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05 January 2011 @ 06:09 pm
[twitfic compilation] Wipe off that angel face (and go back to high school) 2:4/4  
Title: Wipe off that angel face (and go back to high school)
Volume 2: You Gotta Be Honestly Sincere (Chapter 4 of 4)
Author: tiptoe39
Rating: PG
Summary: Sam/Gabriel High school AU. WIP. Done through twitfic / twitlonger. Thanks to jabber_moose for an amazing title!!

Volume 1: Bully and the Beast
One | Two | Three

Volume 2: You Gotta Be Honestly Sincere
One | Two | Three |

Gabriel's heart is hammering. He doesn't think he's gonna be able to keep himself together in time to make it back to rehearsal tonight. What the hell was that? Since when does Sam take an interest in his love life? They never used to talk about this kind of thing. It was a verboten topic since Sam went out with Jess. When they broke up, there was a sort of assumption that Gabriel, or his friendship with Sam, had something to do with it. So they just stayed off the topic. School, TV, their families, weird ghost stories, secret dreams -- all these are safe fodder for conversation. Romance? Don't go there. Until the other day. That day Sam asked the big question. Gabriel thought it was a one-off, just to dispel the rumors, but it looks now like he was wrong.

Why is Sam poking around such dangerous territory? Gabriel's scared stiff. What if this all blows up in his face?

He'll have to tread with caution. He'll talk about the show and that's it. A reminder to Sam of what he said. No drama that's not on a stage.


Sam will wait. He can wait. He doesn't need to deal with this. He's lived with his feelings for Gabriel for weeks now, without feeling the need to do anything about it. And this is a really important, stressful time in Gabriel's life. Sam is the one who convinced him to do this in the first place. It would be cruel to do something to screw that up. It'd make Sam a real jerk.

But God, Gabriel's face when he talks about the play, how excited he is. Sam's fingers itch so hard to touch his glowing cheeks, to pull their mouths together. He sits on his hands night after night, his eyes glued to Gabriel's face, and it just gets harder and harder.


Production week is coming up. How did six weeks pass? Gabriel can't believe it. Somehow he's made it past midterms and costume fittings, somewhere along the line he memorized his lines, and everything is so exciting right now, he's more nervous than he's ever been that something will go wrong at the last minute.

"Do me a favor," he says to Sam the Wednesday before production week starts.

"Sure." Sam is full of his usual goodwill.

"Don't come to rehearsals next week."

If a morose basset hound had wandered in, it wouldn't have the biggest, saddest eyes in the room. "Why?"

"Honestly? Because you're a distraction."

The puppy eyes get a thousand times worse. "What? How?"

Gabriel frowns. "I spend the first two hours of every rehearsal looking forward to seeing you. I need to concentrate."

"Oh." A pleased flush creeps over Sam's face. "Really?"

"Really. It's a pain." Gabriel does his best to sound annoyed. But Sam is grinning at him, and for an electric instant Gabriel grins back. The air glows between them.

He wrenches his gaze away. "So don't show up. Got it?"


Monday of production week. They have a halting, stilted run-through of the first act. Five o'clock rolls around. Sam doesn't show.


Tuesday night and Sam has a test tomorrow. He couldn't go see Gabriel if he wanted to. And he wants to. But geometry is a harsh mistress. He pictures Gabriel on stage, flushed and exuberant, and it makes him both grin and ache.


Wednesday. Things are starting to feel like they might come together after all. Gabriel is rocking his part. Then, during act two, Vic is on stage, singing "Baby, Talk to Me":

Must you be
Oh, so far away from me?
It seems so wrong this way,
Talk to me.
And if you miss me,
Tell me so
Are you lonely?
Tell me so
Say you love me,
Tell me so
Let me know.

Gabriel's eyes burn and he turns away from the stage. He picks up the phone and thinks about calling Sam. But he can't think of what he'd say.


Thursday at seven p.m. The show opens tomorrow. Twenty-four hours and all will be well. After this weekend, it'll all be over and they'll be free. Only a little while longer.

Seven-fifteen and Sam is in Dean's room. "I need you to drive me back to school," he says.


Nine o'clock and they're done, finally. Done and leaving, knowing that tomorrow when school is over they'll run home, take quick naps, and report back at school at six to prepare for opening night. Their last rehearsal is done.

And Sam is there.

