Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam peers around the corner, watching a horde of other students rush out of the building. He’s way too on edge to consider pushing through it, so he presses himself against the wall behind him and starts counting in his head again.

He likes the last day of school as much as anybody, but damn if it isn’t overstimulating. He almost forgot what that was like after so many nights holed up in the back of the library.

He misses it. But not this kind - the kind that comes from screaming classic rock over the roar of an engine. He misses home.

Sam has counted to thirty before he realizes there’s no more rushing footsteps or shouting. This time, he dares to step out of his hiding spot, and he almost slumps with relief seeing that the crowd is gone. Adjusting his bag on his shoulder, he checks his watch for probably the hundredth time in the past hour - sue him, it’s a nervous tic - and makes his way to the door, pushing it open and stepping into the early hours of the morning.

There’s a few students left on the quad, talking and laughing - probably drunk, still, if last night’s party is any indication. Sam nods at two of them waving and whistling at him as he walks down the stairs and tries not to trip on his small rolling suitcase, mustering an awkward smile. Ragers were never his thing.

On his way to the parking lot, he comes across one of the groundskeepers fighting some streamers and deflated balloons on the ground with a rake, surrounded by even more piles of the stuff. It’s the one who looks strangely like his Uncle Bobby, which is only part of the reason Sam backtracks and makes a detour, grabbing as much as he can even if it’ll get his clothes dirty. “Hold on, Jim, let me help.”

Jim slumps down, propping his elbow on his rake. “Gee, thanks, Sam. If I told you how long we’ve been out here-“

“I know, I know.” Sam gives him an understanding smile, dumping the armful he carries into the bin. “College, huh?”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice.”

Sam chuckles, dusting off his shirt - thankfully it actually looks clean. He pats his hands on his jeans and asks, “Is there anything else I can do?”

“You can go enjoy your summer,” Jim says, pointing off toward the parking lot. “We’ve got it from here. It’s our job, after all.”

“If you say so.” Sam runs a hand over his hair with a shrug and moves to keep walking, pulling the suitcase along with him. “See you next semester.”

“Right back at ya!”

Sam chuckles under his breath as he catches Jim muttering, “Top school in California, my ass…”

Shaking his head, Sam goes down another short set of stairs and hops over the pavement, following the lines on the road into the parking lot. He doesn’t have to look for long before he spots a familiar black Chevy, along with the man leaning against it. “Dean!”

“There he is!” Dean pumps a fist. “Long time no see, Sammy.”

Sam practically teleports in front of him, latching on to the back of his brother’s jacket in a tight hug. Really, it’s only been a few months since they last saw each other, but he still says, muffled against Dean’s shoulder, “I missed you so much.”

“Yeah, I missed you, too. Don’t get all sappy on me.” Dean pats his back and pulls away, but Sam doesn’t miss the hand on his shoulder keeping him in place. He bites back a smile as Dean gives him a once-over, like always, just to be safe. A couple years ago he would’ve shrugged it off, but he’s learned to appreciate the little things.

When Dean’s satisfied, he nods to himself, then he cranes his neck in what Sam knows has to be an exaggeration. “Did you get even taller? What’d they feed you, the other freshmen?”

Sam laughs, finally pulling his brother’s hand off his shoulder. “Shut up, jerk.”

“Only ‘cause you asked nicely. Bitch.”

They share a big smile, then Dean nudges Sam’s arm. “So you’re one step closer to bein’ a big-shot lawyer.”

“Yeah, it - it hasn’t really sunk in yet.”

“Give it time. Least that’s what Cas always says.”

“Yeah, the guy has the patience of a monk.” Sam shrugs, tugging his bag back on when it threatens to slip off his shoulder. “I mean, he has to in order to put up with you.”

He ducks out of the range of Dean’s swing and laughs. “Still got it!”

Dean makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he can’t hide his smile, that proud little thing that always gives Sam the warm and fuzzies. He says, “Yeah, he’d probably agree with you. Why don’t you ask him?”

“Wait, is he here-?”

“Hello, Sam.”

To Sam’s credit, he only startles a little - he’s gotten much better over the years. He turns and says, “Hey, Cas.”

Castiel smiles, returning the hug he gets. Like Dean, he gives Sam a once-over, but it’s nowhere near as calculating. “You look good.”

“Thanks! Finals have me dead in my feet, but I-I’m holding it together.”

“We’re very proud of you.”

“What he said,” Dean calls out, and Sam grins, even as his heart skips a beat. “Thanks, guys. Really.”

He steps back to look between his brother and hopefully-someday-brother-in-law. “So this is the welcome wagon, then?”

He knows when the two of them wince at each other that he’s about to eat those words. Castiel says, “Well, you see-“

A loud, shrill - but honestly impressive - imitation of a horn rings through the air. Sam holds his right ear, looking in that direction to see another familiar face standing on one of the concrete bricks surrounding the parking lot. “Introducing soon-to-be Counselor Sam Winchester!”

Sam sighs, snapping his fingers next to his ear before dropping his hand. “Hi, Gabriel.”

Castiel’s least douchey, but much more annoying older brother raises his arms with a big grin. “Radiant as ever, Samsquatch! How would you rate my performance, on a scale of ‘awesome’ to ‘even more awesome’?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Touchy. Some things never change.”

Castiel shoots Sam an apologetic look and says, “Gabriel, get down before you break something.”

“Oh, you know me, Cassie! I’m as elastic as a rubber band!” Gabriel hops onto the ground, and to his credit, he doesn’t even stumble - but it’s only a foot, so the bar really isn’t too high. “It’s Anna you’ve gotta watch out for. She bruises like a peach.”

“Good thing we have Raphael, then,” Castiel says, deadpan. “Dad must be thrilled that medical school isn’t going to waste.”

“Yeppers! But speaking of school-“ Gabriel twirls around, and in a blink, he’s in front of Sam. It’s really a testament to Sam’s self-control that he doesn’t deck the guy - again. “Congrats on passing the first semester! Only twelve more to go!”

“It’s just three, Gabriel. Seven for my JD.”

“Ah, who’s counting?” Gabriel waves it off, and Sam yelps as he hooks an arm around his middle, pulling him to his level. “You, my friend, deserve a night on the town! I know a couple ladies who would be very interested in your company.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Sam pointedly shrugs him off, taking a side-step away. “There was a massive dorm party last night. I think I’ve had my fill.”

“Your loss. But I wasn’t invited for nothing.”

“You weren’t invited at all,” Dean chimes in, leaning against the Impala again. “You hitched a ride when I went to pick up Cas. I’ll be digging candy wrappers outta Baby for weeks.”

“Semantics, Dean-o.” Again, Gabriel waves it off. He tells Sam, “So maybe I’m doing this Wedding Crashers style. That’s not the point. No, the point is that you survived a whole year on nothing but coffee, your wits and a dream. A weaker man would’ve cut his losses months ago, but you stuck it out and you’re ready to do it all over again. Twice! Maybe more!”

He raises his arms again and knocks on the roof of the next car over. “Knock on wood, or whatever this rust-bucket is made of, but that deserves some recognition. And I mean more than just a couple bro-hugs in a parking lot.”

Sam blinks, realizing that was strangely profound. Looking over at Castiel, he asks, “Are we sure this is your brother?”

“Sometimes I can’t believe we’re related, but yes.”

“…Huh.” Sam nods slowly and turns back to Gabriel, still standing there all fierce like he’s got something to prove. Sam pointedly ignores the heat on his face as he runs a hand through his hair. “I-I appreciate that, Gabriel, I do.”

“At least someone recognizes my brilliance.”

Sam actually chuckles, and for once, Gabriel’s cocky grin isn’t as insufferable. Acknowledging that while he can - because no doubt, Gabriel will eventually end up doing something that reminds him how he can get away with murder - Sam says, “I guess a real break couldn’t hurt. Like I told Cas, finals week is a killer.”

“That settles it, then.” Gabriel claps his hands together, spinning on his heels to face Dean and Castiel. “Gentlemen, take notes. This is how you barter.”

Castiel rolls his eyes, and Dean thwacks his temple. He says, “Just tell us where we’re headed.”

“I am so glad you asked. Drum-roll!” Gabriel drums lightly on the roof of that same car from earlier and throws his arms up. “We’re goin’ to Vegas!”

“Vegas?” Sam echoes incredulously. 

“You heard that right, Samwise! Picture it: slot machines as far as the eye can see, an endless bar of only the best brews man has created. Clearly the honeys aren’t to your liking, but if you don’t want anyone climbing Mount Everest during this shin-dig, that’s your business. More for me!”

Sam feels himself blush again at the ‘Mount Everest’ comment. He quickly shakes it off and says, “Gabriel, I’m a law student. That’s kind of the opposite of Vegas’s whole scene.”

“And that’s the kicker!” Gabriel slaps his thigh and points. “You’re more strait-laced than the youth group leader back in Sunday school. You gotta live a little! Grab life by the horns! Get wasted and forget your own name! It’s like a rite of passage, everybody’s gotta do it once.”

He gestures to Castiel. “Cas did.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

“I’m sorry, are either of you gonna help, or do I have to do everything around here?”

Dean sighs, rubbing his temple with sincere ‘God, give me strength’ energy. Looking up at Sam, he shrugs and says, “I-I mean…we could hustle some pool. Blackjack. Like old times.”

“That was always your thing, Dean.”

“No, the sweet-talk was my thing. You’re better with numbers and all that.”

Sam gives a half-nod because he figures that’s a good enough point. He looks at Castiel next. “You have anything?”

“Not exactly. But I do think the sentiment is important.” Castiel looks at Gabriel pointedly through the corner of his eye. “As…half-cocked as Gabriel’s ideas always are…what we all want is to celebrate you, Sam. However that happens, it’s your choice.”

“Very poetic, Cassie-“

“Shut up.”

Sam scoffs out a laugh, taking a second to think everything over. He looks between all the others until his eyes land on Gabriel. “Promise we won’t get arrested.”

“I mean, you could put your lawyering skills to good use-“

Sam glares - with a little less heat than usual, maybe - and Gabriel raises his hands. “Message received. I’ll keep everything above-board.”

Waiting a beat longer to make sure he means it, Sam nods. “Okay. Then let’s hit the road.”

Gabriel cheers, throwing his arms up. “Vegas, baby!”

Sam rolls his eyes, the annoyance already starting to seep in again. He watches Gabriel and Castiel hop in the back of the Impala before Dean waves him over. “C’mon, Sammy, you can leave your stuff in the trunk.”

Sam grabs his rolling suitcase and follows him around to the trunk, watching Dean pop it open before tossing his duffel-bag inside. Dean helps with the suitcase, and just as he moves to shut the trunk, Sam asks, “Dean?”

His brother pauses and looks at him. “Yeah?”

“Am I gonna regret this?”

“Probably.” Dean shrugs and closes the trunk. “But least you can do is have fun and look good. Use those puppy eyes to your advantage.”

Sam laughs as he claps him on the arm. “You hate my puppy eyes!”

“I’m a weak man. Hop in.”

They circle around to opposite ends of the Impala, matching each other step for step in a way that Sam can’t help but smile about. He ducks into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind him.

In the back, meanwhile, Gabriel shakes Castiel’s shoulder. “Cas, play I Spy with me.”

“No.”

“Come on! You never were any fun on road-trips.”

“Gabriel, we aren’t even driving yet.”

“Yeah, but I’m bored!”

“You always are.”

“I’m not sure what point you think you’re making.”

Dean settles into the front seat, gripping the wheel like a lifeline. He mutters something under his breath that’s probably offensive and says, “Sam, can you shut him up so I don’t crash my car?”

Sam peers into the rear-view mirror at Gabriel, waiting with bated breath. He sighs and tells his brother, “Sure.”

Gabriel lets out a ‘woop’ just as they start driving. “You’re the best, Samsquatch! I’ll go first, make it easy for you. I spy with my little eye…”

Sam rests his head against the window, trying to keep Dean’s words about having fun in mind while also resigning himself to who knows how many hours of this.

How long does it take to get from California to Nevada, anyway?

Chapter Text

According to the Internet and Dean’s internal compass, a trip from Cali to Nevada is nine-and-a-half hours. 

It’s only been four hours so far, and Sam has half-heartedly followed along with just about every road-trip game someone could think of. He did manage to get in a short nap, until Bon Jovi started screaming about being shot through the heart and his head damn near hit the roof. Now he sits slumped against the window, watching the morning melt into afternoon and trying to ignore the chaos from the backseat.

“All I’m saying is I think they’re a pretty great band.”

“Please name even one of their songs. Apart from the obvious.”

“Sole Survivor. I actually snuck that one into Mike’s gym playlist - pfft! You should’ve seen his face!”

Looking at Sam through the corner of his eye, Dean mutters, “The hell are they even talking about?”

Sam lifts his head just enough to shrug. “Asia, I think?”

“That one band from the ‘80s?”

“Well, I’m gonna guess it’s not the continent.”

“Hmmph. Hey,” Dean whistles, glancing at the rear-view. “You guys know the rules in my car.”

