So, I have a good friend here on ffnet that I message all the time, and because she's really just the best at keeping me motivated to work on all my WIPs and lets me fangirl and rant and joins in with me, I just had to write something specially dedicated to her. This is for you, Kat.

I do have a couple of things I want to clarify so we're not all confused and I end up with a billion reviews asking me what the fuck's going on:

1. This is an AU set within the frame of seasons 1 and 2; Sam and Dean are still hunters, but major SPN plot points have no relevance (i.e. Sam was never marked by Yellow Eyes or tainted by demon blood, eventual plans for the Apocalypse never happened, stuff like that). Mary died in a nursery fire set by a demon, John spent the next twenty-odd years hunting it and died killing it, and Dean and Sam decided to continue the family business because they'd seen too much to ever have normal lives.

2. Gabriel and his family are not angels, but they don't necessarily not know about the supernatural. His family includes older brother Michael, younger brother Castiel, and younger sister Anna (like in my other SPN fics).

3. Not overly relevant, but by some means Sam gets permission from Stanford to take online courses to get his pre-law degree while he also travels the country hunting with Dean. Just pretend that it all works out, okay?

I think that's it. Onward with the Sabriel!

I Need A Hero

GarryxMrChairFan

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A/N: Written for Katherine A. Jones as a reward for being such an awesome person. Prompts used include bar AU "Dude, I'm gonna pretend to be your BFF 'cause you look really uncomfortable with this inconsiderate asshole hitting on you" (from my personal AU list on tumblr) and "Imagine your OTP at a dance club; Person B is really shy, so to get them to loosen up, Person A begins grinding up on them" (from imagineyourotp on tumblr).

Title shamelessly inspired by the "Fairy Godmother's Song" on the Shrek 2 original motion picture soundtrack (because I just love Jennifer Saunders' version and Shrek is awesome). The song itself has absolutely no relevance to this fic whatsoever.

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"We need to get you laid, Sammy."

Sam heaved a sigh through his nose, simply turning another page of his textbook as he skimmed the words. His hand tapped his pen against his notebook in an agitated rhythm as he pointedly ignored his brother.

"Like, seriously." Sam listened absently to the rustling of sheets as Dean rolled over on the bed two feet from his own. "It can't be good for your dick, man. How has it not fallen off yet? Do you even remember when you used it last?"

Sam made a face down at his book. Seriously, what was wrong with Dean? "What do you want, Dean?" he settled for asking instead, hoping his tone conveyed just how weird Dean was being. From the corner of his eye, Sam watched as his brother sat up from his sprawl over the mattress.

"Let's go out, Sammy! All this stayin' cooped up in the room isn't doin' you any favors."

"Just because you have the libido of a seventeen-year-old doesn't mean I do, Dean." Sam glanced over at his brother with a bitchface. Dean rolled his eyes. "How 'bout you go out and I'll stay right here and, I don't know, finish my homework that's due on Monday."

Dean made a face like he wasn't sure whether to be confused or disgusted. "Dude, it's Friday."

"Your point?"

"It's Friday," Dean enunciated, like Sam was some retard. Jerk. "Monday is a whole weekend away. Like, two days, Sammy."

"It's Sam."

Dean waved him off. "You're still a lil' friggin' shit genius, bitch. You can finish later — we should go out, enjoy a night on the town, pick up some hot chicks or somethin'!" His brother groaned, and Sam rolled his eyes, closing his textbook. "C'mon, Sam! I'm bored."

"That sounds like a personal problem." Sam heaved himself up off his twin-sized motel bed, shuffling over to toss his almost-complete homework on the small desk across the room by the not-much-bigger kitchenette.

A huff sounded behind him. "It's not like we have a case or anything, man. Can't we just relax? Without boring textbooks," he added before Sam could interrupt with his point that he had been relaxing, doing his homework. Just because they were only pointless online elective classes wasn't an excuse to not turn in papers and be on top of doing so.

Sam shook his head with a fond half-smile as he turned to lean against the table, facing his brother. Dean lay prostrate, his limbs hanging off each end of the too-small bed. "Cabin fever already, Dean?" he asked mockingly and laughed at his brother's grunt of denial. "Dude, it's only been a day since we finished off the Djinn." At least neither of them had been caught up in its illusions this time.