Gabriel stands, tongue-tied, in the hallway. The others file past and are gone before Sam moves.

"I told you not to show up," Gabriel says.

"I know," Sam says. "You told me no drama before the show, too. But I don't think... No, I know I can't wait any longer, Gabe."

He keeps approaching. Gabriel is still fumbling for control over the situation, or at least his racing heart. "I'm in the zone here. You're gonna break my focus--"

And consider his focus broken, because all he can see is Sam's face, all he can feel are Sam's fingertips sliding under his jaw. His lips purse around Sam's name, but there's no air left to say it. Because Sam's lips are on his.

Sam's lips against his. Sam's breath in his mouth. Powerful, Insistent. Fingers against his face. It's so much, it's so overwhelming, it's everything Gabriel ever wanted and he can't even concentrate on it, whether it feels good, because it's such a surprise and it's so not what he was expecting right now. He tears away, pushes himself back and stares at Sam, horror in his eyes.

"I told you!" he says, and his voice shakes. "I said don't do this to me, this one week of all the weeks, don't screw things up, just leave me alone for one week--"

"I couldn't," Sam says, pulling at his arm. Gabriel goes with it, can't fight it. Hands tug him close. "Gabriel, I really-- I really want to be that guy you like-- but I have to know, even if it ruins everything. Tell me, just one way or the other, just tell me--"

Gabriel's eyes slide closed. "Jesus, Sam," he whispers. "Jesus. You stupid idiot."

They're alone in the hallway. If a janitor has passed by, he's been quiet. Even whispering, Gabriel can hear the echo of his words. And Sam's, at full voice, rings around and around in his ears. He's losing his balance. He reaches out, grabs Sam's shirt, and drags himself upward as he pulls Sam's down.

"Tell me," Sam says again, and his lips are too close. Gabriel grabs the scruff of his neck and pulls him in, and their mouths are on each other again. This time, oh God, this time he can feel it all. Excitement and heat and electricity, settling down into the pit of his stomach, making his toes curl and his fingers shake. Sam's breath and mouth warm, the thrill of their closeness. All of this and the kiss barely lasts, only a few seconds, and then they're torn apart again, reeling, breathing heavily, eyes alight.

"Gabriel." Sam's fingers still clutch his arm.

A smile creeps across Gabriel's face, slow and patient as dawn.

Sam lets himself laugh. Shaky, small. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Gabriel flushes red, lays his hand on Sam's. "Yeah. It's you."


The smallness of Sam's voice makes Gabriel laugh. "You sound like a chihuahua."

"That's what you have to say?" But Sam can hear his own voice squeak. "OK, so I sound like a chihuahua."

"I like chihuahuas," Gabriel says. As though that makes it all better. Sam laughs softly and slides his hands around Gabriel's shoulders. Gabriel can't help but lean into it. "You realize you completely fuck me up, Winchester," he murmurs.

"Nah." Sam's lips ghost across his upturned cheek. "I make you a better person."

Gabriel sighs. Sam catches his breath between soft lips. They kiss, gently, exploring. and they're both trembling and sighing by the end of it. Eyes and smiles meet each other.

"I guess I should warn you," Sam says. "I think I'm gay."

Gabriel snorts out a laugh.

"Feels good to say it, though."

"So, uh, Sam," Gabriel says, playing shy. "You wanna go out sometime?"

Sam plays along. "What, you mean, like, on a date?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"Only if you promise to respect me in the morning."

It's been thirty whole seconds without a kiss. Too long. They rectify that.

"Hey, Sam?"


"How'd you get here?"

"Oh." A glance over his shoulder. "Dean drove me."

Gabriel starts. "Is he waiting out there?"

"Nah. It was, like, two hours ago. I told him to drop me off."

"How the hell are you getting home, then?"

"What? I don't know. I thought I'd ask you for a ride." A blank look. "How are you getting home?"

"I usually hitch a ride with Vic..." And his eyes round out. "Oh."

"I don't have any quarters, man." Sam looks balefully at the pay phone.

"I have my cell on me--" He stands back, picks it out of his pocket and stares, open-mouthed.


"No batteries."

"So what, we're stuck at school?"

"The hell you are!"

They both turn around. Dean's standing in the doorway, car keys jangling. "Mom made me come back and get you. Come on, you two." And he turns tail and marches right out of the building.

Sam and Gabriel look at each other. Then they follow.

