Archive of Our Own ^beta

Man, spring was a blast. Finally having some sun and a break from the lower temperatures was the best. You might not be excited for summer, way too hot, but spring was really nice! Pretty flowers, gentle rains, the return of the migratory animals, lilacs. And best of all; your allergies.

Being sick without actually being sick was the absolute BEST. Aha, just kidding it blows. You need to chug pills like they’re candy just to function, getting rest with some soup won’t help like when you’re sick and to top it all off, everyone thinks you’re gross for like two months and there’s nothing you can do about it. Your social anxiety has never been better.

So it went without saying that you were a bit nervous when you rolled up to the church for your work planting new flowers. If you weren’t already a mucus mess, and you were, then it was sure to get even worse when you went outside and really got into it.

Here’s to hoping your crush wouldn’t jump back 20 feet at your Claritinless ass because of COURSE this had to be the day you ran out of antihistamines.

You poked your head in the door and there was no one to be seen. Guess he must already be in the back? Upon getting to the garden you gently closed the door, not wanting the warm air inside to escape, and you saw him. Man looked absolutely rural. Gone was the normal priest get up he wore and here was a green flannel wearing dude with dad jeans and a messy bun. What could possibly be cuter?

“Hey Gabriel, you look different today.”

This man absolutely BEAMED when he saw you, the widest grin lighting up his face as he tossed his work gloves off to come say hi.

“Good morning, dearest.” He said as he looked you up and down. Couldn’t really blame him cuz you’d done the same to him a moment ago but his directness about checking you out made you blush a bit. His smile lowered to a smirk and you knew; the teasing was about to begin.

"It seems you're forgetting something," he said, taking a step forward. You took one back without thinking.

"Yeah? What's that?" You asked nervously which only seemed to make him smile wider. He took another step forward and you one back.

"You really don't know? I'm surprised you don't know what day it is."

"Am I supposed to?"

Your back hit the door as you took another step back. He had you right where he wanted you. His right arm rested against the door right above your head so he could lean into you.

"Hm, no. I suppose you don’t ‘have’ to know. I’m fine with making your ignorance my bliss.”

“What the heck is that supposed t-” Your words were cut off as Gabriel pinched both of your cheeks. You burned in embarrassment and tried to pull away, only for him to pinch more of your face. It was cute and playful. If you felt a bit better you might've liked it but of course; when he pinched your nose you just had to sneeze.

If God was real you'd beg him to kill you now.

You looked from the man to his hand that you'd just scandalized with your germs and back up to him. He looked like he was about to pop.

"You sneeze like a kitten!" He huffed, unable to hold on to his laugh anymore. You groaned and hid your face in your hands.

"Please God just put me out of my misery. You can bury me in the garden and I'll help the flowers grow, or something."

"Nonsense," the holy man said when he managed to collect himself. "Burying you under the flowers would be too obvious. If I wanted to get away with you I'd have to be a little craftier than that. Or I could just;" you didn't have time to object. He'd already lowered himself into a good lifting position before you could say a peep.

One arm of his wrapped around your middle and the other settled behind your knees as he easily lifted you up into his arms.

“Are we going somewhere?” You asked as he kicked the door to the church open.

“I’m doing away with you, of course. You asked me so nicely, I could hardly call myself a man if I couldn't fill a request like that." If the comment didn't kill you the wink he gave after it certainly did.

Looks like you were going to die in his room, you thought as he kicked this door open too.

"Finally, now I can be smothered the way I've always dreamed of." He snorted as he tossed you on the bed.

"I hope one of your last wishes includes soup because that's what you're getting. It might not be the best but I was already making some and you might as well have a last meal."

You glanced up from where you'd belly flopped to see the priest stirring a small pot on a little cook stove he'd bought. It smelled pretty good and you were kind of excited to try some. Your sore throat especially.

He soon dished it out, handing you a bigger bowl than he got. You didn't question him but instead showed gratitude by taking a big bite.

"Is this potato soup?"

"It is indeed. Does that give you any more hints about what today is, my dear?"

Potatoes and pinching, huh? God damn your ADHD for making you forget another day.

"Looks like I forgot Saint Patrick's day."

"Ding ding ding. And while the man was never technically canonized as a Saint, the church still celebrates and so shall I." He took a bite of soup himself. You both ate in silence until the bowls were empty, the dish and utensil being taken when you were done.

Gabriel sat back down after he put the dishes away, pulling you over so you could rest your head in his lap. You were full, sleepy and sick feeling so you didn't mind.

"Care for a bedtime story while you rest?"

You nodded and he began.

"Our Saint Patrick was born around the year 386 AD to a family in England. Indeed; he wasn't Irish. Instead he went to Ireland when he was 16- well, 'went' is a generous word. He was kidnapped."

You nearly sat up but Gabriel pushed you gently back down.

"He lived there for six years, living and working as a Shepherd. Alone more often than not, he relied on scripture to keep him company. He escaped after those six years but he wasn’t gone forever. He came back to the Emerald Isle to spread the word of Christianity and kept it up until he died on, naturally, March 17th.”

