Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Author Notes: Written for morganoconner's birthday. Many thanks to cageyklio for her betaing.

MARK OF THE SOUL

There were definitely worse ways to wake up, Sam decided, as Gabriel lavished attention on his nipples. He couldn't think of many more enjoyable ones either at that moment as Gabriel sucked and licked his way up Sam's body before greedily claiming his mouth. Sam rolled his hips impatiently. Gabriel had made him shameless.

"Pushy," smirked Gabriel with hazy eyes.

"You're complaining? Really?"

Gabriel started sucking a bruise on Sam's neck instead of a verbal response. Sam's eyes rolled back. It was a really good thing that he and Dean now regularly got separate motel rooms. He didn't want an audience nor did he want to witness whatever it was that Dean and Cas were doing together.

Gabriel's voice teased him in tandem with his tongue and teeth. "Ready to really get this party started, Sammy?"

Sam choked out a laugh. Gabriel hadn't been restraining himself since he'd joined Team Free Will and started regularly sleeping with Sam to keep him occupied but Lucifer-free. An idea that a mortified Sam had refused at first and that Dean had gotten a lot of mocking mileage out of until Castiel had mentioned that it could be their one good shot at keeping Lucifer at bay and Sam had admitted that, yes, he was pretty much willing to try anything at this point, despite Dean's loud angry objections. Anything was better than Lucifer.

Surprisingly it worked and even more surprisingly, Sam soon found he was looking forward to it. Gabriel turned up everyday, with the expected amount of leering and glee, daring Sam to keep up with him, and somehow making it a crazy sort of almost adventure that kept Sam's mind off everything else. One memorable occasion had involved the enormous table in the great hall of a castle, several centuries ago in a country that hadn't been specified, when there was a feast going on really close by. There'd been laughter and grease and candles going out.

Sam had learned to trust Gabriel, and the initial sharp awkwardness and embarrassment (from Sam) had slid away into a routine of pleasure and banter and breath-stealing fun. It made Sam feel oddly safe.

Gabriel grinned, slithered higher up, and got a handful of Sam's hair so that he could angle in better for a hard searching kiss. Sam couldn't be blamed for how dazed he was when Gabriel eventually released him. Sam dug his fingers into Gabriel's back in retaliation. He could play that game too.

"You're learning," Gabriel was breathless. "I'm so proud."

Sam's thoughts spun wildly. It felt like those nights when Gabriel told stories from history that only somebody who'd been there could tell so colourfully - battles and blood and sacrifices as well as glorious paintings that spanned ceilings and inspired masterpieces, incredible decadent food that weren't eaten off plates, and every pantheon of gods that Gabriel had been involved with. Debauchery and lazy summertime and life in dizzying shades. Gabriel remembered it all. It was amazing. He was amazing.

Sam gasped as Gabriel's skilful hands went to work. It was a consistent breathless hot slide of togetherness, communion even. It tethered him, gave him a craving that was always fulfilled, always satisfied, always incredible. But more than that, he could rely on it. It kept him sane, he needed it. Maybe that was because he was sleeping with an archangel, but Sam was more inclined to believe it was because it was Gabriel, who obviously loved sex and seemed to like drawing Sam into all kinds of pleasure in an increasing variety of ways and wiping out any thoughts of Lucifer. He had a lot to thank Gabriel for.

Gabriel chose then to do something unexpected with his hands and Sam was overtaken by a swell of I love this, him...

Him.

Everything inside Sam slowed down. Love. He loved Gabriel.

On some normal level, it was obvious and made a lot of sense – Sam was sleeping with him, frequently, enthusiastically even, and they spent a lot of time together, drawing them closer in some way. But when had his life ever been normal? And, a voice in his head painfully reminded him, he'd enjoyed frequent sex with Ruby without feeling all this.

It was familiar – like emotional sweeps of Dad and Jess and Dean - and at the same time, explosively different. The urges he felt for Gabriel to stay, and how now he wanted to slide inside every part of the archangel and just bask and enjoy and have everything. So much, all for Gabriel. It didn't feel as strange as it should. Sam kind of wanted to burrow into it and shout.

Also, Sam realised just as quickly, he couldn't. He was damaged goods - craving something, anything, that usually meant pain and destruction for everyone around him - and Gabriel could conjure up whoever he wanted. It was too much to hope that Gabriel would see this as anything more than a thoroughly enjoyable apocalypse prevention measure.

