castiel gave a wry grin.  "She is far harder on me than the others, but, as she points out, I do deserve it.  I am not worried.  She will be fine.  I would be more worried about her taking over Transfiguration next year,"  he teased, watching as Sam paled.  

"Oh no, I'm going to fail everything.  Everything."  Sam groaned, dropping his head to his textbook.  How could he have ever thought otherwise?  

"Nonsense.  You will not.  Neither Dean nor I will let that happen to you."  

Sam huffed into the pages.  "Neither of you are going to be here next year, remember?"  Sam said.  He knew he sounded too sad and depressed, but he didn't want to think about it.  Two years without Dean and Cas sounded horrible and it was happening in less than year.  

"Who knows, maybe I will come back and teach,"  Castiel said, smiling at Sam.  "However, you need to stop worrying about that and focus on your current predicaments.  Agreed?"  

Sam lifted his head to look at the textbook and then snuck another look at Cas.  His current predicament that had a perpetual case of bedhead and some of the bluest eyes he had ever seen.  Impossible to stop focusing on if he was honest.  "Yeah..."  

Castiel wrapped an arm around Sam and gave him a quick hug.  "It shall be all right, Sam.  I promise.  We will figure something out.  And you are far stronger than you give yourself credit for."  

Sam swallowed and leaned into Cas's side, closing his eyes as he did.  Cas smelled good, like he always did, and he was right.  He really was.  He needed to stop this moping and get a move on already.  There was nothing to be done for it.  He'd just have to get over it.  

"Now.  What are you having trouble with?"  Castiel asked, back to business.  


Sam flopped onto the couch in the corner of the common room, glad that the jog around the castle grounds had worn him out.  He'd needed it after fraying his nerves during several hours of study-session time with Cas.  He sucked in a slow breath and took a picture out of his wallet.  Dean and Cas gave him an enthusiastic wave, large smiles on their faces as they stood in front of their house last summer.  Cas had come to stay with them last summer and it had been one of the best that he could remember.  

It was also when he'd realized that he'd gone from 'hopeless crush' to 'hopelessly in love' with Cas.  Cas over the summer had been... Sam wished there was a proper word for it.  It was what he wanted.  Cas laughing, smiling, teasing both him and Dean, clearly relaxed and so happy.  His heart turned over in his chest and he sighed.  Not that Cas would ever, ever, ever look at him like that.  It was completely hopeless.  

"Are you still moping?"  

Sam looked up at Jess and smiled.  "I'm not moping, I'm...tired.  I just ran around the damn lake.  And castle."  

"You're moping,"  Jess announced, sitting on Sam's thighs.  "When are you going to do something about it?"  

"Do something about what?"  Sam tucked the picture away again and raised an eyebrow at her.  

"Cas, of course,"  Jess said, her voice matter-of-fact.  "You've dithered around for the past few years and now it's his last year.  Now is the time to act, Sam.  Have you figured out how to tell him yet?"  

Sam swallowed hard and shook his head.  “He’s never looked at me twice.  I’ve always been the kid that follows him and my brother around.”  

Jess sighed.  “Well, now you’re taller than he is and he’s going to have to get used to the fact that you’ve grown up.  In fact,”  she waggled her eyebrows,  “I bet that he would love to know just how much you’ve grown.”  


“Oh, don’t sound so scandalized.  Honestly, Sam.”  Jess rolled her eyes and settled back against the couch.  “We’re teenagers, this is what we’re supposed to be doing.”  

Sam rolled his eyes.  "Yes, god forbid we actually think about school.  Which is, you know, the reason we’re here."  

Jess shrugged and settled back in the chair.  "You need to live large, Sam.  You're a teenager and you only get to be one once, right?  I mean, are you really going to let your chance with Cas go by just because you're too scared to do anything else?  Hell, do I have to brew you a love potion?"  

"No!"  Sam blushed when his shriek attracted the attention of several other people in the common room.  "No, you do not need to brew me a love potion,"  he snarled, blushing as he stared at Jess.

"Well, you need to do something, or I'm just going to lock the two of you in a closet until you get your shit sorted out,"  Jess said, swinging her legs.  

Sam frowned and picked up the scroll of the essay he was working on.  "You wouldn't dare."  

"Try me,"  Jess retorted, sinking back against the couch.  

"I hate you."  

"You love me."  

