quiddative: Thor (Land of Make Believe)
a question to the world ([personal profile] quiddative) wrote in [community profile] conversely2010-09-07 07:54 pm

[Supernatural] Lips like Liquorish, Tongue like Candy | Sam/Gabriel

Title: Lips like Liquorish, Tongue like Candy
Prompt: "I said no more teachers / And no more books / I got a kiss under the bleachers / Hope that nobody looks / Lips like liquorish, tongue like candy" College AU, Gabriel and Sam are roommates.

It wasn’t the first time that Sam wished he possessed superpowers like the X-Men Dean was so obsessed with during his comic book phase, such as the ability to shoot laser beams from his eyes at annoying roommates.
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Warning: none
Word Count: 4,837
Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing Kripke's toys to play with in my sandbox for a while.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this is super late,
[info]insatiablegrit, but I hope this lives up to your expectations!

“So,” says Gabriel curiously. “You’ve never... done it before? Like, ever?”

Sam wishes he doesn’t blush so easily but Gabriel must have seen his face redden like a tomato because his grin widens to the point where he looks vaguely like the Joker. It’s a disturbing image. “I have,” he says. “it’s just... it’s been a while.” Since Jess, the girl he thought was The One but turned out not to be.

“A while?” Gabriel looks down. Apparently he has no qualms with staring unabashedly at other guys’ crotches. “What, you a monk or something?”

“No.” Sam shifts around in his bed and tries to throw the duvet over his legs without it looking too obvious. “I broke up with my girlfriend before coming here and haven’t found anyone since.”

Gabriel bursts out laughing. He leans over, closing the small distance between his bed and Sam’s, to pat him on the shoulder. “Oh, good.” He smirks. “For a minute there I thought you were actually a virgin because if you were, that would’ve just been sad.”

And thus ends Sam’s first Bonding Moment with his roommate. He secretly hopes to never go through that again.


The thing is, Gabriel isn’t supposed to be Sam’s roommate. His original roommate was supposed to be Castiel.

They met in the beginning of junior year of high school (in their first Computer Science class, actually. Dean called them nerds but Sam proved that nerds weren’t beings to be messed with when he hacked into Dean’s laptop that one time and changed all his icons into My Little Pony heads. Good times.) and have been friends ever since. When they found out that they were both going to Stanford, they requested to be roommates.

But when he first walked into his new room, Sam instantly thought there had to be some mistake.

There were two things that tipped him off: one, Castiel wasn’t supposed to arrive until the next day but it seemed like someone had already moved in (there was a rather provocative poster of Doctor Sexy, M.D. hanging on the wall opposite of the door, gazing directly down at Sam when he entered. It was kinda creepy and made Sam feel as if he was being judged.) and two, the guy in the room definitely wasn’t Castiel.

He was short. Sure, Sam was, as a general rule, taller than most basketball players and possibly even Yao Ming, but this guy was even shorter than some of the girls Sam knew. He had light brown hair that was about the same length as Sam’s and a glint in his hazel eyes that seemed to say, “I know something you don’t.”

So, because he was smooth like that, the first thing Sam said was, “Uh... ”

The guy grinned and held up his hand. “Hi, I’m Gabriel Russell, future ruler of the world. And you are?”

Sam blinked. “Uh, Sam Winchester,” he said, shaking Gabriel’s hand. “Hey, um, this is C127, right?”


“... There must be some mistake.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow but said nothing.


A trip to the res office confirmed Sam’s suspicions. There was some mix up with names (because apparently it was so easy to confuse ‘Castiel’ with ‘Gabriel’) so Castiel got moved to the first floor and Sam got Gabriel instead. “Can’t you do something about it?” Sam pleaded. He turned to Gabriel, who started munching on a bag of Skittles that he produced out of nowhere earlier. “No offense,” he added.

“None taken.” Gabriel continued snacking on his candy, as if he was watching a movie or something.

The receptionist at the desk gave him an acidic smile. “I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. All changes are final.” Translation: we’re too lazy for this shit so suck it up, loser.

One day, this will all go into Sam’s memoir and he’s going to be the one smiling then.