On the way home, their hands touch gently in the back seat. "I kind of wish we had been stuck at school," Gabriel murmurs.

Sam nods agreement. "It's OK," he says. "We've got lots of time."

Gabriel wakes up on Friday morning feeling like everything in the world is brand-new. He turns over, hugs his pillow, and closes his eyes again to better remember the feel of Sam's hands curled around his waist, the gentle and perfect press of his lips. God, it was so good, so much like flying, like they'd just sprouted wings and left the world reeling far below.

"You look very happy today, Gabriel," Raphael says at the breakfast table. Dad's still sleeping, and as usual, Michael has taken it upon himself to have breakfast ready for his brothers.

"My play opens tonight." Gabriel sounds a touch defensive. Raphael rarely says anything without it being an accusation of some kind. There's no way in he'll Gabriel's telling him, or any of his brothers, about him and Sam.

He's nervous about what happens when they meet in homeroom. He doubts Sam has come out to many people, so they'll have to play it like nothing has happened. How many people will they be able to fool, and for how long?

This is the first unfairness of liking someone of the same sex. A new couple gets together and normally it's the talk of the school. But the assumption on the gay end of the scale is that you start out closeted. You get none of the congratulations or the envious stares of your peers. It sucks.

Gabriel and Sam grin at each other stupidly for a few seconds when homeroom starts. Then they turn away and spend that ten minutes talking to other people.

In the hallway, later, they meet briefly. "This is very weird," Gabriel says to him.

"I know!" Sam cards his fingers through his hair, a motion Gabriel desperately wants to feel on his own scalp. He looks up enviously. "But it's cool. You have the play tonight."

"Yeah. I'd almost forgotten about that." Gabriel says. "Like I said, you're a distraction."

"Well, break a leg."

"Sam." Anxious fingers fly out to catch his shirtsleeve. "You're coming, right?"

Sam flushes. "Of course."

Gabriel isn't sure if that makes him more or less nervous.


The evening rolls around and Gabriel is definitely on the "more nervous" end of the scale. Jo is applying his makeup (she keeps telling him to sit still, which is hard when you have a pencil pointed smack at your eye) and he's having some real trouble with the concept that when he goes out there tonight, nobody's gonna stop him or give him a second chance. This is it.

And If he screws this up with Sam? There will be no second chances for him, ever.

He thumbs through the script absently while waiting for the auditorium to fill up. His eyes fall on the lyrics of Conrad Birdie's first song, the one he's been singing for two months now. It is written to be a kind of brainless, generic Elvis number, but today the lyrics jump out at him.

~When I sing about a tree,
I really feel that tree.
When I sing about a girl
I really feel that girl,
I mean, I really feel sincere.~

Well, sure, why not? Right from Conrad Birdie's lips. He just has to really feel it and it'll all be fine. And even if it's not, at least he can say he's been honestly sincere.

He goes on stage that night with slicked-back hair and a killer attitude and has an absolute blast. When they reach the final bows, the audience jumps up to applaud him. And when Sam greets him afterward, Gabriel gives him a huge bear hug and smears makeup all over his cheek.

"Thank you," he says.

Sam pulls back to look at him. "For what?"

"Everything," Gabriel answers. "Absolutely everything."

End of Volume 2

Next: Volume 3
Friendship Caught Fire
Melaniemelalucci on January 7th, 2011 06:23 am (UTC)
Awwwwwwwwwwwww. <3 <3 <3 <3
Tiptoe39tiptoe39 on January 7th, 2011 12:54 pm (UTC)
precisely the reaction i was going for XD thanks!
Melanie: very happy Melmelalucci on January 8th, 2011 04:49 am (UTC)
You're welcome! :-D
Laurenjabber_moose on January 18th, 2011 06:46 pm (UTC)
I just made a sound that shouldn't be made by humans, dissolved into a fit of coughing, then resumed the sound. omg ♥ Love
Tiptoe39: Sam - Jaredtiptoe39 on January 18th, 2011 07:36 pm (UTC)
Sorry about the coughing fit but I do wish you'd previewed said sound for me when we met the other day *giggle* maybe next time XD
Darkamber: SPN Becky squeedarkamber on January 18th, 2011 07:46 pm (UTC)
*makes happy dolphin noises*
Tiptoe39tiptoe39 on January 18th, 2011 07:51 pm (UTC)
yay!!! *hugs*