"Unfortunately,"  Sam muttered, staring down at the parchment, unable to keep from groaning a little bit. He'd have to figure out what he was supposed to do now.  A threat like that from Jess was... Well.  It was a serious threat!  


The one person he could ask for advice was probably the worst person to go to in the world, but Sam was running out of options.  Jess had that look in her eyes that meant she was plotting, and whatever she was planning was bound cause him endless amounts of embarrassment.  Jess plotting was never a good thing.  Ever.

He sighed and closed the letter to Dean before handing it to Dean's owl, Impala.  Maybe Dean would have some good advice...or maybe Dean would send him a Howler saying how proud he was of 'little Sammy growing up at last'.  Sam groaned and dropped his head to the table.  Why on earth had he thought this was a good idea?  It was a terrible idea.  Completely and utterly terrible.  

Dean's reply came the next morning with breakfast.  Sam stared at the letter, unable to keep from blushing as he looked at it.  At least it wasn't a Howler.  It was plain, simple parchment.  Definitely a lot thicker than usual, which meant that Dean had actually written him a long response.  And probably included something embarrassing.  

Sam noticed Jess eyeing the letter and quickly shoved it in his robes.  He stuffed one more piece of toast in his mouth before mumbling something about his Astronomy homework and left the Great Hall.  There was an abandoned hallway on the third floor.  He could go there to be alone for a little bit and see what Dean had wanted to embarrass him with by writing.  

When he got up to the seventh floor he realized that there was a door in the normally empty hallway.  He stared at it for a long moment, wondering when it had appeared.  His eyes lit up as he realized what it was.  The Room of Requirement.  He had thought it was only a myth.  Or, well, some weird-ass rumor that had been passed down for ages through the student body.  

He opened the door and shut it quickly behind him, his eyes lighting up as he looked around.  In the room were some of the comfiest looking chairs he had ever seen and bookshelves lined every wall.  Sam immediately relaxed and walked towards one of the chairs.  Now he saw why the rumors of this room existed.  It was amazing.  He sank into the soft red cushions and groaned.  It was perfect.  Completely perfect.  

He looked down at the letter in his hands and sighed.  He didn't have long before Potions.  He needed to read this and then head upstairs for his bag before heading to the dungeons.  He peeled open the seal on the letter and blinked in surprise when a book fell into his lap.  

Sexy Sexing Advice for Minors

(Featuring: Magical contraception, Do Not Use Food as Lube, How NOT to get your girlfriend pregnant on the first date, and How to land a kiss on the first date)

Sam blushed scarlet and flipped the book over in his lap.  On the back was a rather vivid picture of a girl riding a girl.  He covered the picture with his hand and fought down the blush.  "Dammit, Dean,"  he snarled.  Thank fuck he hadn't opened this at the breakfast table.  He was going to murder his brother the next time he saw him.  Murder him and hide the body and somehow get away with it completely.  

He looked at the letter in his hand and smiled, despite himself, at the sight of Dean's handwriting.  It was scratchy, but it was at least reassuring that his brother was in one piece, despite the Auror training that he was currently going through.  

Well, well, well, look at my little Sammy finally growing up and being interested in girls and boys.  

By the way, did you actually expect to surprise me with the fact that you like both girls and guys?  I've certainly never had any qualms about dating both, why would I give two shits about what you want to do?  Seriously, Sam, at least give me a little credit here.  

Anyways!  It sounds like you are in quite the predicament, lusting after this upperclassman.  Especially since he is in his last year.  Never could make things easy for yourself, could you?  

Sam sighed and shook his head.  Dean was such a dick.  He loved his brother.  Dearly.  But he was a royal dick and a half most of the time.  Pain in the ass.  He sighed and focused on the letter again.  

But no matter!  

Little bro, you need to have a hell of a lot more faith in yourself.  Yeah, you might get turned down, that's the reality of liking someone, but you're a nice kid.  Unless they are a total dick, they aren't going to be mean about it.  And yeah, if they do, it's going to hurt.  But it isn't the end of the world and you'll find someone who is worth your time before you know it.  

So, chin up, read this book (no bullshit now, the book actually does help, especially in the magical world, so get your shit together and read it) and go confront him already.  

Who knows.  Maybe he likes you back!  

Or maybe you can just give him an awesome blowjob and he'll learn to love you!

Talk to you soon, bitch!