Having a stranger for a roommate wasn’t exactly a bad thing—he wasn’t one of those clingy people who couldn’t imagine being apart from their friends for more than one minute—it just wasn’t how Sam envisioned his first year at college would start either. But hey, he figured that as long as Gabriel didn’t turn out to be a psychopathic serial killer, he’d be fine.

But if he kept playing Fall Out Boy (even though Sam didn’t have the same taste in music as Dean did, he prided himself in being above whiny emo bands that sung the same thing over and over again) at maximum volume and refusing to turn it down despite being asked to multiple times, Sam just might end up turning into a psychopathic serial killer himself.


Whoever said that engineer majors had it tough lied.

As Gabriel proves time and again, he has no problems juggling his school work with partying. Although Sam has yet to see him crack open a book since the beginning of the semester, let alone actually filling his shelf with, you know, books. Instead, his bookshelf is constantly filled with beer cans. Some of them look like they had been imported.

Unlike Gabriel, Sam is actually a good student. In some ways, it’s a good thing Gabriel’s out practically every night partying it up because that means Sam gets the whole room to himself to do his homework and can listen to Mountain Goats without being made fun off for liking “a band whose lead singer sounds like he’s constipating”. Screw Gabriel and his emo bands, Mountain Goats totally rules.

“Come on, Sam,” Gabriel whined on frosh week. “classes haven’t even started yet and you’re already cracking the books?”

“I like Stephen King,” replied Sam. And while Sam had nothing against frosh week, he really didn’t see the point in running around the track field half naked with his chest painted neon green while screaming like a woman going into labor.

Gabriel flopped down on the bed beside Sam, completely disregarding the concept known as ‘personal space’. Did Sam mention that his roommate was the weirdest person he’d ever met sans Castiel? “Come on,” he said, poking Sam in the ribs. “Just one drink wouldn’t hurt you. Besides, didn't Jesus, like, do shots or something at a party once? Jesus clearly had his priorities straight.”

For some reason, Gabriel found it hilarious that Sam was majoring in Pre-Law and minoring in World Religions. He claimed it was because lawyers didn’t have souls or something. Dick.

It wasn’t the first time that Sam wished he possessed superpowers like the X-Men Dean was so obsessed with during his comic book phase, such as the ability to shoot laser beams from his eyes at annoying roommates. “It was wine,” he said flatly, not because he was offended but as a sort-of-Christian he felt obligated to set the record straight. “and he didn’t drink excessively.” Not like the way you do, he silently added.

Gabriel’s smirk was absolutely infuriating. “You don’t know that.

It was all Sam could do not to punch him in the face.

The downside to Gabriel’s partying is that he usually stumbles back in somewhere around two in the morning, when Sam is already asleep.

Once, during the second month of the semester, he jerked awake at three in the morning to the sound of the door slamming, soon followed by the main lights being turned on and blinding him. He heard Gabriel say, “Oh shit, sorry, Sam!” before quickly turning the lights back off and muttering curses and apologies under his breath.

Sam would’ve appreciated it a lot more if Gabriel didn’t make such a racket while changing into his pajamas, going to the bathroom to brush his teeth (accidentally slamming the door on his way out as well), coming back just as Sam was on the edge of sleep again and carelessly shoving the mountain of junk off his bed before finally going to sleep himself.

“‘Night, Sammy,” he slurred.

Sam remembered letting out a long-suffering sigh, eventually deciding that killing his roommate, even if he pleaded the Fifth, wasn’t worth the jail time and replied, “Goodnight, Gabriel.”


“You have a nice room,” Castiel noted when he visited Sam’s room for the first time.

“Not as nice as yours.” Castiel’s roommate was some British exchange student called Crowley. Castiel claimed to dislike him but Sam would never not believe that he was probably easier to live with than Gabriel. Anyone in the world was probably easier to live with than Gabriel.

Castiel smiled benignly at him. “You’re still not switching with me.”

“Why not—”

“Baby cousin!” cried Gabriel, bursting into the room like a whirlwind of chaos. He wrapped his arms around Castiel and swung him around the room—or tried to, what, with being a borderline midget and all. “Wow, you got taller” he said when he finally let go, grinning like a hyena.

“Hello, Gabriel,” Castiel greeted.

Sam stared. “I didn’t know you two were related,” he said dumbly.

