Keeping the Boys Safe

You flung the door open and sat down in a kitchen chair. The others were staring at you with an open mouth, even Bobby. You swiped Dean's beer and sipped it, giving them a snarky look. Putting it down, you said, "Can I help you, or do you just oogle anyways?" None of them said anything. Finally, Bobby started to clap slowly. The brothers joined in and you laughed. "I have never seen anyone stand up to him besides me. Especially not someone your age. You've got guts, kid," Bobby said. You smirked and shushed them. John came through the door and sat down cross from you. "I'm starving. What's to eat, Bobby?" you asked casually. Sam reached behind him and put a box of half eaten pizza in front of you. "You're welcome, America," he said dryly. You snorted and took a bite. "I'm going to bed here soon. 

"Which bedroom am I supposed to be sleeping in?" you asked with a mouth full of pizza. "Any one of them but the one upstairs in the back. The boys'll move for you," said Bobby. You swallowed and said, "No way. I'm not kicking them out. They're bigger than I am and don't need back pain added to their list of problems. Either I'll sleep on the couch or I don't mind sharing with someone. Who takes the biggest bed out of the boys?" you said. He shrugged and you turned to them. "Usually Dean since he's the oldest, but we switch now and then. Doesn't matter. But I flail and might shove you off the bed, so you might want to go with him," said Sam. Raising a questioning eyebrow towards Dean, he winked. "I'll never mind, sweetheart," he said flirtatiously. You rolled your eyes and got up. "Good night, guys. I'll see you in bed, handsome," you said jokingly. Dean slapped you on the side of your thigh as you walked by and Sam made a gagging noise. You heard the older men snigger, but you didn't care.

The bed was still kinda small, but you weren't surprised. Bobby didn't seem like the luxury kind of guy. Dropping the bag on the bed, you sifted through it for an oversized shirt that belonged to your dad and some short shorts that you always wore to bed. Pushing the rest of your stuff to the floor after you grabbed a book, you made yourself comfortable on the bed. It was a little stiff but better than the motel one. You slipped under the covers and opened your book. Old fashioned literature always made you tired, so you had only brought along your complete edition of Sherlock Holmes. You'd been meaning to watch the BBC edition, too. About a quarter way through Dean came into the bedroom. You were too into it to notice his entry until he slid into the bed next to you. You gave him a noticed grunt and didn't say anything. "Scoot over, hog, before I lay on top of you," he complained. "You wanna hear what I'd do to you if you did?" you said blankly. He made an approving noise and you finally put the book down, your finger keeping your place. You turned to him and said, "I'd sharpen fifty pencils, put a rubber band around said pencils, cram it lead facing down your throat, then punch the erasers." without cracking a smile. His eyes widened and then he let lose a deep laugh. "Okay, I won't touch you," he promised. You smiled a devious smile and then went back to your book. After a while, Dean's breathing became rhythmic and you put down the book. Turning off the light, you snuggled deeper into the covers and fell asleep.

Your eyes flew open and you felt the warm body pressed close to yours. It wasn't Dean because this person had a shirt on and he hadn't when he'd crawled into bed. The bed was softer than anything you'd ever felt, softer than a cloud. It was dark, but a faint glow showed you a face you knew. "Gabriel..." you whispered. "Hmm?" he replied. You gave an exasperated sigh and rolled over to try to get away, but something was caging you in. It was like a wall of the same material as the bed, and it was giving off a little glow. You raised a hand to it and stroked it gently. Looking back to him, it looked like they connected to Gabriel's back. Realization struck you. "Your wings. Jesus, Gabe, let me  out. I want to see them better," you said, pressing on them lightly. He lifted one and you rolled out under the gap. You were shocked to see that there were six of them and the smallest one was bigger than he was. They were golden, matching his hair, and the tips were darker, more like his eyes.You reached out and ran a hand through the feathers. His face was pulled up into a smirk with a faltering stare. You tugged gently on one of them to see what he'd do. What he did was he dropped his head and groaned softly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," you said, pulling your hand away quickly. He reached out and grabbed your hand, pushing it back to his wing again. "Keep going, cupcake," he begged. It wasn't a demand, you knew you didn't have to, but you liked his reaction. 

Twisting your hand back in his wings and you pulled gently. This was better than you'd expecting. If you weren't sure you were falling for him before, this really sealed the deal. Something told you it wasn't right, that he'd live forever and leave you looking like an extreme cougar, but you just didn't care. You took another step closer to him and reached one hand behind him to feel the feathers at the base of his wings. They were softer than the others and apparently more sensitive. His hands balled in the sheets and the wings started to glow a little brighter. You kept one hand on the more sensitive feathers and reached up to get the higher ones. His seemed to know your intentions and made them drop to your height. The tips were perfect lines and almost sharp. You could see how they could be dangerous when moved fast enough. Brushing your fingers against the ends, he stood up to his full height and took a step closer to you. Your chests were brushing now. One of his fingers moved your chin to draw your attention away from the wings and to his face. "You're mine to keep safe, and Dad knows this is so wrong, but I'm falling for you. Say you are, too, please," he said in a small voice. In reply, you put a hand around the back of his neck and pulled him down to you. 

Your lips hit his in a flurry of movements, and he responded immediately. One of his hands looped your legs around his hips and another one picked you up by the back of your thigh. His kisses were sloppy and desperate, the want and need behind them showing. You let your hands flow back into his wings. A delicate finger traced around his small feathers, causing his hips to buck upwards on instinct. "Father, (y/n), say you're mine," he gasped between kisses. You nodded furiously, too far gone for words. "Yours, yours, Gabriel," you breathed at last. He kissed down your neck, finding your sweet spot with ease. You knew there'd be a mark there tomorrow, you just didn't care. He fell back against the bed and brought you down on top of him, kissing you softer now. Each one sent a jolt through you. "I'm still mad at you for getting me without my permission," you mumbled against his lips. He gave you one last long, sweet kiss before dropping you to his side. "I'll never apologize. "'Cause I don't mess up," he replied. You laughed and laid your head on his chest. "Good night, Gabey."