Sam sighed and stared down at the book in his lap.  Well.  He was alone.  There was no one that was going to interrupt him, and he did have a little bit of time until Potions.  


Sam looked up and down the hallway before slipping into the Room of Requirement.  He had the book hidden beneath his robes, just in case he ran into anyone.  The last thing he needed was someone realizing exactly what he was reading.  It was surprisingly informative.  

There was something to be said about being informed.  Sam tilted his head back against the chair and let the book fall into his lap.  He wanted to tell Cas.  He did.  He really did.  But he also didn't want to lose Cas as a friend.  

He sighed.  It was an age old conflict.  Dammit.  There was even a chapter in the book dedicated to it.  And as far as he had figured, the authors were firmly on the fence about it.  There was no right answer.  He just had to decide for himself.  

According to Dean, it was better to take the leap and risk it.  But if Dean knew it was Cas, would he still want him to?  Would Dean get angry at him?  Or worse, angry at Cas?  Sam swallowed and covered his face with his hands.  


Sam flailed and sat up in the chair, the book falling to the ground.  He stared at Cas, who was closing the door behind him.  His heart was pounding wildly and he flushed, quickly kicking the book under the chair.  "Cas!  Wh-what are you doing here?"  

Castiel chuckled.  "I was about to ask you the same question.  It's not often I see someone utilizing the Room of Requirement besides myself."  

"You come here too?"  Sam ignored the curl of happiness in his stomach that this was something he and Cas shared.  It was their secret.  Something for them.  

"Often.  I find it a quiet place to study or when I need time alone.  I was surprised to see you come in, though."  

"Am, am I not allowed?"  Horror filled Sam.  He hadn't even thought of that.  Could he be expelled for coming in here?  Oh god, he probably could.  He grabbed his bag and started walking towards Cas.  "Oh fuck, Cas, please don't tell the Headmaster, I know you're Head Boy, but I didn't know, and I'm so-"  Sam froze when Cas's finger suddenly pressed against his lips.  

"And you are a Prefect.  Take a deep breath, Sam.  You are more than allowed to be here.  I meant that many students don't believe this place exists.  I happened across it by chance."  Castiel pulled his finger away after a long moment and smiled at Sam.  "All right?"  

Sam sucked in a nervous breath, his heart still hammering.  He licked his lips quickly and tasted the salt of Cas's finger, his whole body trembling at the realization.  Cas's eyes went dark, even as they continued to look at each other and Sam swallowed hard.  "Yeah.  I just..."  

"I know."  Castiel smiled.  "Sometimes you wish for time alone.  We are both like that.  We enjoy our solitude and the common rooms do not much allow for that."  He reached out and ruffled Sam's hair, grinning at the indignant flail that got him.  

By the time he had pulled far enough away from Cas to keep out of reach of those fingers, Sam knew his hair was a mess.  He huffed and tried to straighten it.  "Cas, why did you have to fuck up my hair,"  Sam whined.  

Castiel chuckled.  "Perhaps I needed to because Dean is not here to do it."  

Sam laughed and grinned at Cas.  "You tell him that you're his stand-in and he can give you the list of pranks he is waiting to spring on me as soon as summer starts."  

"No, I believe I shall leave that to Dean.  It is always fun to watch,"  Castiel said.  He shook his head and smiled at Sam.  

"Oh!  Please tell me you’ll be spending the summer with us.  I need Dean-protection.  He’s going to mother-hen me all summer if you aren’t there."  Sam hoped Cas would be there, he really did.  Between watching Cas try Dean’s firewhiskey for the first time and Cas talking with him about school stuff and magic for hours into the had been amazing last year.  

Castiel laughed and smiled at Sam.  "I am not certain yet.  It will depend on the field that I go into."  

"You aren't going to be an Auror?"  Sam asked, surprised.  Castiel had planned to do so since he had first started at Hogwarts.  "Dean'll be sad."  

"I think, while I could be an Auror, it is not what I want for myself.  Much like you.  You could be an Auror in a moment, if you wished to.  But is that what you want to do?  Truly?"  Castiel asked.  

Sam thought about it and shrugged.  "I know Dean would love if I was an Auror with him.  But I'd also like to work at a different branch of the Ministry.  Or, you know.  Something else."  

"Exactly what I meant,"  Castiel said with a smile.  "Either way.  You do not need to make your choice tonight.  I will see what I can do for the summer as it gets closer."  