“Oh, relax, Dean-o,” Gabriel says. “No one’s trying to intercept your playlist. This is just a friendly discussion between brothers.”

“‘Discussion’ implies that I want any part of this-“

“Shush, Cassie! Asia was a staple of dance rock, a paragon of its time, and I’m tired of pretending it’s not.”

Sam looks at Gabriel in the mirror and asks, “Did you just invent a genre of music?”

“Yep! You’re welcome to bask in my genius, entrance is free for successful law students.”

It’s another rare moment where Sam actually chuckles as his head falls back on the window - he’ll blame it on the fact he’s still tired. “‘Successful’ is a strong word. It still feels like I just started college.”

“We were all there once, Samwise. You’ll get used to it.”

“Great, sounds like we’ve all settled our differences,” Dean chimes back in. “In that case, anybody else hungry?”

In the mirror, Castiel makes a so-so gesture, while Gabriel shrugs. “I could eat.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam says. He bites his tongue, knowing this next part will trigger Dean’s ‘mother hen’ mode, but he’s never been able to hide it for long anyway, so he adds, “I actually missed breakfast.”

Seeing Dean’s dirty look even with his eyes still half-on the road, he quickly adds, “The cafeteria was a total mess after the party. And I couldn’t even try to grab anything before they had already dismissed us.”

Dean makes a disappointed noise and drums his fingers on the wheel. “I’m ordering for you, then. We’ll stop at the next diner.”

Sam moves to protest, but another pointed look silences him. He waits a beat before asking, “At least let it be healthy?”

“Yeah, yeah, you can have all the rabbit food you want. Long as you eat something.”

Sam smiles, because he might hate being the cause of it, but he does appreciate Dean’s concern. He knows better than anyone - except maybe Castiel - how food is his brother’s love language.

As it turns out, the nearest diner is only a few miles up ahead, a little retro place that gives Sam all kinds of nostalgia. Leaving the Impala outside - where Dean can still see it, of course - they head in and take up a booth, Dean and Castiel on one side and Sam and Gabriel on the other because Gabriel insisted on the ‘lovebirds’ staying together. This, of course, leads to some awkward shuffling thanks to their height difference, and they end up with their thighs pressed together no matter what.

Gabriel being, well, Gabriel, he doesn’t seem to care, even squished into the corner as he really is; He just points out the birds that fly past the window to Castiel, who responds as plainly as ever. But while Dean waves over a waitress, Sam keeps his eyes on the table and tries to ignore the burn on his face again. 

He tells himself it would be worse if they were on different sides. Then, again with Gabriel being Gabriel, he would probably try to play footsie.

Luckily the waitress comes quick, and Dean orders pancakes for everybody. While they wait, Sam catches Dean up on his last few days at school - which were pretty uneventful, all things considered - and Castiel and Gabriel do some more bird-watching. At some point, Gabriel asks, “Did you know there’s a bird called the blue tit?”

Sam can’t be surprised when Dean stifles a snort. Meanwhile, Castiel says, “Yes, Gabriel, from the first dozen times you’ve told me.”

“Just doin’ my part, baby brother.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, ‘cause being related to me is such a bad thing. I’m wounded.” Gabriel, ever dramatic, holds a hand to his heart. “Stab me and it would hurt less.”

It’s Sam’s turn to stifle a laugh when Castiel responds, “Don’t tempt me.”

Gabriel gasps, slapping his other hand over the first. “I am so telling Dad!”

Lightly pinching his nose, Sam chimes in, “Girls, you’re both pretty. Now can you tone it down a notch before they kick us out?”

Castiel just looks confused, but Dean guffaws and slaps the edge of the table. “Attaboy, Sammy! You learned from the best.”

Gabriel gives a mock-bow, as much as he can from that corner. “Thank you kindly, Samsquatch. Everyone knows Cas and I got all the good looks on the family.”

Sam can’t help himself, and he tips his head in a shrug. “Well-“

He laughs at Gabriel’s offended squawk, dropping his head in his hand. He brushes his hair back and looks up as Gabriel says sternly, even if he’s clearly trying not to smile, “Sleep with one eye open tonight, Winchester.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“I am never gonna understand you two,” Dean says, shaking his head. Then he points out something in the distance. “Grub’s up!”

The waitress comes back over wheeling a cart of food. She passes each of them a plate of pancakes, and Gabriel is already swiping the maple syrup off the table before she’s even left. “Dibs!”

From experience, Sam is sure to tell the waitress, “We might need seconds.”

“We’ll let you know,” Dean adds, and the waitress nods and walks away, calling out, “Enjoy!”

While they eat, they talk, because staying quiet would just be weird. Gabriel says, still drowning his pancakes in syrup, “I just can’t believe you guys haven’t been to Vegas. Weren’t you living out of suitcases and motels as kids?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sam says, sharing a look with Dean. “Dad moved us around a lot. We’ve visited every state at least once.”

“Nevada included,” Dean adds. “But we swore to never talk about Reno.”

Sam mimes zipping his lip and throwing out the key. “To the grave.”

Dean gives him a fist-bump. “To the grave.”

Head propped in his hand, Castiel says, stabbing at his pancakes with a fork, “Everything I learn about your childhood worries me.”

“Aw, Cas, you should be used to that by now.” Dean pats his back and tells Gabriel, “But you’re right, we’ve never gone to Vegas. Dad wasn’t a saint or anything, but I guess he knew a couple kids running around Sin City was a bad idea.”

“Even if we both knew how to gamble before we hit double digits,” Sam adds. “Which, you know, actually helps Cas’s point. So can we please change the subject, for all our sakes?”

Gabriel shrugs, putting the syrup bottle back on the table. “There’s always more birds. Has anyone heard of the Dickcissel?”

This time, Sam can see it clearly when Castiel thunks his head against the window. He clears his throat and takes a small bite of pancake.

It’s gonna be a long breakfast.

///

Somehow, no one’s been strangled or stabbed themselves with a fork by the time they’re all done eating. Their waitress - Jo, says her name tag that Sam finally remembers to read - comes to grab their plates and her tip, thanking them for coming and telling them to come back soon.

She’s pretty, and nice, and Sam thinks briefly that in another life, maybe she would have been with Dean. But in this one, they leave that nostalgic little diner behind and get back on the road.

It’s another couple hours of road-trip games and a good chunk of Dean’s ‘greatest hits’ cassettes blasting over the radio until they finally reach Las Vegas. The sky is just starting to turn purple, and Sam imagines what the city is going to look like when it’s dark, if it’ll be anything like the movies. He does think it would be cool to see all the bright lights and colors in person.

They find a hotel that’s rated four stars when Sam checks online, a whole star higher than any of the places where he and Dean grew up. It’s just far enough in their usual price-range that he doesn’t think he has to worry about what else they can afford here, but he’ll probably still keep track even just for peace of mind.

Knowing they share that kind of resource insecurity, it’s a miracle Castiel hasn’t dragged him and Dean off to therapy yet. But there’s still time.

They grab their luggage from the trunk, Sam shrugging on his duffel-bag and unlocking the wheels on his suitcase. Wearing a backpack twice his size that looks almost like a turtle shell, Gabriel bounces over to ask him, “Excited for the trip?”

“If we end up in jail when this is over, I’ll kill you.”

“I’m gonna take that as a ‘hell yeah’! What about you, Cassie?”

Duel-wielding suitcases like some sort of overeager accountant, Castiel says, “We’ve been driving for hours. I’m just happy not to be moving anymore.”

“Yeah, vertigo’s a bitch, isn’t it? Least you didn’t lose your second - or, I guess, third - breakfast.”

Closing the Impala’s trunk, Dean calls out, “He knows better.”

“I do,” Castiel agrees, nodding like it’s a solemn vow. And, knowing Dean, it just might be.

All signs point to that being true when Dean takes an extra minute to say goodbye to his Baby. Sam just shakes his head, but he still gives the roof an affectionate pat. He knows he’ll be right there with Dean razing Hell if anything happens to the Impala while they’re gone.

Once that’s settled, they make their way into the hotel. The lobby is all dark red and black, with tall lamps and plush seats. Sam hears Gabriel quietly ask, “Anybody else think we found a sex dungeon?”

“We should all be so lucky,” Castiel says flatly, and Sam stifles a laugh.

At the front desk, there’s a bored looking man wearing all black whose name tag reads ‘Crowley’. When they walk up, he fixes his collar and says with a put-on smile, “Welcome to the Lazarus Hotel. How many rooms would you like?”

Glancing around the group, Dean says, “Uh, two, I guess. Half and half.”

“Excellent choice. A moment, please.” Crowley turns and starts typing on a small screen. “How long is your stay?”

Leaning over, Dean quietly asks Sam, “What day is it?”

“Are you serious?”

“Time is a social construct, Sammy.”

As Sam rolls his eyes, Castiel leans over from behind him to answer, “It’s Thursday.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean says, then he turns back to Sam. “What do you think, we spend the weekend here and head home on Monday?”

Sam figures three days is reasonable, so he nods. Dean gets a nod from Castiel and a thumbs up from Gabriel before he tells Crowley, “Three days. Thanks.”

With the air of just about every cashier Sam’s met in his life, Crowley asks, “And will that be cash or credit?”

“Don’t you need a card at these kinds of places?”

“I still have to ask. Company policy, one could say.”

“Weird.” Dean shrugs, but he takes out his wallet and hands over a card. While Crowley swipes it over the screen, Sam asks his brother, “Did Charlie hook you up?”

“You know it.”

“Nice.”

The screen emits what sounds like a happy chirp, and Crowley nods and hands the card back. Then he turns to the long row of keys hanging on hooks behind the desk and grabs two pairs, giving one each to Sam and Dean. “That will be Rooms 308 and 316.”

That should be the end of it, but then Gabriel slides over and props an elbow on the desk. “Any advice for a couple of first-timers in the city?”

Crowley looks at him like something he found on the bottom of his shoe. “The house always wins. Meaning, don't gamble away all your money, we won’t be housing you if you can’t afford the trip home. Anything specific to the Lazarus can be found in here.”

He grabs a pamphlet off the little box on the desk, slapping Gabriel over the head with it. Gabriel yelps, but he grabs the pamphlet and starts reading, so he’s probably fine.

“Enjoy your stay,” Crowley says as they move to leave. “And don’t be wary of any promiscuous redheads. My mother is very forthcoming with all of her guests.”

“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Dean replies over his shoulder, a bit awkwardly. Turning back, he mutters, “Guess they keep it in the family around here.”

A short elevator trip brings them to the third floor, where they find the rooms chosen for them in the middle of the hallway, right across from each other. Glancing at the key in his hand, Sam asks, “So, uh, how are we doing this, exactly?”

Gabriel looks up from the pamphlet to say, “Dean and Cas should share. I don’t know about you, Samsquatch, but I doubt either of us wants to go home traumatized after this.”

Castiel covers his face with a deep sigh, but when Sam looks at Dean, he actually shrugs and says, “Guy’s got a point.”

“Yeah, I-I didn’t need any confirmation. Thanks.” Sam shakes his head and lifts the key in his hand, thinking. He doesn’t exactly want to be stuck rooming with Gabriel for three days - nine hours in a car was enough - but, well, what choice does he have?

“Alright,” He says, looming at Dean and Castiel. “Then you guys have 308, and Gabriel, that leaves us with 316.”

“Super!” Gabriel says. “I haven’t roomed with anybody since me and Raph were kids. Trust me, he’d tell you how amazing I am.”

While Dean unlocks Room 308, Castiel says, “If I recall, he pushed you out of a window once.”

“I like to think it was a test. Now we know I can’t fly, but I did learn to walk on a broken ankle. That was something!”

Castiel shakes his head, going into Room 308 first when Dean beckons him. But Dean stays behind a second to tell Sam and Gabriel, “Let’s try to settle in, and we’ll head back downstairs for dinner.”

Gabriel points to a line in the pamphlet. “Looks like it starts at 7.”

“That gives us,” Sam checks his watch. “A half-hour.”

“And they have a vegan menu for you, Samwise!”

“He’s not vegan,” Dean calls out. “Just a health nut. See you guys then.”

He salutes and steps into Room 308, shutting the door behind him. Meanwhile, Sam rolls his eyes and says, “Thanks for telling me, Gabriel. I might order from that menu just to piss him off.”

As he turns to unlock Room 316, Gabriel laughs. “I always knew you had a taste for chaos! This is gonna be so much fun.”

Sam smiles in a way he hopes is agreeable, even if he’s still just a little apprehensive as they head inside.

Here goes everything.

Chapter Text

Once they’ve unpacked and settled into their rooms, it’s down to the dining hall for dinner. All things considered, it’s uneventful - Sam does order from the vegan menu, flipping Dean off under the table when he makes a gagging noise, but they mostly eat in silence. Gabriel also gets bored - not surprising - and turns one of the velvet napkins into an origami swan; Dean snaps a few pictures of Castiel studying the thing like it’s a work of art to appease his brother.

So, yeah, dinner goes fine, then they say their goodnights and return to their rooms. Gabriel collapses onto his bed after only taking his shoes off, and Sam actually throws on some pajamas, but he isn’t too far behind.