“So that’s it? No snake wrangling, no leprechaun hunting?” You didn’t object when he dropped a pillow on your head. Guess you kinda deserved that.

“Unfortunately no. Those things were just the product of excited storytelling, though that’s not to say they aren’t interesting stories. Stories so interesting in fact that’s what made today a feast day, though it’s also used as an excuse to take a break from Lent.”

“So in essence people use the death of a Catholic almost Saint as an excuse to get hammered for a day during the period they aren’t allowed to get hammered?”

“To put it simply; yes.”
“That tracks.”

“I suppose it does ‘track’. Might be one of the few days a year I indulge as well.”

You faked a gasp. “No, you would never. You’re too perfect to ever do something a mortal might.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint but despite my devilish good looks I’m no angel. Even I enjoy the occasional four bottles of wine in a night.”

You straight up balked. There was no WAY this man could drink that much. There was no way this paragon of straight laced living could absolutely drink you and your whole family under the table. Seems he found your shock amusing, leaning forward to give you a peck on the nose.

“Close your mouth dear, you’ll catch flies.”

Oh, if only you could. “Prove it. I bet there’s no way you could even drink half that much.”

He quirked a brow at your challenge. “And what do I get if I manage to drink at least two bottles? There’s no way I’d agree to a challenge without a prize.”

You thought about it for a second and came up a bit short. Didn’t exactly plan to come bearing gifts so there wasn’t much to choose from on you or in your bag. “Hmm, if you win you can choose what you want as a prize and I can give it to you later if it isn’t something I have on me. Deal?”

He gave your hand a good shake. It was a deal.

The priest pulled a few bottles from under his bed in a move that already had you looking sideways at him in a way he promptly ignored. “Are you going to be joining me or would you like to watch? Entirely up to you.” You shook your head and he nodded. It was nice that he was respectful of your choices.

The cork made a small ‘pop’ as he unscrewed it from the bottle. He passed it to you so you could inspect it, which you did. 15% alcohol content and a nice deep red told you it was a quality bottle. That this man was about to chug.

“You can time me if you want. I’m shooting for a minute or less.”

“Please don’t do that unless you wanna go to the hospital.”

“Fine, fine; 30 seconds.”

You objected as he began to chug the bottle like a college frat pledge. Man did not come up for air once until the bottle was empty, which he proved by holding it upside down over his head. You were terrified.

“Jesus fuck, Gabriel What the hell was that??”

“I know, I’m sorry. That was 49 seconds instead of under 30. Looks like I’m losing my touch a bit.”

“That is not what I meant and you know it!” You took the other bottle from him and sat the man down on the edge of the bed. He seemed to be just fine, letting you do with him what you will, no effects of the alcohol kicking in. He just kept smiling up at you the way he did when he waited for you to speak, arms coming up to wrap around your waist to keep you close.

You watched him for a while, and he you, only to see no change. He’d chugged a bottle of wine in under a minute like it was water. “What the hell are you that you can drink that much and not get put on your ass?”

“I’m yours, of course~”

Damn him for being smooth.

"Okay fine, you're mine and that means I have to take care of you. Stay here while I go get you a glass of water." He gave you a half hearted salute and you quickly left with the dishes from the soup.

The faster you got to the kitchen the faster you could get back to that lunatic, you reasoned as you nearly ran down the church's hall toward their small kitchen area. You'd be lucky if you didn't have to call 911 for alcohol poisoning. The hell was he trying to do, impress you? You lit up a bit at the obvious thought. He would do something like that.

You rushed back with a large glass of water only to find the man had poured himself a glass. An entire bottle's worth of a glass. He'd downed the second bottle.

"Didn't go down as fast as the first but I can assure you it was smoother. Mixed blends always seem to go better than merlots, at least to me."

"Oh my Goddd, why would you do that?!"

"So that I can claim my prize and live up to that bargain. There isn't a deal I make that I don't win, dear."

You couldn't tell whether you wanted to snack yourself or him more.

"I choose you, by the way.”

“Excuse me?”

“My prize; I choose you.”

He snagged you by the shoulders and pulled you down with him. You landed on his chest, something he didn't seem to mind. "You can stay there if you'd like or you can be the little spoon. Whichever you prefer."

"Let's get you on your side, kay?" God forbid anything happened at least he wouldn't choke this way. The priest obliged, rolling to one side and settling an arm across your middle, burying his face in your hair.

"Care for a nap? We might both feel better when we wake up." It did sound like a nice idea. Between your allergies and this man's insane alcohol tolerance, an easy evening sounded great.

"As long as you promise not to get thirsty and down another bottle while I'm out." He chuckled and moved closer to give your neck a kiss goodnight and you did your best to act like it wasn't a big deal. At least he couldn't see your face like this.

"Good night, my dearest. Happy Saint Patrick's day."

"Good night Gabriel. You're fucking insane."

"Only for you, dear. Only for you."