"You should come stay with us for at least a coupla weeks!"  Sam said, cursing himself for looking so eager.  "I know Dean would love it if you could.  And, and I would, too,"  he added, kicking at the stones beneath his feet.  

Castiel nodded.  "Then I shall do my best to make sure that I am able to visit for a couple of weeks.  I would greatly enjoy spending that time with you and Dean again."  

Sam brightened and grinned at Cas.  "Good!"  The clock on the wall chimed the hour and Sam stared at it.  He was late for Arithmancy.  "Oh no!  Shit, I've got to go, Cas!  I'm late!"  He settled his backpack over his shoulder and bolted for the door, closing it behind him.  It wasn't until he was safely seated in class that he realized: he'd left the book in the Room of Requirement.  The book that had Dean's letter as a bookmark.  Cas had seen him push the book under the seat.  Oh no.  Oh no.  Cas was going to look at it, maybe even read the letter.  Sam bit down on his lip to keep from groaning and buried his face in his arms.  Oh NO.  


Sam managed to avoid Castiel for the next few days, sometimes outright running in the other direction when he saw the other boy approaching.  He'd gone back to the Room of Requirement after Arithmancy and he'd been right.  The book, with Dean's letter, was gone.  

He groaned.  He was never going to be able to face Cas again.  Especially if Cas started asking questions about who he liked.  That was going to be terrifying and horrible.  Sam went on twice as many runs than he had in the past couple of months, in an attempt to run off the frustration.  At least he was gaining some decent muscle from all the exercise, looking less like an over-stretched piece of putty.  Fringe benefits.  

But today was Thursday.  And Thursday meant that it was time for their weekly meeting in the library.  They'd been doing this meeting since Sam was a first-year and he wasn't about to skip it.  No matter what Cas ended up saying to him.  At least, that's what he told himself.   

Sam opened the door to the library and adjusted his backpack on his shoulder, walking towards the table Cas had in the back, as usual.  At least the library was mostly empty and no one would be around to witness his humiliation.  He swallowed and slid into his seat next to Cas.  He could almost feel the heat the other boy was giving off and he wanted nothing more than to melt into Cas and never leave.  

"You've been avoiding me,"  Castiel said.  

Sam slammed his eyes shut.  So they were going to get right into it, were they?  Just as well.  Just get it over and done with and he wouldn't need to think about it anymore.  Would be able to stop obsessing over it.  "Y-yeah,"  he whispered.  

"Because of this?"  Castiel slid the book across the table until it was in front of Sam.  

Sam opened his eyes in a panic at the thought of that title being visible!  But Cas had wrapped it, just like a parcel.  It looked harmless and innocent.  "I didn't...I didn't mean for you to find it,"  Sam mumbled, chewing on his lip.  

Castiel sighed and turned to Sam.  "I am sad that you thought it would matter to me."  When surprised hazel eyes jumped to him, he smiled.  "I am best friends with your brother, Sam.  He owned the book before you did.  He took great pleasure in reading it aloud to embarrass me."  

Sam blinked in surprise and his mouth dropped open as he looked down at the book in his hands, opening it carefully, making sure no one was looking.  Dean...Dean had owned this book?  It was his copy?  

Sam flipped to the front cover and was unsurprised to find a drawing of a giant dick, complete with hairy balls and come....and Dean's name in the corner.  He snorted and looked up at Cas.  "I'm sorry I've been avoiding you.  I just...I didn't-"

"I know,"  Castiel smiled.  "You and I have both grown up with your brother, who does not know the meaning of the word privacy if it hit him over the head.  You and I like the illusion of privacy at the least."  

"Y-yeah,"  Sam squeaked, cursing his voice a moment later.  Castiel was still staring at him and Sam could feel his cheeks heating in an a truly epic blush.  

Castiel nodded.  "Are you done avoiding me?"  He asked.  

"Yes,"  Sam gave a quick nod.  "I promise, no more avoiding."  

"Good.  Now, who is this boy that you like.  Is it someone in your house?"  Castiel asked.  "Dean made me promise to ask and get whatever details I could.  It might be better if you tell me."  

Sam flushed back to bright red.  "Uh, I don't-"

"Dean told me you liked someone here.  A boy,"  Castiel narrowed his eyes.  "It is someone who deserves you, isn't it?"  He pondered for a moment.  "Samandriel, perhaps?"  He thought for a few more minutes.  "Gabriel?"  He wrinkled his nose at the idea of Sam's romantic attachment being to his older brother, but Gabriel had graduated, so he was an unlikely candidate.    