When the sun hitting his face wakes Sam up in the morning, he groans and rolls over, rubbing one of his eyes. He blinks and looks toward the other bed, doing a double-take when he realizes Gabriel is gone.

“…It’s too early for this,” He decides after only a second, rolling onto his back - and promptly shielding his face from the sun. “As long as he doesn’t do anything illegal, it’s not my problem.”

After psyching himself up for it, he gets out of bed, shutting the curtains before stumbling into the bathroom. He goes through his morning routine, including a shower - shorter than he’d prefer, maybe, but the water pressure makes up for it. Drying his hair with one towel, he leaves that one in the little hamper and walks back out to get a change of clothes.

While he’s searching for pants in his duffel, a rhythmic knock comes at the door. It’s probably on instinct borne from so many years rooming with Dean that Sam calls out without even looking up, “It’s open!”

He does finally lift his head just as Gabriel strolls into the room, a colorful drink in hand. “Hey, did you know they have mim- Oh, raspberries.”

Sam freezes, remembering far too late that he’s only wearing a towel. He glances at the folded jeans in his hand, a blush creeping up his neck. “Uh-“

He pauses when Gabriel raises his free hand, the room key dangling between his fingers. “Don’t stop on my account. I can wait outside if you want.”

“No - Uh, no.” Sam shakes his head, putting the jeans on top of the shirt he already grabbed. “I-It’s okay. I just need a minute.”

Through the corner of his eye, he sees Gabriel shrug. “If you got it, flaunt it. I can respect that.”

Sam tucks his head briefly into his chest, shutting his eyes against the burn on his face. He clears his throat and pointedly grabs some boxers from his duffel next, adding them to the pile.

Gabriel, meanwhile, tosses the room key on the end-table by the door. He grabs the remote and moves to sit on the edge of his bed, turning on the TV.

Watching him sip that colorful drink, Sam narrows his eyes a bit. “Are you actually drinking a mimosa?”

“Yep! I met the lady who owns this place, she had them make one on the house. Nice enough, but the guy at the front desk was right, she seems like a lot.”

“…Huh.” Sam zips his duffel bag and gathers his stack of clothes, heading for the bathroom again. “Back in a sec.”

“Waiting patiently, Samwise!”

Sam chuckles half-heartedly, shutting the door behind him. He looks in the mirror and sees his face, along with his chest, is still dusted a light red. He sets his jaw and shakes his head again, setting the clothes on the counter and running the tap.

He leans over the sink and splashes cold water onto his face, glaring up at his reflection with droplets still running down his cheeks. He turns off the tap and scrubs his face with a hand-towel, breathing into it before tossing it aside and throwing on the new clothes.

Adjusting the collar of his T-shirt, Sam smooths out his still-damp hair and leaves the bathroom again. As he shuts the door, Gabriel looks up with a big smile. “There he is! Good as new.”

“Yeah.” Sam musters his own smile, going to sit on his bed. He grabs the handle of his rolling suitcase, pulling it over to open it and grab socks and one of his favorite pairs of boots. Putting the socks on, he asks, “You talked to Dean and Cas?”

“I knocked on their door, but Dean said ‘five more minutes’, so…” Gabriel shrugs. “Guess they need their beauty sleep.”

Sam chuckles, finishing with his socks and grabbing his first boot. “Yeah, when he doesn’t have anything important to do, good luck getting Dean out of bed.”

“Hell, I’ve seen Cas sleep. He strangles those pillows sometimes. Dean-o probably couldn’t get up even if he wanted to.”

Right as he ties the first knot in his laces, Sam laughs, pausing to drop his head in his hand. “Tell you what, if they’re not up by breakfast, then we’ll do something about it.”

“Sounds fair. Got a busy day ahead of us, so they’d better not be too tired.”

Sam glances over at Gabriel, tying the next knot. “What - Did you plan an itinerary or something?”

“Wow, gold star for using an SAT word.”

“It’s really not-“

“But to answer your question,” Gabriel turns to Sam, criss-crossing his legs. “I know a thing or two about Vegas. Plus I talked to some locals, asked where the best tourist traps are. It’s your first time, I want you to have fun.”

Sam blinks for a second and shakes his head. “Gabriel, you didn’t have to-“

He pauses as Gabriel waves it off. “Eh, it’s no skin off my back. You think I wanna sit in a hotel all day? Don’t get me wrong, this place is awesome, but still.”

Sam chuckles again, and there’s a warmth in his chest as he turns his attention back to his boots. “Guess we should be ready to go, then.”

He makes quick work of finishing his laces and stands, lightly clapping his thighs. “At least tell me I picked the right clothes.”

Gabriel looks up at him with an exaggerated once-over, and Sam rolls his eyes, ignoring the heat creeping under his skin again. Finally, Gabriel says, “Yeah, you’re good.”

He clears his throat and uncrosses his legs to stand, sipping his mimosa. “Breakfast starts in ten, we should probably get our brothers.”

“Yeah, okay,” Sam leads the way to the door, grabbing the room key. “Come on.”

Gabriel turns off the TV and bounces after him. “I call jumping on the bed!”

“You’re not doing that. Neither of us are doing that.”

///

Thankfully Dean and Castiel - if a little grumpy, in Dean’s case - wake up pretty easily. Only once Gabriel has seen what outfits they’ll be wearing does he let Sam pull him out of the room so their brothers can dress.

They have a quick breakfast in the dining hall, then a busser comes to gather their plates. As they leave the table to him, Dean looks around and asks, “Hold on, where’s Gabe?”

They all look, but they can’t find anything. Castiel mutters, “We need to put a bell on him.”

“Guys - Look,” Sam raises a hand. “He was right here a minute ago. He can’t have gone far.”

“Right you are, Samsquatch! You always were the smart one.”

Sam startles, looking over as Gabriel rejoins the group. His arms are full of water bottles and what looks like bags of trail mix. Sam says, “Uhh…”

“Where the hell did you go?” Dean asks. “And what is all that?”

“It’s called being prepared, Dean-o,” Gabriel says. “Catch!”

He throws one of the water bottles, and Dean yelps as it hits his chest, grabbing it before it can hit the floor. “Dude!”

Gabriel throws another bottle at Castiel and shoves a third into Sam’s hands. He holds up one of the trail mix bags, but a glare from Dean has him shoving all of them in his pockets. “I’ll just hold these, then. That works.”

“Gabriel, what is this?” Sam asks, gesturing. “What are we doing?”

“We, my friends and dear baby brother, are going hiking!”

Sam, Dean and Castiel all share a look. Dean echoes, deadpan, “Hiking.”

“Yep!” Gabriel nods. “Sure, maybe it’s not a dream vacay activity for some people. But I heard there’s a group checking out the Valley of Fire today, and, well, come on.” He raises his arms. “How am I supposed to say no to that?”

“The Valley of Fire?” Sam asks, trying not to sound too giddy. “That’s as old as the dinosaurs. I’ve heard there’s still petroglyphs on some of the rocks.”

“Of course you know what a petroglyph is,” Dean says, holding his temple. He sighs, dropping his hand. “Well, sounds like Sam is on board. Cas?”

Castiel shrugs, moving his water bottle between hands. “It couldn’t hurt.”

“Then I guess we’re all in.”

Gabriel cheers, clapping his hands together. “Valley of Fire! Let’s go!”

As they all leave the dining hall, Sam points out, “They don’t call it that for nothing. Isn’t it ninety-something degrees down there?”

“That’s what the water is for. If somebody passes out, my vote is we leave them to the elements. They had it coming.”

Sam stifles a laugh and says, “Sure, Gabriel.”

As they turn the corner, Dean mutters, “At least we have a pool to come back to.”

///

A surprisingly short drive directed by a crudely drawn map that Gabriel insists wasn’t done in crayon later, and they reach the Valley of Fire, joining the rest of the group about to start the hike. 

Sam kneels and grazes his fingers over the mesa at their feet, which thankfully only burns for a second. He lifts his sunglasses and looks at the dusty red now on his skin. “Woah…”

Dean scoffs out a laugh from behind him. “Nerd.”

Sam stands and shoots him a light-hearted glare, brushing his hand on his jeans. “We’ve never been to the desert before. Sue me.”

“Yeah, I get that you’re excited. It is pretty cool.”

Holding his water bottle to his neck, Castiel adds, “‘Cool’ being the operative term.”

Gabriel swallows a gulp of his own water, capping the bottle. “Like Sam said, it’s over ninety degrees here. You’ll get used to it.”

Adjusting his sunglasses, Dean says, “Yeah, I just hope Baby’s servers don’t fry.”

Sam claps him reassuringly on the shoulder. “She’ll be fine for a half-hour, Dean.”

That’s when the group leader announces that the hike is starting, and Gabriel flicks down his sunglasses. “Enough chit-chat, fellas. Let’s move!”

And off they go. For Sam, the hike is the highlight of the trip so far; he takes as many photos as he can and listens intently to the history behind the petroglyphs. The group leader, Jody, sometimes takes questions, and most of those times Dean has to pull Sam’s hand down to give someone else a turn.

There’s a reason Sam was always the teacher’s pet in school. It’s not his fault he loves learning.

Soon enough, though, Jody says, “And that, ladies and gents, concludes our tour of this side of the Valley. Thank you for coming, I hope we all had a good time.”

As she spouts off details about the next hike, Dean swallows his last mouthful of trail mix and sighs. “Thank God.”

“Hmmph.” Castiel hums in agreement, slumped against his shoulder. 

Sam wipes the sweat from his forehead, flicking through the pictures on his phone. “Yeah, it is really hot. But I don’t know, I had fun.”

Gabriel appears at his side, lifting his sunglasses with a grin. “Glad to hear it, Samsquatch! There’s plenty more where that came from…as soon as we find the car.”

To no surprise, Dean has a sixth sense for his Baby, and in what feels like a blink, they’re all sitting in the Impala. Cranking up the AC, Dean looks in the mirror at Gabriel. “Where to next?”

“You guys wanna see some aliens?”

“What-“ Sam leans over his seat to actually face Gabriel. “You mean like Area 51?”

“Well, not the real thing - we’d probably get shot. But there is a tourist trap!”

And as it turns out, that tourist trap is actually very informative on evidence of supposed extra-terrestrials. Sam reads up on the history of the actual Area 51, and he catches Dean letting out an impressed hum a few times as they explore. Even Castiel - who might actually have mild heatstroke - seems intrigued.

The tourist trap also features a gift shop.

Dean sighs as they all get back in the car, shutting his door. “Okay.”

He turns his head toward the backseat. “Now what?”

Holding an alien plushie, Gabriel says, “Depends. What do you think, Cassie?”

Slumped against the window wearing a black cap with an alien face for a logo, Castiel looks at him. “Wasn’t there a village somewhere on the list?”

“Tivoli Village, yeah! Seems like a nice place. Think they’ve even got a farmer’s market.”

Sam adjusts his own Area 51 cap and looks around at the group. “All in favor?”

“Aye!” Gabriel raises a hand, and Castiel does the same. “Aye.”

“Dean?”

Dean shrugs, revving the engine. “Alright, but this is the last stop. It’s already pushin’ noon.”

They head off toward Tivoli Village, which is sort of a little city within a city. It’s bustling with people, all friendly and most of them offering wares. It also turns out there is a farmer’s market, which doubles as almost another gift shop, so they pick up a few more little trinkets and mementos for the trip.

When they’re done exploring, they grab lunch at the El Dorado, a Spanish restaurant; Sam doesn’t exactly eat Spanish food often, but they have a variety of health-conscious choices that quickly win him over. Once they’ve eaten, they pop over to the nearby mall so Dean can use the bathroom, while Castiel looks for clothes because he isn’t sure he packed enough.

Of course, this leaves Sam and Gabriel alone to sit on a bench by the exit and wait. Sam starts looking through his photos from the Valley of Fire again, until Gabriel asks, “So what do you think? Pretty damn solid first day so far?”

Sam chuckles under his breath and looks over at him. “Yeah, sure. We’re all exhausted and probably sunburnt, but it was a good time.”

“I’ve done my job, then! Don’t think I’ve forgotten that we’re here to celebrate you, Samwise.”

“Wait-“ Sam sits up a little straighter. “It was all for me? I want you guys to have fun, too-“

“And we are! You think we got all this Area 51 merch for nothing?” Gabriel points between both of their hats, along with the alien plushie sitting between them on the bench. “Sure, Dean might yank your chain a little, and Cas probably wishes he was still sleeping, but I can promise you, we’re happy because you’re happy.”

He puts a hand on Sam’s arm, almost surprisingly sincere. “I already told you that you deserve the recognition. You’re allowed to be selfish, y’know.”

Sam blinks and glances at his hand, heat rising under his skin again. All he can really say is, “Thanks, I-I guess.”

Gabriel pats his arm. “Don’t mention it.”

He pulls away, but after only a beat, he asks, “Hey, would you be mad if I pushed Dean in the pool?”

Sam lets out a small, somewhat startled laugh into his hand. “Only ‘cause you beat me to it.”

“Eh, I’ve had worse odds.”

