Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural nor do I make any money from these writings. I wish I owned Jensen and Richard though! (Hell, throw in Jared and Misha for good measure!)

There was *this place* where I forgot to do *this thing* and this is the result!
wornoutbirks (on livejournal) caught me and prompted with " Dean and Gabe argue over the last slice of pie. Your choice to make it slashy or not." Oh, I made it slashy my dear, 'cause that's how I roll. Sorry if there is too much Sam but I think everything is funnier though Sam's "woe is me" narrative but once I added him he took over the story. (In my opinion there can never be too much Sammy!)
Also this is my first Supernatural fic... Yay! I always thought I'd start out writing Dean/Cas but all my plot bunnies were Sam/Gabriel and now my first post is Dean/Gabriel. Yeah, not sure how that happened myself.
By the way let me know if I "Australianed" anything... all my writing so far has been in British fandoms which I find slightly easier to write for.

'I am warning you right now Winchester, that pathetic hero worship thing you've convinced my brother to comply with ain't gonna work on me. So back away right now and nobody gets hurt.'

'You got two chances of that happening Chuckles… Slim and none. And don't glare at me like that. We both know you won't harm a single hair on my ruggedly pretty head.'

Sam gallantly resisted the urge to faceplant into the door in front of him. He had heard them at it from the other side of the parking lot. Why him? He might have started the apocalypse but surely that wasn't enough to warrant this level of punishment.

All he wanted after saving the world (and yeah, he had helped with that, thank you very much, repaid some of his debt, so this whole thing was so terribly unfair), was to live a semi-normal life with a little hunting and some salt and burns on the side. A house, picket fence, a dog and saving a few people as a bonus. Was that really too much to ask?

'Well, I hate to disappoint you Princess but your head's about as rugged as a kitten. Add a wig and a bit of lippy and you'd make a rather cute girl… Hey, now that's a thought!'

'Don't you dare Gabriel.'

Apparently it was.

Sam sighed and decided that it was better to get it over with. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to the motel room and prepared to prevent World War III.

Upon entering, Sam immediately had two pairs of eyes directed towards him quickly, before they returned to staring at each other. It made Sam almost wistful for the past (he swore he would never snicker or complain about it again) because compared to the intensity between Dean and Gabriel, the eyesex between Dean and Cas had been barely PG-13.

Disney rated staring didn't make him reach for the brain bleach.

'Things would go so much easier for you if you just gave in Deano. I don't have a shitload of patience and when I get bored I get creative.'

'If you think your idle threats are enough to make me surrender you have another thing coming Shorty. Don't you snort at me, I'm not stupid, I watch TV, I know phrases.'

With a face only one who has to spend an inordinate amount of time surrounded by obstinate, emotionally repressed assholes can pull off, Sam surveyed the battleground.

His brother and the archangel were tense, their bodies in a semi-crouched ready-for-action stance as they moved round and round the motel room table, at opposite sides, eyes locked on each other. Each looking afraid the other would dart forward if they lost eye contact.

And sitting right in the middle of the table the two were hovering around was a box. A mostly empty pie box. With one slice of blueberry pie left.

Well, thank heavens for that, thought Sam. He had been worried as he had made his way across the parking lot that all the yelling and posturing, that he could have heard from the other side of town mind you, was over something TRIVIAL!

Was he a Nazi in a past life? Maybe a puppy puncher? Because, seriously, the apocalypse didn't even last long enough to have built up this kind of bad karma.

'Listen here you overrated pigeon, I paid for this pie. I brought it back to the room. Now if I want to have the last piece, then I freaking well will. You're damn lucky I shared with you in the first place.'

'Well aren't you a special little snowflake? The only reason you're alive to enjoy your precious pie is because I continually save your butt. With absolutely no thanks. Consider it reparations for services rendered. Plus it's just manners to offer your guest the last piece.'

'Being a guest implies you were invited in the first place Numbnuts.'

'Oh, I'm sorry. Here I was thinking that without my help the world would have gone down the crapper. Next time you're having an apocalypse and don't want me to intrude, you just let me know Sweetheart. I'll be more than happy to let you get your ass handed to you.'

Dean was reaching for Ruby's knife, which he had hidden strategically in the back of his pants, and that was not going to end well. It never did

Sure, he couldn't actually hurt Gabriel but Dean seemed to find the stabbing part rather therapeutic. If he could get enough of a drop on the archangel, he usually managed to get two or three good jabs in before Gabriel retaliated.

Last time he had turned the knife into a hot pink hairdryer. (Which, apparently, was for Sam's "luscious locks", and really, why was he the one being mocked when Dean was the one going stab happy. Sam's life was about as fair as a ring toss game at a dodgy carnival.)