“Gabriel is my cousin from my father’s side,” Castiel answered.

Sam still couldn’t see the resemblance. Castiel, like everyone else in the Novak family, was stiff (“As a tree,” Dean mentioned fondly once), quiet, and religious. Gabriel was none of that; he was loose, loud, obnoxious, and the epitome of the word ‘blaspheme’. Sam got sexiled out of the room enough times to truly believe this. It also didn’t help that the walls were paper-thin.

“I can see why you guys were supposed to be roommates,” Gabriel teased, clapping both their shoulders at the same time. “Two nerds in a pod. Cute.”

Sam sent one last desperate look at Castiel but he simply shrugged. “I had deal with him for years,” he said. “You’d have to pay me to live with him.”

Sam almost took him up on that tempting offer.



The one thing about Gabriel that Sam really, really hates is his propensity to prank.

And not just for the usual whoopee-cushion-type pranks; oh no, Gabriel thinks going the extra mile on making other people’s lives miserable is actually a good thing.

Like during the third week of the semester when Sam woke up to an empty room. That was Sam’s first clue that something was wrong. He always woke up before Gabriel. Always.

His second clue came when he stepped out of his room and saw only girls in the hallway. “Hey, Becky,” he said to his next-door neighbor. “Do you know where Gabriel went?”

Becky stared at him as if she was setting her eyes on the sun for the first time. “Gabriel? He’s gone, Sam. So are all the guys,” she answered. Her staring was beginning to scare Sam—as were the stares he was beginning to garner from all the other girls in the vicinity.

“Um, gone?” he said. “Like, for some sort of trip that I didn’t hear about?”

“Oh no,” purred Becky, sidling up to him. “Like, all the guys in the world just disappeared and you’re the only one left.”

Sam just barely managed not to squeak like a little girl when she started groping him.

“You—You’re joking,” he gulped.

“Nope,” she chirped. “You know what we have to do now, don’t you?”

“We have to repopulate the earth!” yelled Meg from down the hall. The hallway erupted into loud cheers and whoops of agreement.

Sam stared.

Then he ran as fast as his Sasquatch legs could carry him.


Gabriel was waiting for him at the library reading the third volume of Y: The Last Man in the graphic novel section. “What’s up, Yorick?” he greeted brightly. He had the biggest, evilest smile on his face.

“You bastard,” hissed Sam. “I nearly got a heart attack when the women’s field hockey team suddenly started chasing me!”

Mrs. Peck, the librarian, sent him a venomous glare designed to kill puppies, kittens, and wither plants.

Gabriel shrugged. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He made a big show of looking at his watch. “Oh hey, don’t you have a Spanish test right about... now?”

Shit, he did.

“I will kill you,” he said, already bolting towards the doors. “Slowly and painfully!”

Quiet in the library!” Mrs. Peck screamed after him. Judging by the rage on her face, several bouquets of flowers just came to an untimely death but Sam had other things to worry about.


Much, much later, Sam would admit that Gabriel’s prank was pretty brilliant. The fact that he managed to get half the campus in on it alone wasn’t something to be scoffed at. If he hadn’t been the victim, Sam would’ve shaken his hand.

He probably would’ve eventually if Gabriel didn’t decide that it was his sole duty as Sam’s roommate to make his life a living hell from then on. The Y: The Last Man prank certainly wasn’t the last one he ever pulled on Sam but it was definitely the most memorable one. Still, that didn’t mean his other pranks didn’t constantly make Sam want to shoot something, preferably Gabriel’s face.


The less said about the time Sam had to convince the Don that he didn’t hire the stripper hiding under his bed, the better.


Their second Bonding Moment as roommates takes place in the middle of finals. It’s ten past one and Sam’s nose deep in his notes when Gabriel, who’s actually studying and not out partying for once, slams his binder shut and declares they need a break.

“Gabriel, I can’t,” Sam protests, but he doesn’t struggle too much when Gabriel drags him out of his desk and into the hallway.

“Come on, a little fresh air isn’t going to kill you.”

Gabriel leads him on a weird trail around campus until they stop in front of one of the older buildings. He takes out a set of keys from nowhere, starts picking the lock (Sam doesn’t want to know), and pushes him into the shadows.