Sam chuckles again and turns his head toward the nearby fountain, watching the water flow. He has to bite back a smile, and when he props his cheek on his hand, his skin is still warm.

He almost convinces himself it really is just sunburn.

Chapter Text

As soon as they’re done at the mall, they head back to the hotel. They only get enough time to drop off all the Area 51 merch and everything in their rooms before Dean just about drags the rest of them to the pool, where they spend most of the afternoon. 

Nothing too noteworthy happens - apart from Gabriel keeping his promise and pushing Dean into the water when he’s not looking. Sam laughs so hard he almost cries, and once he’s made sure Dean is okay, Castiel joins him. Gabriel, the dramatic bastard he is, takes a bow, but Sam will gladly let him have that one.

After Dean is done sulking and they all agree they’ve spent more than enough time in the sun today, they head back inside to shower, then meet back up for dinner in the dining hall. Their table hasn’t even been cleared before Gabriel sweeps them all off toward the lounge.

As they all stand at the top of the short set of stairs, Sam looks around at all the people playing the slots and counting their chips. The future lawyer in him is already cringing, and he’s sure to remind Gabriel, “No getting arrested.”

“Count on it, Samwise. We might not know where we’re waking up tomorrow at the end of this, but I’m sure none of us want it to be in a cell.”

Stepping aside for a man to pass him, Castiel agrees, “That wouldn’t be preferable, no.”

Doing something on his phone, Dean hums I Shot The Sheriff, until Castiel lightly elbows him in the ribs. Dean looks up and asks, “Are we doin’ this or what? We’re kinda holding up the line.”

Gabriel responds by using the railing to slide over the steps and land on the floor. “Let’s go make some choices we’ll probably regret in the morning!”

Sam wryly says as they all follow him down, “The best kind.”

Dean raps his knuckles on his shoulder, asking, “You gonna count some cards with us, Sammy?”

“Ah, I don’t know. I-I’m a little out of practice, for one.”

Leaning with a hand propped on the wall, Gabriel says, “Sounds to me like you haven’t taken off the ‘Sunday school’ goggles yet. It’s not like you’re gonna walk into school next year and they’ll just know you were gambling.”

Gesturing around the group, he adds, “You think we’re gonna tell anyone? Snitches get stitches, Samwise.”

“What he said,” Dean agrees, and Sam chuckles, running a hand through his hair. He glances off to the side, thinking, then he raises three fingers. “Three rounds, then I’m done.”

Gabriel whoops and claps him on the arm. “Attaboy! Race you.”

And in a blink, he’s gone. Dean just shrugs and shoves his phone in his pocket, heading toward the blackjack table, while Castiel takes a second to tell Sam, “Maybe we should still consider who our one phone-call will be.”

Sam laughs and crosses his fingers, then they quickly follow after their brothers.

///

Three games of blackjack later, the boys have cleaned house thanks to Dean’s charm and Sam’s brains, just like when they were kids. If Sam thinks hard enough, he can imagine they’re still 11 and 15 and trying to scrounge enough money for dinner.

He’s happy that’s not as big of an issue anymore. Now it actually feels good to win, without anywhere near as much anxiety involved. It helps that Gabriel and Castiel keep clapping for them - one of them much more polite about it than the other, if anything.

After counting their winnings, they all split up; Dean tries his hand at the slots, and Castiel supervises him, while Gabriel…does Gabriel things. Really, he disappears again, and like last time, Sam just hopes he’s not in any trouble and moves on.

He finds himself at the bar, under much cozier lighting than the bright neon that is the rest of the lounge. As he takes up a stool, the bartender - Meg, apparently, because this time he remembers to read the name tag - looks up from the glass she’s cleaning. “Pick your poison.”

“Uh…” Sam skims his eyes over the shelves of bottles behind her, most of them with labels he doesn’t even recognize. He mostly sticks to regular cheap beer, so before he can get overwhelmed with all the choices, he says, “Surprise me?”

Meg looks him over and chuckles. “Ah, I know your type. Give me a second.”

She finishes cleaning the glass and sets it aside, throwing the rag in her hand over her shoulder and turning toward the shelves. Sam raps his knuckles on the bar a few times, hoping he won’t regret this, and watches her gather ingredients for a drink.

It’s a little hard to follow along, maybe because it’s been such a long day. But finally, Meg shakes up a glass of deep red liquid and puts it down in front of him. “We call this one Demon Blood. Campari with a dash of rum and whiskey.”

Sam peers into the glass and looks back at her. “Demon Blood, are you serious?”

Meg shrugs. “We’ve kind of got a theme around here. Let’s just say this place isn’t called the Lazarus for nothing.”

Gesturing to the drink, she says, “It’s best when it’s straight from the bottle, so the least you could do is try it. Humor me.”

Sam wraps a hand around the glass, studying the drink for a few more seconds. Maybe he really does need to start living a little…He glances at Meg one more time before tipping his head back and taking a sip. 

‘Demon Blood’ is a little bitter, which, given the name, feels appropriate. But it’s warm and also kind of sweet, probably from the whiskey. Sam lets it linger for a few seconds before he swallows, and Meg asks, “Well?”

Sam sets the glass back on the bar and tips his head in a small shrug. “I think it’ll grow on me.”

“Mm. That’s what they all say.” Meg nods and pats the bar. “Enjoy. Shout if you need a refill.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks.”

With a thumbs up, Meg spins to help someone at the other end of the bar. Sam watches her go and spends a minute warming himself up to the Demon Blood, until-

“Heya, Samsquatch!”

Sam chokes, covering his mouth and forcing himself to swallow. He clears his throat and sets the glass on the bar again, glaring over at the stool beside him. “Gabriel, we’ve talked about this.”

Gabriel spins around, stopping once he’s facing him by planting a hand on the bar. He shrugs and says, “Old habits. Solid gag reflex on you, though - impressive. Some people are into that kind of thing.”

Sam drops his head into his hand, letting that burn that’s starting to become his normal pass over his face again. He waits for it to die down before he looks up and says, deadpan, “I hate you.”

“Keep tellin’ yourself that. What’re you drinking?”

Sam rolls his eyes and glances at the glass of Demon Blood. “The bartender chose it for me. It’s…sort of an acquired taste-“

“Oh, I don’t want one or anything. Just curious.”

“What are you getting, then?”

“Brandy, probably? Something I picked up from my old man.”

As Gabriel signals Meg, Sam chuckles wryly under his breath. “Yeah, I know how that feels. Scotch was my dad’s go-to whenever we could afford it.”

“And did you or Dean-o ever indulge?”

Noticing Meg signaling that she needs a minute, Sam shrugs one shoulder. “Dean, absolutely. He’s got a stronger taste for it. Meanwhile, I had one glass when I was, like, 16, and I threw up in the bushes outside our motel. Still don’t know if Dad ever found out.”

Gabriel laughs, propping an elbow on the bar. “Whatever happened to that Sam Winchester?”

“He grew up and learned his limits, which, let’s be honest, is the best outcome.”

That’s when Meg slides over, clapping her hands together. “What can I get you?”

Gabriel does end up ordering a brandy, so she makes him a glass and promptly disappears again, with that same advice to shout for a refill. Sam raises his glass for another sip just as Gabriel says, “Guess we have something in common, huh?”

“What’s that?”

“A big helping of daddy issues.”

This time when Sam chokes, he has to stifle a laugh. He swallows again and says, “I mean, I’m not disagreeing. You must’ve heard a few things about our dad since Dean and Cas got together - even when Dean’s worshiping him, the red flags are always there.”

He’s glad they’re both waking up to the fact John isn’t the superhero he seemed to be when they were little. It’s just taking some time, particularly for Dean, and that’s okay.

“Oh, yeah,” Gabriel nods. “But I’m not as big of a wannabe therapist as Cas - which I say with love, of course. I just think if trauma-dumping in the middle of a conversation is how you and Dean work your shit out, it’s not hurting anyone. Hell, I did that with Naomi when she first married Dad - just seeing if she could take it, you know?”

Sam chuckles, watching him take a drink of his brandy. “Explains why Cas says she avoids you.”

“I’m technically the middle child, being overlooked is our bread and butter.”

“Pfft! I’ll take your word for it.”

Once Gabriel puts his glass down, Sam tilts his head and says, “You know, Cas does tell us a lot, but he’s never really talked about your dad remarrying. I mean, not that I can blame him - it must’ve been a-a pretty hard time.”

“You don’t know the half, Samsquatch. Those first couple months, Sunday dinner might as well have been called Armageddon.” Shaking his head, Gabriel swirls the brandy in his glass. “Mike and Lucy were at each other’s throats - even more than usual, since Mike is Dad’s golden boy, and so he was a-okay with all of us playing house. With Raph and Cas determined to stay out of it, that left me to break ‘em up.”

“Yikes.” Sam clicks his tongue in sympathy. Michael and Lucifer’s fights are notoriously explosive; you couldn’t pay him to throw himself in the middle of that. “So, uh, so what happened?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Caught a few strays a couple times, nothing I can’t handle. At least if I got hurt, then it meant they would stop.”

“Jesus, Gabriel-“

“Hey, now, look at me,” Gabriel lifts his free arm, gesturing to himself. “Elastic, remember?”

“Right.” Sam just nods along. “Right.”

He takes another gulp of his drink - they are both far too sober for this - and asks, “What about your dad?”

“You mean, did he do anything? So long as they didn’t kill each other or mess up the house, no. Dad’s an alright guy, he’s just got too many kids and he doesn’t know what to do with us anymore - at least, that’s my take on things. So we just waited until everything kinda…fizzled out.”

Sam hates how much of that he can understand. He learned to walk on eggshells around John before he started elementary school, how to wait for things to get better. It was hell.

He waits until he’s sure Gabriel is done talking, then he says, “An apology won’t do anything - speaking from experience. So I’m just gonna say…I’m glad you and Cas got out of there. I’m glad you’re both okay.”

Gabriel flashes his usual grin, but there’s something soft behind his eyes. “Thanks.”

“It’s been, what, four years now, right? Maybe a stupid question, but has it - has it gotten better?”

“Sort of. We’re not singing kumbaya around the campfire or anything, but we make it work. Naomi, and Anna…it’s still hard to call them ‘family’ sometimes, but Anna’s just a kid. She doesn’t deserve to put up with our crap. And, well, you just got a taste of my relationship with Naomi.”

After a second, Sam chuckles and nods. “Trauma-dumping, right. Can see why it puts her off.”

“Perfect. Still got it.”

Sam stifles another small laugh, watching Gabriel take another drink. After, he drops his hand on the bar and says, “Hey, listen-“

“Hm?”

“I had to break up a lot of fights between Dean and our dad growing up - at least, until it was my turn.” Sam almost flinches, remembering the night he left for Stanford. He shakes it off and continues, “I know how - how hopeless it feels watching people you care about go at each other like that. You’d do anything to make it stop, even make yourself an easier target - the difference between us is, I had Dean to stop me from ever doing that.”

His eyes are down, but in that last second, he locks them with Gabriel’s. “You were caught between a rock and a hard place, just trying to keep your family together. Your dad should’ve pulled his head out of his ass the second you started doing what should’ve been his job. Look, Gabriel…”

He puts a hand on his head and works his jaw, searching for the right words until he finds them and looks up again. “You drive me crazy. It’s been that way since we first met. But even if it’s only been two days, I think I’ve learned a lot on this trip, and one of those things is that you might be a professional pain in the ass-“

He flashes a brief, wry smirk when Gabriel snorts and raises his drink. “Guilty as charged.”

“But,” Sam lifts his own drink. “All around, you’re actually a pretty good guy.”

He clinks their glasses together, and Gabriel holds a hand to his heart. “I’m touched. I knew you’d come around to my charms eventually, but if it all it took was a taste of my tragic backstory, we could’ve done this years ago.”

Sam briefly ducks his head with another quiet laugh. “It’s more than that. You…” He presses his lips together and drums his fingers on his knee, flashing a smile he hopes doesn’t look too sheepish. “You’ve done a lot for me when, with how we usually get along, you really shouldn’t have to. That means more than I could ever explain.”

There’s that soft look in Gabriel’s eyes again, much clearer than before. His smile is warmer than anything Sam has ever seen from him as he says, with only a touch of his usual playful energy, “All in a day’s work.”

He tips his head toward both their drinks. “Now we should probably finish these before the bartender chases us off with a broom.”

Sam lets out one more laugh, lighter than he thinks he’s heard from himself for a long time. He sips his drink, keeping one eye open to watch Gabriel knock back some more brandy.

And as the mix of neon and warmer lights shine down on them, surrounding them both in a halo of color and bringing out the twinkle in Gabriel’s eyes, Sam lets a realization that would probably be heavier if he was sober settle itself in his chest.

He is so fucked.

///

Sam groans, struggling to open his eyes that feel impossibly heavy. He spots a sliver of sunlight coming through the window and, even in a haze, realizes he’s back in the hotel room - lying on the floor, given the dull ache in his back. 

Holding his pounding head, he sits up, looking over his shoulder at the chair he was slumped against. At least it made a half-decent pillow. He clears his throat and lets his head fall, using his free hand to massage the space between his neck and spine - until something cold presses against his skin, and he startles. “What the hell-?”