"And I didn't even have anything to drink last night," Dean pointed out petulantly, his voice muffled in the blankets. "You owe me that much, bitch."

"Jerk." But Sam pushed himself off the table anyway, going over to his things to slide into his boots. Dean tilted his head up to watch him for a second before jumping up off his bed. Sam straightened after tightening his laces and grabbed his jacket as he walked out after Dean. "First round's on you."

. . .

The whiskey burned as he swallowed the shot in one go, and Sam gestured for another as he set the glass down on the bar top. He gave a quick smile to the bartender as the guy slid another shot towards him, and he picked it up as he turned to survey the place Dean had dragged him out to.

The bar was a bit classier than their usual haunts — wow, Sam, good one — the music still just as tasteless as his brother liked, but familiar nonetheless and able to draw his jumble of thoughts on research and cases and his pre-law studies into more cohesive piles. It let him breathe, and he slouched against the bar top as he downed his drink in a gulp. He set the glass next to his other and ordered a beer, warmth spreading through his chest and limbs, and the slightest haziness filling the back of his head.

He noticed Dean across the room at the pool tables, smiling bright and leaning over as seductively as he could as he played against a couple of guys from the biker gang that had wandered in sometime earlier. Each of his shots sunk into their destined pockets with a crack! as the pool cue snapped forward expertly in his brother's hands, and Sam snorted at the impressed and miffed expressions on the guys' faces as they stood and watched, while the girls around cheered. Show off.

Seeing as his brother was fine with his hustling, Sam let his gaze wander the rest of the patrons. He wasn't really looking for anyone to take him home, but he wasn't necessarily going to turn down an offer, either. He sipped at his beer, in no hurry to lose his higher functions to the buzz of cheap Budweiser, and his eyes travelled over the bodies spread around the room. Most of them were all in the center of the bar, dancing and moving to the mix of rock classics and hip hop played from the speakers, and the rest were dotted around the tables and booths along the walls, with a handful sitting on the stools at the bar top.

Sam's gaze eventually settled on one of the lone guys at the bar top a few seats down from his own. Dirty blond hair, combed back, curled faintly right above his hunched shoulders, jacket a faded and frayed thing that Sam guessed had once been a shade of green. A hand gripped a margarita glass, half-full with some pinkish, fruity-looking liquid, while the other hand propped up his chin. His expression was one of scarcely contained irritation — one Sam knew well from wearing it himself all the time around Dean — his honey-gold eyes glinting dangerous intent as he stared pointedly forward at the back of the bar.

Sam frowned, another swig of his beer on his tongue as he let his gaze linger. An uneasy sensation in his gut had his eyes sweeping over the general vicinity around the guy, and his hand slowly brought his drink away from his mouth as he caught sight of another guy leaning into the blond's space, leering nearly maliciously. His eyes were glazed with inebriation, and Sam continued watching from his seat as the blond pointedly leaned away from the other guy; Sam noticed how much smaller the blond looked next to the bulk of the other, who he was sure was part of that biker gang now that he looked closer.

The blond's eyes were full of a murderous rage as the biker pressed against him, one large hand dragging down the blond's arm to his thigh and squeezing. Sam watched the biker lean his face towards the blond's, his teeth white against his tanned skin as he grinned and licked his lips. The blond jerked away, turning his burning eyes on the biker and letting sharp words that Sam couldn't quite hear push the guy back a few inches before he was nearly knocked off his seat when the biker pushed back, getting right back in his face with a low, feral-sounding growl.

A sudden urge, a pull in his chest that caught him off guard had Sam standing from his seat, rising to his full height — easily a half-foot taller than the biker, broader in the shoulders, too — with one last pull on his beer before setting it on the bar top and catching the bartender's eyes, who gave a pointed glance at the commotion taking place. Sam nodded once before taking four strides down the bar, coming up in between the blond and the biker and swinging a long arm around the blond's shoulders, leaning around to press a kiss to his temple.

"Hey, babe," he greeted aloud in the most lighthearted voice he could dredge up, feeling a thrill of victory when the biker took a step back, eyeing him drunkenly. "Sorry I'm late." Keeping his lips near the blond's ear, he murmured, "This asshole ain't giving you any trouble, is he?"