Sam is momentarily blinded and reaches out to stable himself when he feels something warm take hold of his hand. “Gabriel?” he asks.

“I’m here,” whispers Gabriel. He starts walking and Sam is forced to follow.

Gabriel must have built in night vision or something because there’s no way he could’ve navigated his way around the building and up the stairs without tripping at least once if he didn’t. “You sure you know where you’re going?” he calls out as they make their way up yet another flight of stairs.

“Yes, now close your eyes. We’re there.”

Sam almost asks what the point is, as he can’t see anything regardless, but obeys his instructions anyway. He hears Gabriel tinkering with another lock before the sound of a door creaking open echoes through his ears. Sam is hit with a gust of December wind as Gabriel gently pulls him along. “Are we outside?’

“Yup. You can open your eyes and now. Oh, and you should probably look up.”

Sam does so and gasps. Above him is the most gorgeous sight he’s seen since coming to Stanford. The sky is clear and covered in a blanket of stars. He can actually recognize some of the constellations he often sees in Lawrence and it makes him feel a little closer to home. “Wow” is the only thing he can say.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” asks Gabriel softly at his side. Even though he’s probably seen this all before, the smile on his face is the most genuine Sam’s seen since they first met. There’s no indication of trickery afoot, just open admiration. He should smile like that more often.

“How’d you find this place?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Dunno, I remember I wanted to see the stars really badly one night,” he pauses. “I come here sometimes when I just want to think, get away from the rest of the world.”

This is a side of Gabriel Sam has never seen before. He often thought Gabriel was a social butterfly who thrived on attention. It never occurred to him that Gabriel needed an escape from the hustle and bustle constantly surrounding him sometimes.

“I like it,” says Sam, and he means it.

They stay on the roof for a long time, alternating between chatting about inane things and just sitting in companionable silence with nothing but each other and the stars for company.


Gabriel isn’t a bad person, per se, it’s just Sam he’s horrible to.

Sam doesn’t really get it. He’s a pretty likable person, so he doesn’t get what it is about him that seems to compel Gabriel to steal the varsity baseball team’s ball pitcher and modify it so it would fling pies at his face at twenty miles per hour.

So when he walks in the room one day with Sarah (who may or may not be his girlfriend one day—he’s kind of hoping for the former), having momentarily forgotten about his roommate’s hobby of embarrassing him as many times a day as possible, and doesn’t get assaulted by pies or strippers or even something as mundane as a pineapple, he’s surprised.

Gabriel is a perfect gentleman actually, which is something Sam would never have associated with his roommate until that day. He looks up from his laptop when Sam opens the door, looks from him to Sarah (sizing her up, almost), and says, “Hi.” He actually stands up to shake her hand. “I’m Gabriel, Sam’s roommate.”

The thing about Gabriel is, he’s lazy. Sometimes when it gets too dark in the room, he would actually ask Sam to turn on his own desk light for him even though the switch is well within arms’ reach. Sam usually does it to shut him up.

Sarah grins and shakes his hand. “Yeah, I figured. I’m Sarah, Sam’s friend.”

Sam almost has an aneurysm when Gabriel still doesn’t do anything. It’s kind of freaky.

Later, after Sarah leaves, Sam can only stare in shock as Gabriel waves goodbye and sits back down on his desk like nothing happened. “I like her,” he says simply.

It takes a moment for Sam to snap out of it. “Um, yeah. I like her, too,” he says. “I kind of want to ask her out,” he admits, before realizing what he’s saying. This is Gabriel, for crying out loud. He’d probably Facebook this in the middle of the night after Sam’s gone to bed and ruin his chances of a love life forever and ever. So why the hell is he telling Gabriel this?

“Cool. I’ll let you borrow my cologne if you want.” Gabriel’s voice is strange, kind of strangled but mostly devoid of emotion.

Sam blinks. “Um, thanks?”

He goes to bed that night still in a daze. He’s still not entirely sure what just happened.


He and Sarah last for about two months before they realize they’re much better as friends than they are as a couple.

Gabriel walks around the rest of the day of the break up wearing a grin that vaguely resembles that of a Cheshire cat.


After getting a bucket of paint dumped on him, Sam can’t take it anymore. He’s this close to breaking something short called ‘Gabriel’.