Pulling his hand back, he freezes, his jaw falling at the sight of the silver ring on his finger. He manages to move just enough to turn his hand, watching the metal glint in the sunlight. It looks just like his dad’s ring - not the one he got in the Marines, but the other one.

It’s a wedding band.

Sam knows instantly what he has to do, so even if his head is still throbbing and his legs take a second to cooperate, he scrambles to his feet. He goes over to one of the beds, shaking the form under the blankets. “Gabriel!”

“Ugh, what time is it?”

“That doesn’t matter! Get up!”

Sam only gets a groan in response, and he curses under his breath. He reaches back and swipes a pillow off his own bed, bringing it down on the bundle of blankets.

“AH!” Gabriel nearly rolls off the bed, but he does sit up, smoothing out his messy hair. “Give a guy some warning before you sound the alarm!”

“I don’t think I will,” Sam says with a tight-lipped smile. He grabs Gabriel’s left hand from where it rests on the bed, the ring on his finger catching in the sunlight just like Sam’s own. “We have a problem.”

Gabriel blanches, eyes flicking between the ring and, when Sam holds it up, his own left hand. “Oh…Oh, shit.”

Sam couldn’t possibly agree more.

Chapter Text

Sam finishes pacing in a small circle and breaths deeply into his hands, the ring on his finger pressing into his cheek. He drops his hands to gesture as he asks, “How drunk were we last night?”

Sitting at the foot of his bed, Gabriel shrugs. “How many drinks you remember having?”

“Like, three? I don’t know!”

“Yeah, that’d be the problem.”

Sam works his jaw and pinches his nose until it hurts. Again, he gestures as he asks, “What are we supposed to do?”

“Well, for starters, we should probably let Dean and Cas know what’s up.”

“Oh, God, Dean will never let me live this down,” Sam puts a hand on his head, tangling it in his hair as he breathes, then he nods. “But you’re right. Let’s go, uh, see if they’re awake, I guess.”

Gabriel stands, and Sam grabs the room key as they head for the door. Just as he puts in the lock, Gabriel’s hand falls on his bicep. “Sam.”

“What?”

“Are you good?”

Sam looks back at Gabriel, with his rumpled hair that he’s barely managed to smooth down and eyes shining in the light from the window. Sam’s stupid traitorous heart stutters in his chest, but he answers, almost surprised with how passable it sounds, “Yeah, sure.”

Gabriel studies his face for another second, then he pulls away and gestures for them to move along. Sam ignores how cold he feels now that they’re not touching and unlocks the door, leading the way into the hall.

Shutting the door behind them, Gabriel nods toward Room 308. “Which one of us is biting the bullet?”

Sam shrugs, taking a second to remember they’re still in pajamas as he automatically tries slipping the room key in his pants pocket. He takes that as an excuse to toy with it between his fingers as he says, “I don’t know. Not like either of us want to.”

After a beat, Gabriel holds out a hand. “Rock, paper, scissors?”

It’s so stupid that it’s endearing, and even with the weight of the situation heavy in the air, Sam musters a laugh. “You’re unbelievable.”

“If it ain’t broke…”

Sam shakes his head, but he does tuck the key safely between his fingers and make a fist. They each hit their palms three times and hold out their hands; paper covers rock, and so, Gabriel says, “You’re up, Samwise.”

Sam lets out a small breath, setting his shoulders and, before he can chicken out, moving to knock on the door. It only takes a few tries before Castiel calls out, “Hello?”

Glancing back at Gabriel, who gives him a thumbs up, Sam says, “Uh, hey, Cas. Can you open up?”

“One second.”

There’s shuffling, then a lock clicks, and Castiel opens the door. “Hello, Sam. Gabriel.”

Gabriel leans over to wave. “Hey, bro.”

“Are we going out on another ‘adventure’ today?”

“No,” Sam chimes back in, toying with the room key again in his right hand while the left burns at his side. “But we need to talk. Where is, uh, where’s Dean?”

Behind Castiel, the bathroom door opens, and Dean strolls out. Castiel says, “Here, apparently. Come in.”

He steps aside for Sam and Gabriel to enter the room, and the first thing Dean says is, “Oh, not another ambush-“

“It’s not like that, Dean,” Sam cuts him off. He looks between his brother and Castiel. “Do, uh, you guys remember what happened last night?”

“I do,” Castiel says. “I decided not to drink. Dean had two glasses, though.”

“Really?” Gabriel asks, and Dean shrugs, folding his arms. “Cas was being a mother hen.”

“Call it whatever you want so long as you listen for once,” Castiel says. He ignores Dean’s squawk and asks Sam, “Do you not remember last night?”

“Not really, no,” Sam glances at Gabriel, who nods along and adds, “But we sure have something to show for it.”

Dean blinks, looking between the two of them. “The hell does that mean?”

Sam and Gabriel share their own look, and when Gabriel tips his head, Sam bites down on his tongue and answers, “So there’s a small chance that we’re sort of, uh, married.”

“…Excuse me?” Castiel asks, which is honestly fair.

All Sam has left in him is holding up his left hand, and he sees Gabriel do the same. Their brothers both stare, until Dean says something that really sums up the situation.

“Son of a bitch.”

///

Castiel pours more coffee from the pot into the cups on the table. Sam musters a smile, barely catching Gabriel’s brief ‘thanks’, before Dean asks, “You two sober enough yet?”

“My head still hurts, kind of,” Sam answers, rubbing his temple. “But I’ll live. Gabriel?”

“Ditto.”

“Great, then let’s get into it.” Dean props one hand on the back of the empty chair at the table, gesturing with the other. “How did this happen?”

Sam and Gabriel share another look, and Gabriel says, “We’re about as lost as you are. We just woke up like this.”

“Okay, so what do you remember?”

“Well, the bar,” Sam chimes in. “Obviously. But then - then nothing.”

“Nothin’,” Gabriel agrees, shaking his head.

Putting the coffee-pot on the counter, Castiel says, “Maybe you should talk to the bartender.”

“…Cassie, you’re a genius. Sam, thoughts?”

As Gabriel looks at him, Sam shrugs and says, “I guess we could try. Would she be there this early?”

“Only one way to find out,” Dean says. He claps his hand on the chair and steps away from the table. “You two finish your coffee, then let’s all get dressed and head down.”

It’s a solid plan, more than they’d probably get from anything else. So Sam and Gabriel knock back the rest of the coffee, then they head back to their room to change.

Once they’re all ready, they go downstairs, heading right for the lounge. Sam almost melts with relief when he sees Meg wiping down the bar. “Meg!”

“Demon Blood, I remember you!”

“Did you seriously drink something called Demon Blood-?”

“Shut up, Dean.” Sam puts a hand over his brother’s mouth, giving him a pointed look until Dean rolls his eyes and gestures for him to stop. Sam drops his hand and goes down the steps, over to the bar. “Meg, listen, we need your help.”

Meg looks at the ornate clock on the wall and says, “You got five minutes, my boss wants everything clean by 10.”

“Okay, so you remember me and Gabriel, right?” Sam points out Gabriel, who waves, then Sam continues, “How long were we here?”

Meg shrugs and says, “Like, an hour. Shouldn’t you know that?”

“Oh, sure,” Gabriel says. He hops down the steps and comes to Sam’s side. “Except we can hardly remember anything.”

“Yikes. Yeah, that happens, you know, with a lot of the strong stuff. But you both called it quits after four glasses, and I can promise I didn’t over-serve you.”

“We didn’t think you did,” Sam assures. “We’re just trying to work this out. So what happened after that?”

Meg tips her head in another shrug, scrubbing at a spot on the bar. “You both paid in cash, then you were gone. Once you walk out of here, you’re not my responsibility anymore, and you both looked like the worst that could happen was you’d trip over your own feet. Not ideal, maybe, but I’ve seen way worse, so I let you go.”

Dean and Castiel are lingering behind now, and Castiel asks, “So you can’t help, then?”

“I don’t think so. Sorry.”

Gabriel snaps his fingers in disappontment, and Sam puts a hand on his head with a deep sigh. “Thanks anyway, Meg.”

“Sure. But what are you guys so worried about, exactly?”

Sam blinks, looking at Gabriel again. “We didn’t tell her.”

“Probably should’ve led with that.”

“Yeah. Uh…” Sam flaps his hands at his sides and looks back at Meg, showing her his ring. “We woke up wearing these.”

Gabriel flashes his own ring, and Meg whistles, looking between them. “Mazel tov. Must be rough to say you can’t remember your own wedding.”

Sam gives a sardonic smile, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, it really is.”

“Well, if you want, I can tell you where the chapel is.”

At that, Sam and Gabriel both perk up a little. Gabriel asks, “You can?”

“Sure, it’s just off the lobby down the left hallway. Boss had it installed because she figured we were getting so many lovebirds as guests that we might as well profit off of it.”

“It’s 9AM,” Dean calls out. “Is the place even open?”

Meg gives him a plain look. “You’re in Vegas, handsome. Nothing is ever closed.”

“Great,” Sam claps his hands together, if a little anxiously. “Thank you so much, Meg.”

“Any time. Good luck and, uh, congrats.”

Gabriel shoots Meg a thumbs up, and Sam gives her a smile even as his heart skips a beat. Turning to Dean and Castiel, he asks, “Are you guys coming?”

“We’re missing the continental breakfast for this,” Dean says. “But yeah, we’re right here with you, Sammy.”

As Castiel nods, Sam lets out a breath and does the same. Then Meg calls out, “If you linger, you have to buy something.”

So they all quickly head for the exit, Sam offering her one last ‘thank you’ as they leave.

///

Staring at the large double doors in front of them, Dean says, “…This looks so stupid.”

Sam studies the bedazzled wood, decked out in heart-shaped neon lights and what he assumes are paper flowers. “Well, it’s not like it’s a real church.”

“Still, the bar’s on the ground. But anyway,” Dean cracks his knuckles. “Who’s gonna let Elvis know we’re here?”

Sam instantly looks at Gabriel. “I knocked last time.”

“What, so we’re trading now?”

“How much longer do you want this to take?”

“…Fair.” Gabriel takes his hands from his pockets, grabbing the ornate brass knocker on one door and tapping it against the wood.

There’s a muffled curse from inside the chapel, then after a few seconds of rapid footsteps, a bald man in a rumpled suit - surprisingly not an Elvis costume - opens the door. “Good morning. Would you like a service or a blessing?”

Dean asks, “People ask you for blessings?”

“I poured sparkling water on a guy’s head and called it holy for the extra cash. There aren’t exactly limits here.”

Sam shoots Dean another look for getting side-tracked again, and his brother steps back, raising his hands. “Shutting up now.”

“Hm.” Sam turns back to the man. “Excuse me, hi. We’re sorry to bother you this early.”

“Already happened once, might as well get a twofer.”

Popping up next to Sam, Gabriel asks, “So you remember us?”

“Well, I’m not exactly short on ‘clients’, but you two make a pretty distinct picture.”

“…We’ll take that as a compliment,” Sam says. “Look, sir - sorry, did we ever get your name?”

“Zachariah.”

Gabriel stifles a snort, and Castiel gives Zachariah an apologetic look and nudges his arm. “I don’t know if we can talk when Lucifer is our brother.”

“You know, good point. That’s a good point. But still, really?”

Zachariah sighs and waves a hand. “My mother is very religious. Let’s just say I didn’t get this job for my winning personality and move on. Do you want to come in, or are we doing this out here?”

He ushers them all inside and shuts the door. The chapel, ironically, doesn’t exactly ring any bells for Sam, but his head is still just a little fuzzy. Hopefully it gets better soon.

“Step into my office,” Zachariah says, gesturing to the short row of pews. Dean moves first, him and Castiel sitting in the second pew while Sam and Gabriel take up the front. Zachariah sits down on the altar steps in front of them and asks, “What’s the situation?”

Sam and Gabriel look at each other, and Sam says, “Uh, we don’t remember coming here.”

“Or getting hitched,” Gabriel adds. “Just so we all understand each other.”

Zachariah hisses, clicking his tongue. “Oof. Hate it when that happens. Look, the hotel will deal with a refund if you just talk to the front desk-“

“No, we don’t want money,” Sam cuts him off. “We, um, were wondering if you - if…”

He flounders again, looking at the others for help. Dean leans over the pew and says, “They want you to take it back.”

Sam nods as he pats the pew and sits back down. “What he said.”

Zachariah looks between him and Gabriel, wide-eyed in a way that’s instantly unsettling. Clearing his throat, he tugs at his collar and says, “Yeah, I-I can’t do that.”

Sam sputters for a second, then he drops his head in his hand with a groan. Gabriel pats his back and asks, “What do you mean, you can’t?”

“Well,” Zachariah says. “Sure, it’s usually a spur-of-the-moment thing, but people do actually get married here. I’m ordained, even. It’s all by the book; you want an annulment, you’ll have to talk to a lawyer.”

Sam runs a hand over his hair with a deep sigh. “Perfect.”