Sam swallowed and shook his head.  He had had a crush on Gabriel when he was a second year.  That had ended aggressively when Gabriel had dumped itching powder down his robes right before class.  "No, no, Cas, I don't like anyone.  Dean is probably just joking."  

"He seemed very insistent.  Said that you were acting very much like a teenage girl over him."  Castiel smiled and reached out to squeeze Sam's wrist.  "Regardless, you do not have to tell me, or Dean if you do not wish to.  Dean and I only want the best for you and want to make sure that it is someone worthy of you."  

Sam huffed again and stared down at where Cas's fingers were wrapped around his wrist.  He wanted to be smooth like Dean and turn his hand around in Cas's grip and pull Cas closer and say that it was Cas that he wanted.  Not Samandriel, not Gabriel, but Cas.  Because Cas was amazing and funny and so wonderful that sometimes he had to remind himself that Cas was not an angel like his name suggested.  

"I know,"  he said, his voice meek.  He smiled at Cas and regretted not taking Cas's hand the second the older boy pulled it away.  

"So, will you tell me who it is that you like?  Or shall I keep guessing?"  Castiel teased.  

"No, no, no, no, stop.  I'm not going to tell you, even if you do guess it."  Sam pulled out his Arithmancy textbook and buried his nose in it, attempting to ignore Cas as he continued to list off names from both the 7th and 6th year students.  There was a point where he was positive Cas had named every male student in both years except for himself.  Sam could feel his ears burning in embarrassment.

"D-Do you need any help with Charms?"  He asked in a frantic attempt to change the subject.  

Castiel chuckled and looked back to his textbook.  "I suppose that I can let you off the hook for right now.  But do not think I won’t ask you many more questions later about him."  

Sam groaned.  "I have the nosiest friends ever."  

"Does Jess know?"  Castiel asked suddenly.  

Sam froze, his eyes widening in horror before he focused on his book.  Don't give it away.  Don't give it away.  Don't give it away.  He chanted to himself, praying that Castiel wouldn't read the answer on his face like he could everything else.  

"She does.  Hm.  Perhaps I shall have to ask her to tell me."  Castiel turned back to his textbook.  

Sam gave a small groan.  He wanted to melt into the floor of the library.  It was Jess.  If Cas came to her, asking who Sam had a crush on... He didn't want to imagine it, but it wasn't going to be good.  She might tell him everything!  "Cas, please..."  

Castiel reached out and squeezed Sam's arm again.  "Do not worry.  I shall make sure that she only gives me a name.  Any confessions you have made outside of that will remain a secret."  

Sam wrapped his arms around his face and tried to ignore the chuckle that Castiel gave.  Cas always chuckled low in his throat, like the sound was one that he wasn't expecting and it made Sam want to pin him to the table and kiss him until he couldn't breathe.  "A name is bad enough,"  he mumbled.  

"Have you thought about how you are going to tell him?  I know Dean likely advised to just kiss them and get the moment over with, but there are several other pieces of advice that I would recommend instead, but in the end, it is up to you,"  Castiel added, flipping through the pages in his Charms textbook.  "Is he shy?"  

Sam resolutely ignored the rest of Castiel's questions about his crush as they worked on several different charms that Castiel was struggling with.  In turn, Cas helped him with a few different curses for Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Not that he'd been struggling with them, but Sam couldn't seem to string two words together without blushing and it was frankly starting to become a little embarrassing.  

By the time he crawled back up to the dorm room, Sam was trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say to Cas when Jess spilled the beans.  She had not been in the common room, so there was no way he'd be able to see her tonight and get to her before Cas.  Sam whined and threw an arm over his eyes.  

Fuck.  This was a mess.  A huge fucking mess of epic messery.  He was never going to get out of this.  And worst of all?  He might lose one of his best friends thanks to this whole mess.  He bit down on his lip and rolled over on his side.  

Dammit, he wanted Dean here.  At the very least, Dean would hug him and let him be insecure for a few minutes before making fun of him for it.  And a walk was definitely not an option, with the teachers monitoring the corridors to make sure no student was out of bed.  Sam groaned into his pillow.  He could go take a bath if he was willing to sneak downstairs two floors.  He sighed again.  Dammit.  