He turns to Dean for help, because even though he’s eighteen and no longer a little kid, a part of him still desperately holds on to his three year old self’s belief that his older brother is Hercules and can fix anything.

After his nearly twenty minute long rant about how much Gabriel annoys him, Sam waits with bated breath for Dean’s response. “Dude, I think your roommate has a crush on you,” Dean’s image on the computer finally says, and he sounds serious.

Sam’s brain just stops functioning right there. That definitely wasn’t what he was expecting his brother to say. “Um, sorry?”

Gabriel’s pulling your pigtails,” continues Dean, as if there’s nothing wrong with what he just said. “it’s kinda cute.”

If Sam could, he would totally reach through his laptop screen right now to wipe the annoying smirk out of Dean’s face. Seriously, how did he end up with the most unsupportive older brother in the world? “No way, Gabriel doesn’t like me.”

Dean shakes his head slowly. “Uh, no, I’m pretty sure he does. From what you’ve told me, he’s been trying to get your attention since he first laid eyes on your ass and it’s working.”

Sam barks out a laugh. “Oh, he’s got my attention alright, but it’s not the kind he was hoping for.”

Dean raises his eyebrow in a “go on” gesture.

It’s like once Sam’s opened his mouth he can’t stop. Everything just comes tumbling out and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He’s not even sure he wants to, having bottled everything up for so long that he needs an outlet, any outlet, right now. “He’s the most insensitive jerk in the world! If he really liked me, he could—oh, I don’t know—maybe act like it? I mean, I’m not expecting flowers or a confession of undying love or anything like that, but being pelted in the face with pie isn’t the way to do it.”

Damn, what a waste of good pie.”

“Dean! Focus!”

“Sorry, go on, Princess Sammy.”

“I just—what can he possibly hope to accomplish by being an asshole? Does he enjoy making people hate him?”

You hate him?

Sam snorts. “What do you think? If I could, I’d have switched rooms a long time ago. You know, I’ll be so happy when the year’s finally over because that means I won’t have to see his face again—”

Sam cuts himself off at a ‘thud!’ from the door. It’s a familiar sound he’s been hearing all year. It’s the sound Gabriel’s messenger bag makes when he drops it on the floor in the middle of their room and causes Sam to trip over it more times than he can count.

Oh, shit.

Standing frozen at the door is Gabriel himself, staring at Sam with a completely blank look on his face. His eyes don’t hide anything from Sam, though; there’s something that looks like heartbreak in them.

Sam? You okay?

But Dean’s voice is faraway to Sam and he barely hears it. There’s nothing but him and Gabriel now.

Gabriel breaks the silence with a swallow. “Okay,” he says, his voice a little shaky. Then he leaves.

Sam half gets up from his chair with the full intent to stop him and apologize, but a small, ugly voice at the back of his head reminds him that this is Gabriel’s fault. Not his. He did nothing wrong except tell the truth.

That doesn’t make it sting any less.


Gabriel literally doesn’t come back to the room for the following few days. During that time, Sam goes crazy with worry. It’s not that he’s afraid that Gabriel can’t take care of himself (despite his size, he’s not someone to be underestimated) but he doesn’t know where they are—as roommates, as friends—or what’s going through Gabriel’s head. The Winchester gene of stubbornness in him keeps him from actively seeking Gabriel out during those days.

It’s not his fault that Gabriel brought this on himself. Maybe if he’d acted like a normal human being—

Oh, who’s he kidding? Gabriel isn’t normal. He’s got his own brand of otherworldly charm that even Sam’s fallen prey to. He’s funny, can make Sam laugh like no one else can, and has this sixth sense about him. He has no problem with being an annoying little fucker most of the time but he knows when to keep to himself at times when Sam isn’t in the mood. Gabriel’s surprised him a few times by leaving a cup of coffee or tea, and sometimes even a snack on his desk when he knows Sam could really use it.

A small part of him still can’t forgive Gabriel for his pranks but in a way, he can understand. After all, it’s Gabriel. He probably didn’t see any harm in them and he certainly didn’t pull them on Sam with the intention of hurting him.

So yeah, maybe things between them aren’t perfect but that sure as hell won’t stop Sam from fixing it.