He glances at his ring, then the matching one on Gabriel’s finger. He’s not a divorce attorney, and he doubts they’ll have time to get a hold of one, if they even figure out how. This might be…

Before ‘forever’ can sink itself into his bones, Sam shakes his head and says, “Thank you, Zachariah.”

“Don’t mention it. So, um, was that all?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel says, glancing at Sam so fast he can’t figure out what it means. “That’s it.”

Zachariah lightly claps his knees. “I’ll get the door, then.”

They all get up, and he holds the door open for them to leave. Once they’re in the hall, Zachariah says, “One more thing.”

When Sam and Gabriel look at him, he pats the door-frame. “Good luck. You’re gonna need it.”

Then he shuts the door, leaving Sam and Gabriel to look at each other, lost. Dean gives them a shrug, and Castiel puts a hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Gabriel, Sam, I’m sorry.”

Gabriel bats his hand away, his eyes never leaving Sam’s. Neither of them speak, they just look at their rings, glinting in the light from the window across the hall with a promise it’s starting to look like they can’t break.

Now what…?

Chapter Text

For a good few minutes, they all just linger outside the chapel. Sam keeps looking between his ring and Gabriel, who’s quietly talking to Castiel about something - which is almost definitely him, because none of the Shurleys have ever been subtle and he catches Castiel glances at him once or twice. 

Dean has been quiet, looking out the window, but then he turns and asks, “What’s the plan, exactly?”

Sam shrugs, and he can see Gabriel doing the same, as he says, “I-I don’t know.”

“Are you gonna talk to a lawyer?”

“I mean, I guess I can look into everything Zachariah said, at least,” Sam runs a hand through his hair for probably the tenth time in half as many minutes. “See if it checks out.”

He looks at Gabriel for his thoughts, again catching something in his eyes that Sam doesn’t have time to read before Gabriel glances at his brother. Sam can’t decipher Castiel’s expression either, but he does catch the disappointment when Gabriel says, “Yeah, sure, let’s do that.”

“…Okay,” Sam says, trying not to sound too confused. He glances at his watch and adds, “We did miss breakfast, so I guess we’re all ordering in?”

“Looks like,” Dean says, then he claps his hands together. “Back upstairs, then.”

As they all head down the hall toward the elevator, Sam slips his hands in his pockets, letting himself feel the press of his ring against his jeans. It’s only for a second, then he shakes his head and focuses on walking.

He doesn’t dare look at Gabriel again. He just knows that would make it so much harder to believe this isn’t permanent.

///

Sam eats the last bite of his omelet, scrolling on his laptop for a few more seconds before he sets the fork down on the plate next to him. Working his jaw, he props his head in his hand, clicking out of the dozenth useless article he’s pulled up.

That’s when the door opens, and Gabriel calls out, “Back!”

Sam can’t help how he perks up a little, watching him turn the short corner and come over. Noticing what’s in his hands, Sam says, “You’re kidding - You went to get mimosas?”

“Correction, these are mock-mosas,” Gabriel answers, putting the two glasses on the table. “Courtesy of the owner, again. Apparently the woman’s got ears everywhere, and she already had these made as an apology. Or, she called it a wedding gift, but she did say she’s sorry for the ‘misunderstanding’.”

“Uh-huh,” Sam says, ignoring how his ring burns on his finger just at the word ‘wedding’. He drums his fingers on the table before pulling one of the ‘mock-mosas’ over to him. “What exactly makes them different?”

“After last night, getting drunk might be the worst possible idea. So it’s just OJ instead of the stronger stuff. Here,” Gabriel tosses the room key on the table, waiting for Sam to grab it before he points out the orange slice on the rim of both glasses. “See, they even have decorations!”

Sam chuckles under his breath, moving his plate aside. “Yeah, I think I get it.”

Gabriel sits down across from him, grabbing his own plate he finished earlier and putting it on top of Sam’s. It’s such a small thing that somehow feels so domestic, and Sam quickly distracts himself from that thought by sipping his mock-mosa.

Gabriel lightly knocks their knees together to get his attention, which almost has Sam blushing again. He wills it away, letting his heart calm down and asking as he puts his glass back on the table, “What?”

“Got anything?”

“Oh. No, uh-“ Sam shuts his laptop, lightly shaking his head. “No. The whole process could take a few months at least, and that’s time we just don’t have. Not to mention I think a judge would probably laugh us straight out of court.”

“Pfft! Yeah, probably.”

A beat passes where they just look at each other, until Gabriel asks, “So, what, are we gonna…stay married, then?”

Sam bites his lip, his left hand clutching his knee so hard the ring will probably leave a bruise. He looks at Gabriel’s hand on the table, then his own, before he somehow finds the strength to answer, “I guess.”

“Well,” Gabriel tips his head in a small shrug. “There’re worse people to get stuck with, right?”

“Right.”

“So then how come you look so nervous?”

Sam presses his lips together, his eyes flicking between their rings again. When Gabriel calls his name, what he ends up saying is, “I guess I’m just…processing.”

It doesn’t exactly look like Gabriel believes him, but he does nod. “Okay.”

He grabs his mock-mosa for a sip, and Sam does the same, briefly wishing it was alcohol because he does not want to be sober for this. When they both put their glasses down, he somehow finds it in him to ask anyway, “Are we going to try to - to make this work, or what?”

“I don’t know,” Gabriel shrugs. “What do you wanna do, push the beds together? ‘Cause the hotel might have a problem with that.”

Sam musters a soft chuckle, putting his head in his hand. He breathes out through his nose, getting his bearings, but his face is still just a little warm when he looks up again. “Or we could try going on a date.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows shoot up. “Sorry, did you just ask me out, or am I hearing things?”

Sam scoffs out another quiet laugh, but it’s sincere when he says, “There’s nothing wrong with just…seeing if it works. Like you said, there are worse people to be stuck with.”

After a second, he puts his left hand on the table in front of Gabriel’s, both of their rings glinting in the light. “And it’s not like we can stay friends. Not if we’re still wearing these.”

His face burning in a way that somehow doesn’t feel as punishing anymore, he watches as Gabriel traces a finger over his ring. When he doesn’t respond, Sam says, “We can still take them off-“

“No.” Gabriel looks at him, and unless it’s a trick of the light, his own face is definitely just a little pink. There’s that same soft look in his eyes, one of the few things Sam remembers from last night. “I like your idea better.”

Sam smiles, his heart fluttering in his chest. “Okay. We’ll do that.”

He has to psych himself up for looking away just long enough to check his watch again. “It’s almost noon. We have time, but honestly, I don’t know if I’m up for leaving the hotel today.”

“Yeah, me neither. But we could still make the most of our last day here in Vegas.”

It feels almost too long, but Sam nods and says, “Tomorrow, then.”

Again, he hesitates before pulling his hand away to grab his mock-mosa. As he sips it, Gabriel says, “Now the question is, what do we do for the rest of the day?”

Sam puts his glass down, thinking. “…Movie marathon?”

“Depends, can we try to guess what tropes will be in them? My brothers never play with me.”

“You’re kidding. That’s how Dean and I kept ourselves busy as kids - I’m a little rusty, but I was actually pretty good at it.”

“Oh, if we weren’t already married - alright, where’s the remote-?”

///

The rest of the day is spent making fun of the b-movies the hotel offers - they even have a drinking game, at least until they finish their mock-mosas. They do start out sitting at opposite ends of Sam’s bed, but Gabriel quickly moves close enough to shake Sam when exciting things happen or use his shoulder as a pillow. Sam can’t, and absolutely wouldn’t, complain.

During a break, Sam pops into the bathroom to call Dean. It rings twice before his brother asks, “Yeah, Sammy?”

”Hey, uh, I just need to ask something real quick.”

”You could just do that at dinner.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know if I feel safe with you around sharp objects.”

Sam leans back against the door, listening to Dean whistle. “That’s never a good sign. Alright, lay it on me.”

”I need to borrow the car tomorrow.”

”What for? You know I’m not just handing it over.”

”Uh,” Sam glances up at his reflection in the mirror, watching his face go red before he quickly looks down. “Gabriel and I, we talked, and we’re, um…we decided to go on a date.”

He counts the seconds until Dean laughs, and he sighs. “Dean-“

”You’re serious? You guys were ready to throw in the towel this morning, now you’re actually going through with it?”

”Well, yeah,” Sam shrugs, glancing at the mirror again. “An annulment would take too much time - and money, honestly. Besides…”

He presses his lips together, flexing his left hand just to feel the ring. “I want this to work. You know?”

A beat passes before Dean asks, in a way that sounds like he saw it coming, “You’re falling for him, aren’t you?”

Sam’s face burns even more, but he nods softly to himself. Quietly, he says, “I think I already have.”

”…Well, shit.”

That response actually gets a startled laugh out of Sam, which he’s honestly grateful for with how tense the whole day has been. “Is that good or bad?”

”Good, obviously! Screwing with you is my favorite pass-time, but I’ll never actually judge you for who you date. Even if it is Gabriel.”

”Pfft! Yeah, that - I guess that’s fair.”

“You can have the car. You just gotta promise she won’t have a single scratch when you’re done.”

Maybe it’s a little tall of an order, but with how important Baby is to Dean, it’s not exactly a surprise. And she’s important to Sam too, which is why it’s genuine when he says, “I promise.”

”Great. Then we’ll talk later.”

”Yeah, I guess. See you then.”

”Bye, Sammy.”

Just as Sam is about to hang up, he hears Dean call out, “Cas, you owe me five bucks!”

Rolling his eyes, Sam ends the call, shaking the blush off his face and pocketing his phone. “Why am I not surprised?”

He leaves the bathroom, shutting the door behind him and looking at Gabriel playing with the remote. “Did you find another one?”

”Yeah, Legally Blonde.”

”I swear to God if it’s because she’s a lawyer-“

”Can’t hear you, movie’s starting!”

Sam sighs and goes to sit back down. “Just don’t start calling me Elle Woods after this.”

”I make no promises.”

It’s getting dark by the time they run out of movies, along with paper to keep track of their scores - they agree that it’s a draw after only a little arguing. Then it’s downstairs for dinner, where Gabriel keeps touching their feet together and Dean and Castiel swap money under the table in a way that Sam has to think is obvious on purpose. 

They all take the elevator when they’re done, and as they go down the hall, Sam asks Gabriel, “Tell me again how Mrs. Doubtfire is a horror movie?”

“He almost kills the stepdad! How is it not horror?”

“Well, it’s Robin Williams, for one-“

“You are not typecasting Robin Williams. Comedians are pretty much always great in other genres.”

“You know what, that’s fair. It was a cheap shot.”

“Thank you.”

“Finally,” Dean says just as they reach their rooms. “It’s been a day and you already fight like you’ve been married for years.”

Sam and Gabriel share a look, and Gabriel says, “It’s not much different from before.”

“It’s really not.”

“Yeah, okay, Honeymooners,” Dean raises a hand, slipping Castiel their room key. “If this is what tomorrow looks like, I’m glad you’re going out. Speaking of which, Sam, I’ll give you the keys in the morning.”

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam says, watching him and Castiel enter their room. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” Castiel calls out, and Dean echoes, “G’night, lovebirds!”

Gabriel scoffs, folding his arms. “Hypocrite.”

Sam chuckles, grabbing their own key from his pocket. “Come on, Gabe.”

In their room, they get ready for bed. Before Sam can turn off the lamp, Gabriel appears next to him, putting his head on Sam’s shoulder again. “Are cuddles out of the question?”

Sam almost impresses himself with how dryly he answers, somehow without laughing, “Not tonight, dear.”

“Aw, come on! You can be the big spoon.”

At that, Sam cocks a brow, biting back an amused smile. “I would kind of have to be.”

“So? I’m very huggable.”

Sam chuckles again, lightly shrugging Gabriel off. “I just think it’s a little soon to start sharing a bed. Plus you snore.”

“I do not!”

“I’m sorry, Gabe, but you do.”

Gabriel huffs, dramatic as ever, and stands. “I know when I’m not wanted.”

Sam rolls his eyes, watching him go to his own bed. “Goodnight, Gabriel.”

“No it isn’t!”

Sam can’t hide it anymore, and he laughs, dripping his head in his hand. He runs his hand back through his hair and leans over to turn off the lamp, listening to Gabriel doing the same. Sam glances over one more time to see him already burrowing into the blankets, and he smiles before laying down himself.

Still, he’s counting he’s lucky stars for tomorrow. Just to be safe.

Chapter Text

When Sam wakes up, it’s to a finger poking around his face. He blindly snatches the hand and opens his eyes, unimpressed. “Really?”

Sitting beside him, Gabriel blinks. “What the hell kind of reflexes do you have?”

“The kind that come from too many wrestling matches with Dean. Why can’t you wake me up like a normal person?”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

Sam rolls his eyes and sits up, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He’s ready to brush away the hair that falls into his face - like it does every morning - except Gabriel does it for him, tucking the hair behind Sam’s ear as he mutters, “You really are a puppy.”

Sam scoffs out a laugh. “Shut up.”

He pulls his hand away, ignoring Gabriel’s disappointed pout as he says, “Today’s the day.”