Sam closed his eyes and tried to force himself to sleep.  It was a long time coming.  When he did finally manage to dream, it was of Cas's eyes smiling at him and how chapped lips would taste.  


Sam did not get a good night's sleep.  He'd wanted one, oh he had definitely wanted one, but it had been impossible to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time.  Especially with his thoughts as convoluted as they had been.  He swore and rolled out of bed, getting dressed a moment later.  

He made his way down to the Great Hall before sinking into his seat besides Jess.  "Did you see Cas already?"  

The pitying look from her as she chewed her bacon was enough to confirm it for him.  Sam slammed his eyes shut.  Everything at the table looked instantly unappetizing.  Cas knew.  Cas knew.  Sam stood up and grabbed his backpack.  


Sam ignored Jess and made his way back out of the Great Hall.  He headed straight for the Room of Requirement.  It didn't matter that Cas would find him here.  Maybe Cas hadn’t been downstairs and he would at least have a little time to himself.  

The second he opened the door Sam took note of the couch and the bed that were in the room instead of the normal bean bags, couches and chairs. Sam gulped and made a beeline for the couch.  It was tall enough for him (even at six feet and growing, which was impressive) and he threw himself down on it, hiding his face in his arms.  He was never going to be able to face Cas again, that was for certain.  

He would just have to spend the rest of the year running from and ignoring his best friend, and now Cas was never going to come with them over the summer, which meant that Dean would figure it out and blame him and then Dean would hate him and, and, and-


Sam made a noise into his arms.  Of course Cas was here.  Of course he was.  Cas wasn’t going to let him hide like the coward he was.  Sam swallowed and didn't look at the other boy.  "Y-yeah?"  

"Is everything all right?  I saw you run out of the Great Hall..."  

Everyone had seen him run out of the Great Hall.  Everyone.  And now everyone knew exactly what had happened.  And Cas was standing here, walking closer because Cas was his friend and Cas was worried that something was wrong.  How could anything be wrong?  Sam sneered into his arms.  "Cas, I think you know exactly what's wrong."  

Castiel hummed and sat down on the small sliver of couch next to Sam's hip and touched Sam's shoulder gently.  "I think I can guess it has something to do with this person you have a crush on."  

Sam snorted.  Of course it did.  

"Did they reject you?"  Castiel asked, his voice soft.  "I know it hurts Sam but-"

Sam made a confused noise into his arms and looked over his shoulder at Cas, scowling at him.  "What are you talking about?"  

Castiel blinked.  "I beg your pardon?"  

Sam narrowed his eyes.  "Didn't you talk to Jess?"  

"I, yes?  She told me that I needed to speak with you about it.  She advised not letting you run away next time."  Castiel cleared his throat.  

Air flew back into Sam's chest as he inhaled.  Oh god.  Jess hadn't told Cas.  She hadn't told him anything.  Which meant that Cas didn't know.  He tensed under Cas's hand and dropped his face back into the pillow.  He'd freaked out for nothing.  For no reason other than to freak out.  He groaned.  "I'm going to kill her."  

"I would advise against it.  That would result in your expulsion and I know that you like to avoid that when it is possible,"  Castiel teased, running his hand over Sam’s shoulder and down his back slowly.  

Sam melted into the couch, unable to help it.  Cas's hand felt big and warm through his shirt, the touch just hard enough to be rough and good.  A lot like Cas.  Rough on the outside, but steady.  There.  Always there.  Sam groaned into his arms again.  Dean was right, he was a teenage girl.  Fuck.  

"Sam?"  Castiel said.  

Sam lifted his mouth off of his arm, just high enough to speak.  "Yeah?"  

"Why were you so upset at the thought of my knowing who it is that you like?  I have never seen you as distressed as you have been the last two days,"  Castiel asked, rubbing gently over Sam's shoulders.  

Sam closed his eyes and shook his head.  He wasn't going to answer Cas's question, no matter how much he wanted to.  It wasn't worth it.  It really, really, really wasn't worth it.  

"I thought about it, after our discussion in the library."  Castiel felt the way Sam's entire body went tense in an instant and debating continuing the train of thought as he had started it.  But perhaps...perhaps if they were to speak about it, Sam would not continue feeling the way he was.  