It had taken a week of pleading and apologizing on Dean's behalf from Sam and I-am-confused-about-what-you-have-done-but-it-makes-my-heart-frown headtilts from Castiel before they got the knife back in its original form.

Sam still maintains that it was Dean giving the former trickster the silent treatment that tipped the scales.

Deciding it was time to step in, stop it before it really started and save millions of innocent lives, Sam approached the combat zone. He moved slowly, hands raised and with all the caution of a Celine Dion fan at a Slipknot concert.

There are only so many times that you can be "snapped" into having your very own C-cup chest or find yourself dodging just in time to feel the bullet whizzing past your ear before you develop a defense strategy.

'Guys! Come on. Lets just all take a few deep breaths and think about this. Dean, would it really hurt to let Gabriel have the last slice. We can go and get another one tomorrow that you can have all by yourself. And Gabe, really, you're arguing about a piece of blueberry pie when you can snap anything you want into existence. You could just make more of it if you wanted.'

'It's the principle Sammy!'

He really hated it when they talked together like that. It was like twins only with a totally creepy undertone.

'Well, perhaps you could cut it in half and share?'

Okay, so he didn't exactly need the looks they shot at him to realize that that was one of the dumbest things he had said in a long time. However, it wasn't Sam's fault that he kept forgetting he wasn't dealing with reasonable mature adults. Their appearances were deceptive.

Besides, he was getting desperate. He was tired, he was on edge and this whole kindergarten-pulling-pigtails thing was getting a little ridiculous.

'Look kiddo, your brother here is just going to have to accept that the slice is mine. It's a poor substitute for the appreciation, respect and awe that I should be receiving but it will have to do. I know it's hard for someone with his diminished mental capacity to express themselves.'

'You know what, Gabriel? Bite me! I'd appreciate you a hell of a lot more if you weren't such an annoying, obnoxious douche every time you did something even remotely helpful. Oh wow, you opened a door. It doesn't mean the sun shines out your butt.'

'If that's the kind of thanks I get for being a gentleman, I think I'll just be taking my pie and leaving you to think about your hurtful words.'

'Gentleman my ass! And for the last time, it's my freaking pie.'

Sam had never been overly motivated by the "make love, not war" slogan but all the talk about ass had managed to take his cracked self-restraint and shatter it into several billion pieces.

'FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THE WORLD, WOULD YOU TWO JUST FUCK ALREADY AND GET IT OVER WITH!'

Had he just said that out loud?

Apparently, he had.

He may have even shouted it.

Shit.

Sam decided that he would rather not see the bullet or smiting coming and jammed his eyes shut. He waited. Several long moments passed. Risking it, he peeked.

And they were both just staring at him. Maybe he wasn't going to die. That had to be a good thing. Then Gabriel's face morphed into a smirk and Sam could practically see the light bulb above the archangel's head. Oh why couldn't he die?

Before he had time to blink, Gabriel was across the room, had Dean pressed against a wall and was doing his best to convince the taller man that kissing him back would be a great idea.

Dean on the other hand was all wide-eyed and flailing. He also seemed rather shocked that, with his smaller frame, Gabriel was able to manhandle him so easily. Which made Sam kind of agree with Gabriel on the whole diminished mental capacity thing because, dude, archangel.

It was almost funny seeing Dean panic like that and Sam almost laughed. At least until he heard Dean make a small little moan. Then the hunter was closing his eyes and kissing Gabriel back.

It was passionate, intense and so much like a train wreck that Sam couldn't look away. Until Gabriel began reaching for Dean's belt.

Running from the room whimpering "my eyes" does not make him a prude nor a big girl, despite what Dean might say.

Slamming the door behind him, Sam turned and ran straight into Castiel. Literally. Yeah, there would be a bruise tomorrow.

'Were our brothers… but don't they hate… I'm not sure I understand…is this a human thing because Gabriel's not… does this mean they're...?'

Talking about it would only make it real and he was trying for selective amnesia.

'No Cas, just…no.'

Putting his hand on Castiel's shoulder Sam began to lead the angel towards the Impala. Although not fast enough it seemed.

'What the hell Gabriel?'

'Your brother said we should share it.'

'I don't think this is what he had in mind… wait, my boots are still on… Dude, it looks like a Smurf.'

Therapy. So much therapy.

'Come on Cas. Let's go for a drive and I can teach you some important things about being a little brother. First lesson is how to mock hickeys 'cause I have a feeling it will come in handy. Plus I know where we can get some awesome pie.'