Instantly, Gabriel’s pout turns into a bright smile that puts a warm feeling in his chest. “Today’s the day.”

“Do we even know where we’re going?”

“Not at all. But I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”

Sam chuckles and nods, before lightly batting Gabriel away. “Alright, up.”

“Aww!”

“Gabe, we have to go to breakfast. And you shouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

“I woke up early and I was lonely.”

“Well, I’m awake now, so move.”

Gabriel huffs lightly, but he does stand from the bed. Watching Sam throw the blanket aside, he says, “You’re bossy.”

“Something tells me you’re into that.”

“Well, yeah, but still.”

Sam chuckles again, putting a hand on his head. “Will you just go get dressed?”

“Fine! Fine.”

They both make quick work of getting changed, probably at least in part because it’s such a big day. Fixing the collar of his T-shirt, Sam turns and promptly chokes, covering his mouth. “Are you kidding me?”

Gabriel looks down at his bright red floral Hawaiian shirt and board shorts and says, “I don’t see anything to kid about.”

“You look like you’re cosplaying as a tourist.”

“I resent that comment. It’s our last day of vacation and I plan to act like it.” Gabriel pulls a pair of novelty sunglasses with flamingo-shaped frames out of his shirt pocket, putting them on. “It’s not my fault you don’t have a sense of style.”

As he puts his hands on his hips, Sam doubles over, a hand on his knee as he shakes with barely-concealed laughter. Gabriel comes over and grabs his free hand, pressing another pair of sunglasses into it. “I got these for you.”

Sam clears his throat and pushes himself to look at the sunglasses; the frames are neon green with small pineapples at the tips, but nowhere near as gaudy as the flamingos. Standing, he opens the sunglasses and props them on his temple. “We look ridiculous.”

Gabriel lifts his own sunglasses with a grin. “Better get used to it, Samwise! You know what you signed up for.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Ouch. Is that how you talk to everyone before the first date?”

The last two words make Sam’s heart skip a beat. He actually impresses himself when he says without tripping over his words, “Only when I hope it’s my last first date.”

He smiles at Gabriel’s stunned expression, even if both their faces are a little pink. Sam heads for the door, grabbing the room key. “Let’s go eat.”

They meet Dean and Castiel in the hall, giving Dean a good minute to laugh at Gabriel’s outfit and Sam’s sunglasses before they all go downstairs. Breakfast in the dining hall is as uneventful as ever, apart from Gabriel insisting on playing footsie again. 

Speaking of Gabriel, he’s absolutely buzzing, and he’s the first to stand once they’re done with their food. While the busser clears the table, Gabriel takes Sam’s hand - like he’s done it hundreds of times, which is so sweet it almost hurts - and asks, “Can we go yet?”

“Dean still has the keys.”

“Not anymore,” Dean chimes in, holding up his car keys. “Think fast.”

He tosses the keys, and Sam catches them in his free hand. “We’ll take care of her.”

“Yeah, I know you will. Get moving.”

Gabriel promptly tugs Sam away from the table, and he yelps, quickly getting his footing back. “You don’t have to pull me!”

“I honestly didn’t think I could. You’re lighter than you look.”

“That’s a hell of a backhanded compliment.”

“You know what I mean! You’re ridiculously tall! Now are we going or what?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

As they leave, Castiel calls out, “Have a good time.”

“Yeah, what he said,” Dean adds, but Sam is sure he hears him mutter, “They are so whipped…”

Outside, Sam leads the way to the Impala, giving the hood a gentle pat. “Hey, Baby.”

Hands in his pockets, Gabriel asks, “It’s more than just a car, isn’t it?”

Sam nods, searching for the right button on the keys and unlocking the car. “She was our dad’s, Dean got her after he…you know. With how often we were on the road growing up, she’s always been part of the family.”

“Yeah, Cas says Dean tells him the same thing. Has he ever let you drive without going ‘mama bear’ on your ass?”

Sam chuckles, opening the driver’s side. “When he taught me how to, yeah. But she’s way more used to him, so we’ll see how this goes. Come on.”

They get in, and it’s a little jarring for Sam to not be in the passenger seat, but he gets over that quick. As he puts the key in the ignition, Gabriel asks, “Are you as uptight as your brother, or can I pick the music?”

Sam scoffs out another laugh. “What Dean doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Here,” He leans over to open the compartment with all the CDs. “Knock yourself out. Just don’t make it obvious you were snooping.”

Gabriel sifts through for a minute and finally pops something into the player. Sam barely has to listen to the first line before he drops his head in his hand. “Night Moves? Seriously?”

“It’s your song!”

“‘I was a little too tall, could’ve used a few pounds’ - Very funny, Gabriel.”

“I know, I’m hilarious.”

Rolling his eyes, Sam reverses the car and pulls out of the parking lot. “Night Moves at 7 in the morning…”

But even as Gabriel starts singing along in a way that’s almost definitely meant to be obnoxious, he can’t help but smile.

Now he just has to hope Baby will be good to them.

///

They end up on the Strip, which Sam has heard stories about, but somehow they haven’t come here yet. He finds the safest place for the car - because Dean would kill him if he didn’t - and they get out to explore.

Their first stop turns out to be an arcade, courtesy of Gabriel all-but demanding that they go. As they walk in, he says, “Okay, you can’t tell me you’ve never been to one of these.”

“Uh, I definitely can. We lived out of motels, you think we could afford an arcade?”

“God, your childhood was depressing.”

Sam gives a wry laugh at that. “Wow, we’re off to a great start.”

Gabriel shoulder-checks him before grabbing his hand and moving in the other direction. “Alright, c’mere, Samsquatch.”

Near the corner of the room, there’s a claw machine, so neon it almost hurts to look at. Pointing, Gabriel asks, “You know what this is?”

“I’ve seen movies. I’m not sheltered or anything.”

“Keep telling yourself that. Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do; you’ll try and win something out of there, let’s say, uh, this guy,” Gabriel points out a small green dragon plush through the glass. “And I’m gonna go play skee ball.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, turning to watch him walk away. “Aren’t these supposed to be rigged?”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure it out!”

Sam shakes his head with a bewildered chuckle and turns back to the game. “Challenge accepted.”

It’s a rough go at first, but he gets the hang of the controls fast enough. Then it’s a matter of outsmarting the machine and actually getting the claw to work, which is a little harder, but the effort is worth it when he manages to grab the dragon plush. “Yes!”

He watches as the plush drops into a little cache, and he looks around for a second, then leans down to open the door and grab the dragon. Standing, he shuts the door with his foot and says with a tilt of his head, “Not so bad once you get the hang of it.”

Dragon in tow, he goes in search of the skee ball game, where he finds Gabriel just as he’s tossing his next ball. Gabriel instantly spots the dragon and says, “See, I knew you could do it!”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Gabriel takes the dragon, and Sam smiles as he gives it a squeeze - only to blush furiously when Gabriel leans up and kisses his cheek. “Thanks a bunch. This fella will go nicely with my alien friend.”

Holding his burning cheek, Sam musters a chuckle. “I forgot you still have that.”

“Well, now you remember. I can go get something for you, if you save my spot?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah.” 

“‘Kay, be right back.”

Sam watches Gabriel go, then he shakes the blush off his face and turns to pick up a ball. As he throws it, the woman at the next game over asks, “Let me guess, first date?”

Grabbing the next ball, Sam looks over at her. “Yeah.”

“Thought so. The honeymoon phase is just the best, isn’t it?”

Sam smiles and gets ready to toss the ball, flexing his left hand just to feel the ring on his finger. “You have no idea.”

Gabriel also ends up beating the claw machine, and he gets a plush dog to go with the dragon - naturally, he says, because Sam is a puppy and it just makes sense. Then it’s time to say goodbye to the arcade, so they move along.

They spend the rest of the day exploring different attractions on the Strip, taking some pictures and picking up a few mementos for Dean and/or Castiel. When it starts getting dark out, they wind up at a seafood place for dinner; Sam isn’t a seafood guy, really, but he’ll try anything once.

Once they get their menus, Gabriel starts reading the thing like it holds all of life’s secrets. He holds his menu up for Sam, pointing to one dish in particular as he asks, “What about this one?”

”For you, or-?”

”For you!”

”I mean, it’s fish. There’s not really anything special.”

”Sure, but it has the least calories - I think. It would be better if I had a calculator.”

Sam blinks and asks, “Wait, are you actually looking for the healthiest option?”

”Well, yeah.” Gabriel shrugs. “You always do that anyway. I’m just trying to help.”

”…Why?”

”Why? Jesus, I know Dean gets on your case about it, but come on. I don’t want you to settle for something you’re not happy with.”

Sam laughs under his breath at the part about Dean, but the rest of Gabriel’s words warm his heart. For all that he can, and does, drive Sam up the wall, it’s the little things that show just how much he cares. “Thanks, Gabe.”

”Don’t mention it.”

Sam smiles and gets back to reading his own menu, waiting for the butterflies he’s actually been getting a lot lately to go away.

Luckily the restaurant offers some nice desserts, so he can return the favor.

///

After dinner, they don’t go back to the hotel just yet; instead, they park Baby in the best spot to watch all the lights coming on over the city. As they sit there leaning against the car, Gabriel says, “You know, all around, this was a pretty solid trip.”

Sam looks plainly at him. “Are you just saying that because it was your idea?”

“Well, I hate to toot my own horn, but - no, I’m kidding. Of course I am.”

Sam laughs, briefly dropping his head down on his knee. He runs a hand back over his hair to get it out of his face. “I guess you are right, though. This was just what I needed after surviving a year of law school.”

“Even with-“ Gabriel holds up his left hand; pointing to his ring. “This?”

Watching the neon lights bounce off his own ring, Sam says, “Yeah, actually. I mean, I don’t think anyone wants to end up married after getting blackout drunk-“

They both laugh softly, and he continues, “But it was a lot easier to accept than it probably should’ve been. And honestly? I think that’s because it’s you.”

He tilts his head slightly as he looks at Gabriel, at the lights dancing in his eyes just like they do on their rings. “I meant what I said the other night, you do still drive me crazy. But while I’m here freaking out, you somehow kept your head on straight, and that made all of this so much easier.”

“Trust me, there was a lot of repression on my end.”

Sam chuckles, looking away briefly. “I’ll bet.”

He watches the lights for another few seconds, before biting the inside of his cheek and turning to Gabriel again. “Still, this is where we are now. And, against all odds…there’s no one else I think I’d rather be with.”

They go quiet after that, save for Sam’s heartbeat ringing in his ears. Gabriel has that soft look in his eyes again, and it makes Sam feel all warm inside, pushing him to do something that’s maybe a little crazy. As his hand twitches on his knee, he says to himself, “Screw it.”

He grabs the collar of that ridiculous Hawaiian shirt, pulling Gabriel in for a kiss. It’s sudden and it’s messy, but it’s the kind of kiss that makes Sam’s nerve endings light up, and it’s everything he wants for the rest of his life.

When they pull apart just enough to breathe, he says, quiet and sincere, “I love you, Gabriel.”

Gabriel takes his hand, pulling it away from his collar and pressing his thumb over the ring. “I love you, too, Sam.”

Sam doesn’t know if he’s laughing or crying, maybe it’s both, but they kiss again and nothing else matters anymore. When they next look, Vegas is covered in bright lights as far as the eye can see, and it’s beautiful, everything Sam thought it would be since their first day here.

They take another minute to admire it all before Sam gently squeezes Gabriel’s hand. “We should go.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

And so they stand, only splitting up long enough to get in the car. As Sam turns the key in the ignition, Gabriel puts a hand over his on the console, lacing their fingers together. Sam looks at his ring, then at his own where his left hand rests on the wheel, and he says, “Someday, we need to have a wedding we can actually remember.”

Gabriel laughs, his head briefly dropping against the window. “With our families? It sure as hell won’t be normal, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

“No,” Sam agrees. He takes his hand out from under Gabriel’s and shifts so it’s on top now, pressing his thumb over Gabriel’s ring. “But ‘normal’ is overrated.”

They share a smile and another brief kiss, then Sam kicks it into gear, and off they go.

Chapter Text

             THREE YEARS LATER

Sam adjusts his tie and tugs lightly at his collar, clearing his throat. He takes a moment to psych himself up, letting out a breath and turning to face the mirror.

He actually looks pretty good, he thinks as he tilts his head. The dark blue of his suit really complements his eyes, exactly how Charlie said it would. Sam knows better than to doubt her, but he thinks he’s entitled to being just a little nervous.

He adjusts the collar of his suit, smoothing out a wrinkle here and there. It’s the first time he’s worn one since graduation almost two months ago, so maybe it really does make sense that he feels so awkward. Just as he finally dares to check his watch - he’s shown remarkable self-control, in his admittedly biased opinion - a voice says from behind him, “Lookin’ sharp, Sammy.”

Some of the tension leaves Sam’s shoulders, and he turns to see his brother leaning in the doorway. “Dean.”

“How you holdin’ up?”

“I don’t know, I’m just - You know-“ Sam gestures vaguely. “It - It’s a lot. There’s a lot happening.”