"I realized I should not have pushed you the way I did.  I'm sorry.  I did not mean to make you uncomfortable,"  Castiel said.  He pulled his hand away from Sam's back.  "I hope you know that Dean and I both ask you these questions out of care for your well-being.  Not because we wish to embarrass you."  

Sam lifted his head off his arms just enough to free his mouth and make it easier to respond.  "I do know, Cas.  I do."  

Castiel smiled and dropped his hand to his lap.  "Are you afraid that we, excuse me, that Dean will not approve of him?"  

"Nah,"  Sam whispered.  Dean would never dislike Cas.  Even he were dating Sam.  At least, that's what he thought.  He wouldn't know for sure until something happened, and since nothing was ever going to happen, it was a moot point.  

Castiel hummed again and looked down at his hands.  "I believe that I agree with Dean, Sam.  You will need to tell him sooner, rather than later.  This may eat you alive if you do not."  Castiel touched Sam's shoulder again, only for a brief moment.  "If they hurt you, you can always ask me to give them a few extra detentions.  I am more than willing to do so."  

Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.  This was terrible.  Terrible, horrific, and so very Cas.  "Cas, you don't need to give them detention.  That’s not what I want."  

"Then what do you want, Sam?  You seem very conflicted on that point,"  Castiel said.  

That was the problem.  One of many problems.  He wanted Cas.  He wanted to kiss him, mess him up and laugh with him and spend every summer with him.  He wanted Cas not to leave school, but to be here to tutor him so Sam could kiss him between complicated chapters of Transfiguration that he was still trying to figure out.  But more than anything else, he just did not want to lose Cas's friendship.  A small broken noise escaped him into his arms and he hunched his shoulders.  

Castiel sighed and stood up, dusting off his pants and his robes.  "Just know that both Dean and I are here for you, should you need us, Sam,"  he offered, heading towards the door.  

Sam's head was pounding.  Cas was going to walk away and give him space, because that's how Cas was.  Because Cas understood and Cas knew him better than everybody except Dean and Cas was perfect and Cas was going to leave.  "Wait!"  He turned to look at Cas's back.  He had one hand on the knob of the door.  

Sam swallowed and pushed himself upright, sitting on the edge of the couch, his feet on the floor.  He gripped the edge of the cushion tight.  "You're right.  I am...messed up about this.  ‘Cause I'm friends with him.  I care about him.  And I like him so much it's getting to be impossible to keep it myself and I don't want to lose our friendship."  

Castiel turned to face Sam again.  "A real friend wouldn't judge you for that.  They would simply make their feelings known and then you can both proceed as you want to."  

Sam forced down the laugh that got caught in his throat.  Instead, a strangled noise escaped.  He saw Cas take a few steps closer in concern and took a deep breath.  It was now or never.  He had to do it.  Come on.  He could do it.  "So.  Will you?"  

Castiel blinked in confusion.  "Will I what?"  

"Will you judge me for it?"  Sam managed to get the words out and looked up at Cas.  He bit down on his lip hard enough to taste blood and waited.  It took a moment, but he saw the instant Cas realized what he was getting at.  Blue eyes went wide and landed on him, then didn't look away.  Sam shook under that gaze, eventually dropping his head to stare down at his knees.  

Castiel walked closer until he was standing in front of Sam.  "Sam-"

"No, just, let me get this out, okay?  I need to say this, or I'm never going to,"  Sam said, digging his fingers into the cushions even more.  "You named and thought of every single sixth and seventh year here except for you.  You’ve done nothing but be great as you tried to help me.  You didn't tease me about the book."  

Sam swallowed again and then kept going.  "You get an adorable wrinkle between your eyebrows when you’re struggling with something, usually a charm that you don't understand.  You have a sense of humor that I swear only Dean and I get and, dammit Cas, every time you laugh, I can't help but grin, because your eyes crinkle and you give such a large smile and you laugh with your entire body that I can't help it."  

"Help what?"  Castiel asked, his voice soft.  

Sam gave a helpless laugh and looked up at Cas, standing only a few feet away from him.  "I can't help being totally in love with you, Cas.  I’ve given up trying to help it.  I've been in love with you since last summer, and I just... I keep finding more reasons to love you since then!"  Blue eyes were still riveted to him, and for once, Sam had no idea what Cas was thinking or feeling and it was terrible.  He wished there was some way for Cas not to hate him after this.  