The blond, who'd gone rigid against him, relaxed slightly and turned in his embrace, looking up at him with grateful eyes and a smirk crossing his lips. He pressed his lips against Sam's jaw. "Jeez, took you long enough!" His voice filled the space between him and Sam with joy and warmth, contrasting shockingly with the dark, seething tone he'd used against the biker. Leaning against Sam, the blond whispered back, "Thank you."

"Hey! I was here first, you son of a bitch!"

Sam and the blond turned back to the biker, who now looked slightly savage and pissed. The biker had a hand once again on the blond's arm, his grip tight and possessive. Sam nearly growled at him, and smirked when the blond ripped his arm out of the biker's grasp, the honey hue of his irises like molten gold as he glared.

"I'd thank you kindly not to insult my boyfriend." The blond's tone was low, smooth like ice, and Sam failed to repress the shiver as a spike of unwarranted arousal shot through him. "I told you I was waiting for someone, and that your advances were neither wanted nor appreciated."

The biker snarled, pulling back a fist, and Sam reacted on instinct. Stepping from behind the blond's seat, he brought a hand up as the biker swung forward, catching the punch in his palm with a grunt. Drunk as he was, the guy's coordination was thrown, and Sam used his size and ingrained self-defense skills to twist the biker's arm behind his back, kicking his knees out and bringing him to the ground.

Leaning forward, Sam brought his lips to hover near the biker's ear, feeling his upper body moving rapidly with his harsh breathing. "I'm going to say this once, and you're going to listen very carefully, you got that?" Sam kept his voice even, letting a venomous undertone coat each syllable, and he felt the biker tremble slightly.

The biker nodded.

Sam sneered. "Good." He shifted, pushing the biker closer to the floor, a grunt escaping him. "Now, you're going to leave my boyfriend alone. He doesn't want you around, and I certainly don't want you around, either. You're going to get up and go back to your friends, or leave entirely, without one more word to either of us.

"You will keep your hands to yourself unless given explicit permission to put them elsewhere, and you will be on your best behavior for the rest of your time here. If I notice you bothering anyone else in the bar, I will not hesitate to throw your ass out before you can even blink. Understood?"

Sam pulled the biker to his feet, releasing him and stepping back closer to the blond, watching with satisfaction as the guy nodded vigorously and stumbled away, heading for one of the empty booths around the pool tables where the rest of his buddies where gathered. Sam kept his gaze on him, and he nodded in approval when the biker sat against the wall, taking a swig of his no-doubt warm beer and training his eyes onto the worn table.

His eyes wandered over to Dean who was giving him the look that asked Everything okay or do I need to kick some ass? and he shook his head. Dean nodded once and went back to his game buddies. Turning around, Sam let a small smile cross his lips as he hopped onto the seat next to the blond, signaling the bartender for a fresh beer.

Grabbing it and downing a long swig, Sam turned to the blond, who was now much more relaxed than Sam had seen him, leaning against the bar top and sipping his margarita with a small smile. "You okay, man?" he asked.

"Very," the blond replied, setting his drink down. "That was brilliant, by the way. Really, thanks a lot, kiddo." His eyes dimmed slightly. "I was this close to making a shiv out of my glass and shoving it in the dickwad's eye socket before you came along."

Sam debated for a moment between laughing and cringing at the image of the clear stem of the margarita glass sucking up the red of human blood as it slid into an eyeball. He flexed his hand against a phantom sensation of sharp instruments slipping into body parts, settling on a low chuckle. "Glad I made it in time, then. Wouldn't want you arrested for manslaughter or anything."

The blond shrugged noncommittally, smirking at him as he propped his chin against his palm again. "What's your name, kiddo?" he asked, a perfect non-sequitur. "Unless you don't mind me calling you 'hero' or something."

Sam laughed and took a quick swallow of beer. "I'm Sam."

"Mm," the blond hummed, giving him a once-over, gold eyes trailing slowly over all six-feet-four-inches of him, "Sam. I like it. I'm Gabriel."

"Nice to meet you, Gabriel."

"Likewise." Gabriel turned around in his seat until he was facing out towards the rest of the bar. He had another fruity drink in his hand as he scanned the crowd lazily, and a soothing contentedness came over Sam as they sat together. "You here with anyone tonight? Good-looking moose like you never travel alone, after all."

Sam about choked on his sip of beer, feeling his cheeks heat at the eyebrow waggle Gabriel gave him. "I'm here with my brother, actually," he finally replied, gesturing towards the pool tables. "He was tired of being cooped up, so I let him drag my butt out."