“Tell me about it. Michael and Lucifer keep giving each other the death stare; Cas and I are the only thing keepin’ them from starting shit.”

Sam sighs, lightly pinching his nose. “Are we sure Cas is the youngest?”

“Somehow, yeah.” Dean claps the edge of the door-frame and steps into the room, letting Sam see him in the light. With a brief once-over, he says, “You look good.”

“Obviously,” Dean scoffs with a grin, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “Listen, I know we went over this at the fitting, but seriously, purple?”

Sam chuckles as his brother gestures to his suit. “You know it was Gabe’s idea.”

“What, and you don’t get a vote?”

“Trust me, it’s better for all of us that he was only in charge of the dress code.”

“Still, have you seen Cas? Charlie gave him a green pocket square and now he looks like the friggin’ Joker.”

Sam drops his head in his hand with another laugh. “This is gonna be a mess, isn’t it?”

“You’re probably right. But at least we’ll have fun.”

They share a smile, and Dean wanders closer, dusting off Sam’s tie. His hand drifts up and settles on Sam’s cheek, a rare soft look in his eyes that Sam mostly remembers from their childhood. “Look at you. My baby brother.”

Sam blinks away the suddden pressure behind his eyes. “Dean-“

“Shh. Let me have this.”

Sam mouths ‘okay’, watching as Dean studies every inch of his face. Somehow, it feels even more intense than his graduation. After about a minute, though, Dean lightly pats his cheek and moves his hand to Sam’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Proud of you. Bitch.”

A startled laugh escapes Sam, and he rubs a finger at one of his not-yet-teary eyes. “Thanks, jerk.”

Dean claps his arm and steps back, nodding toward Sam’s left side. “Still feel empty without your ring?”

Sam glances at his bare left hand. “A little. Easier when I know I’m getting it back in a minute.”

“Yeah, I get ya. Hate takin’ mine off, too.”

“Yeah…”

“Is it time yet?”

Sam clears his throat and checks his watch again. “Almost.”

“Better get out there before Charlie hunts you down.”

Sam chuckles and nods, letting Dean usher him from the room. It looks like Dean might be a prophet, because Charlie is there when they turn the corner, armed with a tablet and stylus. “There’s our other groom!”

Dean ducks away as she comes straight for Sam, pointing with her stylus. “You look amazing! The puppy hair isn’t ideal, but you know, it does add something.”

Sam chuckles again, running a hand over his hair. “Thanks, Charlie.”

Pressed against the wall but obviously trying to make it look casual, Dean asks, “How’s Gabe doing?”

“God, it is a mess over there,” Charlie says, pointing behind her with her stylus. “But he’s fine. Last I checked he’s playing a game with Anna.”

Trying not to sound too hopeful, Sam asks, “Can I see him?”

“Why not? Technically you’re already married, it’s not spoiling anything.”

Sam scoffs out another quiet laugh, smiling when Dean gives him a thumbs up. Passing Charlie, he turns the other corner and ducks through the nearest door, taking note of the room.

Michael and Lucifer are sitting on opposite sides of a bench under the window, remarkably civil, but who knows how long that will last. Castiel stands by keeping watch of them, just like Dean said, and Gabriel and Anna sit on the floor, playing some sort of card game. Sam lets himself have his first look at Gabriel’s red suit, before he clears his throat and all eyes turn to him.

“Sam,” Castiel says, while Gabriel is already on his feet. “SAM!”

He throws himself into Sam’s arms, and Sam laughs, instantly returning the hug. “Hey!”

Gabriel grins in that way that just makes him melt, then he looks back and points at Anna. “Rain-check, Annie.”

Already gathering the cards on the floor, Anna says, “M-hm.”

Gabriel snaps his fingers and turns back to Sam. “I can’t believe they actually let you over here! It’s been ten years if it’s been a day!”

“It’s been an hour.”

“And your point?”

Rolling his eyes, Sam lets his hand rest on the small of Gabriel’s back. “I missed you, too, Gabe.”

He kisses the top of Gabriel’s head just to see him smile again, not missing Anna’s quiet, “Aww.”

“I do hate to interrupt,” Castiel calls out, looking at his phone. “But it just turned 5.”

Anna gasps and jumps up from the floor, and even Michael and Lucifer get up and fix their suits. Meanwhile, Charlie skids across the floor and appears in the doorway. “It’s happening! Places, people! Move, move, move!”

As she gestures frantically and runs off, Sam laughs and tells Gabriel, “I think we let her have too much coffee.”

“Damned if she’s not committed, though.”

Sam laughs again and nods, before Castiel says, passing them to leave, “Let’s not keep her waiting.”

“Right behind you, Cassie!” Gabriel calls after him, then he claps his hands together. “My best man has spoken. See you guys out there.”

He leans up to plant a kiss on Sam’s cheek and ducks out of the room, Anna grabbing her flower basket and skipping after him - which leaves Sam alone with his least favorite brothers-in-law. He silently wills both of them not to do anything stupid, but then he freezes as Michael puts a hand on his shoulder. “Uh…”

Michael looks at him, serious enough that he doesn’t even blink. “He’s your problem now.”

Sam slaps a hand over his mouth, biting his tongue before he can laugh. He watches Michael quietly leave, and Lucifer follows him, shooting over his shoulder, “What he said.”

Sam props his other hand on the wall, breathing until he manages to calm himself down. Moving the hand over his mouth to his temple, he says, “God, that could’ve been so much worse. Okay-“

He stands tall and fixes his collar again, taking one last glance at the mirror in the corner before turning to leave the room. Dean falls into step with him instantly, asking as they walk, “Ready?”

They stop outside the grand hall of the venue - which Naomi actually picked out, and Sam will admit she has good taste. Sharing a look with his brother, he nods. “Ready.”

Dean lightly claps him on the back, and they enter the hall, where Anna is throwing her flowers across the aisle and family and friends are still looking for seats. At the back of the room, Castiel is just getting Gabriel into position on the altar, fixing his tie even as Gabriel swats him away - and Sam can’t help his smile, because yeah, that’s definitely his husband. Ushering him along, Dean says, “C’mon, Sammy.”

Even in all the chaos, they get there with no problem. While Dean lingers behind him, Sam goes up the short steps in one quick stride. He nods at Garth, standing between him and Gabriel. “Garth.”

“Heya, Sam.”

Sam glances at Gabriel, gesturing between both of them as he says, “We seriously can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Garth waves it off. “Getting ordained was like a walk in the park! And you know I’m always willing to help out a friend.”

Sam nods with a grateful smile, then Castiel finally steps away from Gabriel to take his spot across from Dean. Sam chuckles as Gabriel glares and Castiel rolls his eyes, waving to get his husband’s attention. “Hey.”

Gabriel looks at him with hearts in his eyes. “Hey.”

Garth clears his throat softly, looking between them. “Shall we get this show on the road?”

Sam and Gabriel share a look, and they both answer, “Please.”

Garth laughs and says, “Alright, then! Everyone, please be seated.”

He claps his hands together, and everybody who’s still standing quickly finds somewhere to sit down, including Anna once she throws her last flower. Sam locks eyes with Bobby in the front pew, returning his proud smile, and he sees Gabriel jokingly waving off a fist-pump from Chuck.

“Thank you,” Garth says. He throws out one arm, then the other. “Friends, family, we are gathered here today to celebrate the Union of Sam, and Gabriel.”

“One they’ll actually remember this time,” Dean calls out, and laughter rings through the room. Sam leans over to punch his brother’s arm, but even he can’t help but smile.

“Yes, thank you, Dean,” Garth says. “You make a good point. Let’s move this along since we’re all so eager to get to the good part; Sam,”

Sam stands a little taller.

“Do you take Gabriel as your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Gabriel beams, just as Garth turns to him. “And Gabriel, do you take Sam as your lawfully wedded husband, for better or worse, so long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

“Then could we have the rings, please, gentlemen?”

Sam instantly perks up, and he can see Gabriel doing the same, as Dean and Castiel take the rings from their pockets. Sam takes the one Dean gives him, looking at the infinity symbol carved into the silver - courtesy of Charlie, who had them workshopped about a month ago. A small and simple change, but it’s perfect.

“The ring is seen as a symbol of everlasting love and devotion,” Garth says. “But again, in the interest of not making these two wait any longer, we’ll just move along. Sam,”

He gestures, and Sam takes Gabriel’s hand, sliding the ring back on his finger where it belongs. Gabriel smiles and returns the favor, and through the corner of his eye, Sam sees Dean and Castiel sharing a fist-bump.

“By the power vested in me by an online certificate,” Garth says, waiting for a few people to laugh before he continues, “I now pronounce you, husbands. You may kiss the groom.”

The room fills with cheers and applause, but all that matters to Sam is wrapping his arms around Gabriel as they kiss. He says after, just loud enough for only them to hear, “I love you so much, Gabe.”

“I love you, too.”

They stay like that, huddled together in their own little world, until a whistle from Dean grabs everyone’s attention. He asks, “Who’s ready for the reception?”

Sam chuckles as a few more people whoop or clap, then everyone starts filing out the door. Garth steps by to do the same, tipping an imaginary cap. “Congratulations, fellas.”

“Thanks, Garth,” Sam calls out as he leaves, and Gabriel adds, “We owe you.”

They finally pull apart, but when Gabriel grabs his left hand, Sam sure as hell doesn’t stop him, letting their thumbs cross over each other’s rings. Castiel gets their attention and says, “We’re very happy for you.”

“Been a long time coming,” Dean adds. “But I know Sam wanted to finish school first, so-“ He waves it off. “Now the party can’t start without the guests of honor, so come on.”

He heads for the door, and Castiel rolls his eyes before following him. Sam looks at Gabriel, who says, “Now it actually counts.”

Sam laughs under his breath, lightly squeezing his hand. “It always counted. Remember it was legal.”

“Well, yeah, but this time everybody who matters was here to see it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. You heard Dean, let’s go.”

They step off the altar, and as they walk, Gabriel says, “I’d still marry you no matter what, though.”

Sam smiles and gives his hand another squeeze. “I know, Gabe.”

When they get to the ballroom where the reception will be, of course it’s already all decked out with balloons and streamers hanging from the rafters. Charlie even found a DJ, who’s already spinning his first record.

For the next half-hour or so, there’s a lot of drinking and some very enthusiastic dancing. Sam accepts the hundredth pat on the back he’s gotten and weaves through the crowd, until he finds Dean and Castiel. “Hey, guys.”

Leaning against the wall, Castiel gives him a nod, while Dean raises his drink from his spot sitting on the steps. “Sammy! Where’s Gabe?”

“Last I saw, Naomi was still pinching his cheeks with her ‘witch nails’.”

Shaking his head, Castiel says, “It’s been years, I’ve told him to stop calling her our ‘wicked stepmother’.”

Dean looks up at him. “Cas, this is Gabriel we’re talking about. When have you ever known him to quit something?”

“Fair point.”

Sam chuckles and sips his drink, then he perks up as Gabriel appears at his side. “Gabe!”

“My ears are burning, were you guys talkin’ about me?”

“Yeah, where were you?”

“Dad and Naomi wanted pictures for the scrapbook. My face hurts from smiling and I am still way too sober.”

Dean snorts and raises his glass again. “Amen to that.”

Gabriel shoots him a finger-gun, and as he sips his drink, Castiel says, “At least Dad is making an effort.”

“Ugh, yeah, I know. It’s taken him years to get here, and I am happy about it. It’s just that he doesn’t have to be all in, all the time.”

“Well,” Dean chimes back in. “Now that Sam can’t use school as an excuse, he can mingle with the in-laws more often.”

Sam scoffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. “I still need my JD before I’m even allowed in a courtroom.”

“You’re the one who said you’re takin’ a gap year.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.”

That’s when the song that’s currently playing ends, and Gabriel says, “Oh, perfect! You know what’d make me feel better?”

Castiel plainly asks, “More brandy?”

“Well, that, too. But here’s what I was thinking.”

Gabriel lets out a sharp whistle, and Sam sees the DJ over at his booth giving a thumbs up. He messes around with his records, then a song starts playing that Sam recognizes instantly, making him laugh into his hand.

“Dude,” Dean says, cocking a brow. “Asia?”

Putting his free hand on his hip, Gabriel says, “I will not apologize for art. Sam, work with me.”

Sam lets out a breath before dropping his hand. “Our wedding, our rules, Dean.”

Dean dramatically holds a hand to his heart before rolling his eyes. “Alright, I know when I’m beat. Cas, let’s go make sure Mike and Lucifer don’t break anything.”

He stands, and as they both walk away, Castiel mutters, “We should probably be counting their glasses.”

“You should!” Gabriel calls after them. “Rookie mistake.”

Then he grabs Sam’s hand and says, “Come on, Anna wants to learn Blackjack and we both know you’re way better than me.”

Sam laughs, letting himself be pulled along. “She’s 16, Gabe!”

“Gotta teach ‘em young!”

Sam just shakes his head and sips his drink, well aware that he signed up for this as far back as that night in Vegas three years ago. And as he gives Gabriel’s hand another squeeze and gets one in return, he knows that even through all the ups and downs, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“It was the heat of the moment…”