"Just..."  Sam dropped his eyes to the floor again and sighed, his shoulders slumping.  "Just don't stop talking to Dean or anything stupid like that.  I can get over this.  I promise.  I know that I don’t have a chance with you, I knew it from the very first day and it's just, I can’t help it.  I like you so much, Cas,"  Sam choked down a sob.  "I'm sorry."  

Sam fought down another cry when Cas immediately wrapped his arms around him and pushed him back onto the couch.  Castiel was doing his best impression of an octopus, his arms wrapped tight around him, and all Sam could do was cry.  "Don't go, Cas, please don't go.  Don't leave, please,"  he begged.  He didn't have any shame left.  None.  All he could hope was that Cas didn't march out the door and say he never wanted to see him again.  

Sam blinked up at Cas when he felt the other boy shift and press him back into the couch cushions until he was laying flat, stretched out across the couch.  He saw that Cas was smiling, really smiling, and his heart turned over in his chest.  Why was Cas smiling like that?  Was he going to let him down gently?  Oh god, he was.  He was.  Sam was going to be sick.  He knew it.  He was going to be sick all over Cas and Cas would hate him and would never talk to him again.  

Castiel leaned down and pressed their foreheads together.  "Sam Winchester.  You are completely ridiculous,"  he said.  

Sam swallowed and thought about that for a minute.  Okay.  So that wasn't an immediate rejection.  But, then, what was-

"What on earth makes you think that I would ever stop talking to you or your brother?  I consider you both my family, more so than my real family, you know that,”  Castiel said.  He shifted until he was laying on top of Sam and stared at him.  

“I…”  Sam bit down on his lip and looked up at Cas.  “Can we just forget that I said anything?”  

Castiel hummed and stared at Sam.  “I have an alternate preference.”  

“O-okay?”  Sam said.  Now he just had to hope that Cas didn’t say he never wanted to see him again.  

“Dean’s recommendation.”  

Sam blinked in confusion.  “Dean’s recommendation of what?”  

Castiel chuckled.  “How to confess your feelings to the person you liked.”  

“He said I should just tell them already or-”  Sam blushed.  His face went firetruck red.  “Cas!!”  

Castiel broke into peals of laughter, burying his face in Sam’s neck.  “Oh, Sam.  Your face!  I am not telling Dean.  I am keeping that to myself.”  He pulled back to grin at Sam.  “So?”  

Sam was nothing but confused, and he looked up at Castiel.  “So?”  His heart started to pound all over again at the look Cas gave him.  A small seed of hope started to grow as Cas smiled and leaned in.  “Cas?”  

“It has been terrible to imagine what boy here caught and held your interest so intently that you would even ask Dean for advice,”  Castiel whispered,  “and I did not name myself for a very specific reason.  I could not stand the thought of you confirming that it was not me.  I knew you would, but I would not have been able to watch.”  

Sam gasped and stared up at Cas.  He couldn’t look away.  No, this couldn’t be.  It couldn’t be.  It couldn’t.  “Cas…?”  

Castiel’s eyes dropped to Sam’s lips, where he had bitten them red.  He licked his lips and leaned closer until they were sharing breath.  “Dean has often teased me for liking you.  I had sworn him to secrecy.  I did not want to risk your friendship if he were to tell you.”  

Sam wanted to laugh.  It was right there, deep in his chest.  Instead he leaned up and pressed his lips to Cas’s and melted.  Just like that, no more words were needed.  Sam lifted his hand to Cas’s hair and tangled his fingers into that perpetual bedhead.  He swallowed the low groan from Cas and pulled the other boy closer to him.  

Castiel sank into the kiss and pressed as close to Sam as he could possibly get.  He lifted his fingers and sank them into Sam’s hair, smiling against Sam’s lips when that made him shiver and buck under him.  He pulled back so they could both breathe and smiled at Sam, brushing his hair out of his face.  “All right now?”  

Sam nodded and pulled Cas down and into another kiss.  “Dean’s gonna kill us.”  

Castiel broke away from the kiss to laugh, grinning down at Sam.  “I have an idea.”  

Sam wrapped his arms around Cas and yanked him back into a kiss.  They could talk ideas later.  Much, much later.  Maybe even serve detention together, since he had no intention of letting Cas out of his arms.  

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I'm honestly hoping that by going to DreamWidth, I'm not going to have the issues posting that I did on LJ. Those drove me insanely nuts.

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