It was a horrible numb dead end. That felt familiar too.

Gabriel slowed his ministrations. Shit, Sam was in love with an archangel who could read his thoughts.

"Winchesters and their issues," Gabriel laughed softly. "Need to buy a clue, Sammy?"

He caressed Sam's rib cage, mouth moving over his chest. Tender and deliberate. New, in fact, and meaningful. Sam could feel himself trembling, he was pretty sure his heartbeat was audible. The way Gabriel was looking at him was all fond exasperation.

"I don't take just anybody to the eighth century," Gabriel grinned at him. "You're practically wearing my letter jacket, baby."

Sam's brow furrowed, his heart thumping with huge impossible hope and disbelief and really? Gabriel laughed.

"I'd carve myself into your ribs," his gaze locked on Sam, his eyes intense and his mouth curling in a wanton amused smile. "Run through your veins so that nobody could ever be mistaken. You're mine, Sammy."

His hands kept roaming and Sam felt as though every part of him was being caressed, touched in a whole new revelatory way. Love. Not hopeless apparently, for once. Before Gabriel could say anything else, Sam hauled him up and took possession of his mouth hungrily, wanting him to really know, to feel it. It was I love you, even if you are an asshole who can read my mind.

Gabriel laughed as they parted, briefly resting his forehead against Sam's. Sam smoothed his hands down Gabriel's back. It was like there was an extra spark in the air, elevating everything, and he really wanted more. His mind was still trying to wrap around the fact that Gabriel wanted that too. Really?

Clearly the archangel liked whatever he saw or heard inside Sam because the next moment he lunged to run his teeth over Sam's neck and Sam was seeing stars behind his eyes before he hazily realised that Gabriel's hand on his hip was getting hot. More than that, it was like it was searing into his skin.

"What is…..?"

"Giving you a reminder, Sammy. This is an intervention. You want this?" Gabriel worked kisses up to Sam's mouth. "I want to hear you."

Sam swallowed. His hip felt like it was on fire now, the pain almost pleasure. Gabriel's eyes were dark and fierce, desire coming off him in waves. Sam managed a nod, then words, his voice wrecked, his mind full of who was touching him.

"Yeah, I want…..this…you."

It was like an electric current had gone through him. Sam shuddered, his whole body tightening and then unscrewing, bit by bit. Gabriel was a constant, murmuring endearments and filth in his ear until Sam couldn't tell the difference, dragging his lips over every square-inch of Sam he could reach. Sam held on.

Then all Sam could feel was release and joy and pain. When the spots cleared from his vision, Gabriel was lounging on top of him, hands possessively mapping out Sam's body. Sam's skin jumped with pleasure.

And his hip really hurt. He glanced down and almost yelped. There was a familiar handprint scorched into his flesh.

"Gabriel…..?"

"You're mine, Sammy," the archangel's eyes seemed on fire with something that made Sam's breath hitch. "Without separation, return policy, or time limit. I don't share, not ever."

Sam flushed, heat crawling up his insides. He could feel the throb of pain from his hip, self-doubt and loathing still prickling at him, but at that moment insane happiness and downright love for the impossible creature on top of him overwhelmed it all.

He pulled Gabriel in, sealing their lips together; trying to fit everything he was feeling into the motion. Gabriel gasped against him, hands shaking. When they came up for air, his eyes were filled with wonder and heat and that was all Sam saw before Gabriel started attacking his neck.

"Thought you'd already marked me?" Not that Sam was complaining, arching into Gabriel's touch.

"Oh, I did," Gabriel's smirk was out in full force. "This is for fun, and to annoy your brother."

Sam's reaction got drowned out in pleasure as Gabriel fitted his hand to the brand and then all Sam could think was a greedy thrum of mine mine mine, a sentiment that Gabriel whole-heartedly returned in biting bruises across Sam's skin. At some point, Sam was definitely going to return the favour, in a really obvious place.

It was as though he was seeing everything differently now and he revelled in it. He was surrounded, cocooned. He could see Gabriel everywhere; feel him imprinted on his skin, that craving bubbling hotter and harder than ever. Sam was looking forward to giving into it, as frequently as possible. It made him want to start praying again. It made him want to worship.

-the end