“We could all see it, you know,” says Crowley, not looking up from his battered copy of the Divine Comedy. “his epic unrequited love for you, I mean.”

It took a while but eventually word got to Sam that Gabriel had been hiding out in Castiel’s room. Sam was kinda impressed that they managed to keep him out of the loop for so long because Castiel was the kind of person who couldn’t keep a secret to save his life.

Sam groans and buries his face in his hands. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Crowley confirms.

“How am I only learning about it now?”

“Because you’re as blind as a bat?” Crowley offers, finally closing his book to look at Sam. At Sam’s glare he goes on, “His eyes light up whenever you walk into the room. Are you seriously telling me you never saw it?”

Well, no. Sam’s seen it but he always figured it was just Gabriel planning something sneaky.

Before he can reply the door opens and the familiar pitter-patter of feet reach Sam’s ears. “Honey, I’m ho—” Gabriel stops and stares at Sam, his face reddening. “Nevermind,” he mutters, already turning away.

But Sam’s prepared. He shoots off of Castiel’s bed like a rocket and grabs Gabriel’s arm, pulling him into the room. “Wait, Gabriel.”

He tenses but still doesn’t look up at Sam. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the dorm’s ugly carpet floor. “for being a jerk. I promise I won’t bother you anymore.”

Sam gulps. “No, I... Gabriel—” Sam stops thinking. He tips Gabriel’s chin up and before his roommate (ex-roommate) can protest, he’s surging forward and pressing his lips against Gabriel’s. Gabriel freezes and it takes some coaxing on Sam’s part to get him to part his lips and rub his tongue along the edge of his mouth. Gabriel tastes like a mix of strawberry and chocolate and Sam thinks, yeah, this is something he could get addicted to.

They pull apart eventually, both of them breathing hard like they’d just run a marathon. Gabriel’s staring at Sam like he’s never seen him before. “What—”

“I like you,” says Sam. “I... I didn’t know and I wish I did because then we wouldn’t be here and... yeah,” he finishes lamely. But at least he got his words out, as incoherent as they were. Now it’s Gabriel’s turn.

Gabriel blushes and looks so shell shocked it’s almost unnatural. Gabriel never gets caught off guard. “I thought you were as straight as an arrow,” he says carefully.

“... I thought so, too,” admits Sam. He’s surprisingly okay with this new development of his sexuality.

Gabriel just looks at him. “Sam, I can’t... ” he swallows. “I know you hate me so this—please don’t.”

“What?” Now Sam’s officially confused.

“Maybe I deserve it,” Gabriel continues, his voice soft and broken. “I know you’re mad and if you want to get back at me, I understand, but please don’t do this. Please don’t play with me like this. I’ll move out of your room permanently, I’ll run around campus in a tutu and put it up on YouTube, I’ll even leave Stanford if you want me to, but don’t do this. Don’t pretend you have feelings for me, too.”

Sam just stares at him. “You really think I’d do that?” he finally asks, because he’s kind of offended Gabriel would think he’s that cold-hearted.

Gabriel actually looks like he’s considering it. “Well, no,” he says, “but... I wouldn’t be surprised.”

Sam leans down to kiss him again, this time deeper and longer. He tries to put everything he has into the kiss, convey all his emotions in that one little action, both the positive and the negative. When he pulls away, Gabriel’s flushed. “I like you,” he says again, more firmly. “And... I’m not playing with you. I want this to go somewhere if... if you want it to. Preferably with less strippers or pies being pelted at my face”

Gabriel at least has the decency to look embarrassed about that. “Sorry about that,” he says sheepishly, “and I do—want a relationship, I mean. I just—”

“You’re both idiots,” says Crowley from the opposite side of the room. Sam turns around, having forgotten about the quirky British exchange student, and catches Crowley with his nose buried in his book again, not even bothering to look up to watch the drama unfold. “You already kissed and made up. What else are you waiting for? The sky to open and a heavenly chorus to start singing ‘Hallelujah’?”

Sam has to admit that Crowley has a point. He takes Gabriel’s hand, threading their fingers together. “Let’s go home.”

“It’s just a room,” Gabriel points out, but he’s smiling and the sight does things to Sam, like making his heart do flip flops.

“Don’t ruin the moment.” He leans down to kiss Gabriel again.