"Ah," Gabriel nodded thoughtfully. "He the one that's totally dominating over there? Ken Doll?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"Looks like an idiot."

Sam laughed again. "Yeah, he is," he agreed, taking another swig, "but he's my brother. Can't deal with him, can't live without him."

Gabriel smiled, a soft look on his face. "I know how it is. I have two brothers and a sister of my own. They're not as fun as I am, of course, but I love 'em all the same." He paused to take a sip of his drink. "I'm actually waiting on my younger brother. This was supposed to be a night out to celebrate his promotion, but he's a bum and party-pooper." His eyes slid over to Sam, and he leaned over on the bar, looking up under his lashes at Sam in a way that made him feel hot under the collar and tight down below. "I'm glad he didn't make it, though. A gorgeous moose in flannel and denim is certainly not something I'm complaining about."

His blush couldn't be stopped, and Sam shamelessly returned Gabriel's grin with one of his own. "Does that make you the fair damsel in distress, then?"

Gabriel leaned back and laughed, loud and carefree, before setting his drink aside and turning eyes the color of molten gold, deepened to the hue by desire, on Sam. "I like you, Sam," he said, gaze steady, and Sam suddenly found it hard to breathe under the intensity. "You've got a good heart, I can tell. The world needs more people like you saving us from the assholes that want to do us harm." He chuckled. "Everyone should have a moose like you lookin' after 'em."

Sam swallowed, looking away from the heavy golden gaze piercing right through him. He hadn't known Gabriel more than twenty, thirty minutes at the most, and Gabriel had hit deep, even though he couldn't possibly have any idea of what Sam did, of the things he and Dean knew existed that the rest of the world blissfully ignored. It was… nice, in a way, to receive thanks for something no one even knew he did.

"Thanks, Gabe," he said, and he was surprised how easy the nickname rolled from his tongue, as if he'd known Gabriel for years instead of a handful of minutes. "I live to help."

Gabriel grinned. "And I live to spice up life!" Jumping up from his seat, Gabriel took Sam's hand, pulling him up and dragging him across the floor.

"Whoa! Wait!" Sam followed Gabriel through the bodies swaying to the music, allowing himself to be pulled along. "What are you doing?"

They stopped in the middle of the mass of patrons, and Gabriel turned to face Sam, tilting his head back. Sam tilted his down, just now realizing the difference in their height and unable to stop a small laugh. "Dude, you're so short!" Gabriel only came up to a little over his shoulder, almost a full head and a half under him.

"I prefer the term fun-size," Gabriel quipped, tugging Sam to him as he turned around. Sam once again felt the slight blush on his face as he pressed up against Gabriel's back, their bodies melding together smoothly. His hands fell to gently rest on Gabriel's hips as Gabriel began to move them to the rhythm of the pop song playing. "Now, dance with me, Sammoose! Show me your moves!"

Sam stuttered aimlessly as his body swayed along with Gabriel's mindlessly before he finally found his voice in his embarrassment. "I don't really dance, Gabe. It's not really my thing, you know?"

Stabbing monsters? No problem. Arguing pointlessly with Dean? Hell yeah. Eyeing up a good-looking girl or guy and heading home with them at the end of the night? Sign him up.

Dancing to pop songs in the middle of a crowded room? Not so much.

"Aww, is Sammykins shy?" Gabriel's teasing tone made his cheeks heat further though it didn't stop a substantial amount of his blood rushing other places as well, and he flushed to his ears when Gabriel grinded back against his hardening arousal. "C'mon, Sammoose! It's not hard!"

Sam gasped at the shot of pleasure, his grip on Gabriel's hips tightening as he grinded forward into him in time to the beat. Heavy bass now filled the bar as the song changed, and Sam pulled Gabriel close against him as they began moving in time together. His hands trailed over every inch of Gabriel he could reach, sliding up under his shirt and over the smooth skin of his abdomen. Gabriel's hands wandered up to Sam's neck, fingers tangling in Sam's hair and pulling it gently. Hips grinded and they sweated as more bodies crowded around them, the bar filling up as the later hours approached, and Sam let his mind go, thinking of nothing but the body against his, smooth skin and soft hair and sensual movements heating his blood with desire and driving him completely wild.

Hot lips against his pulled Sam out of the haze of pleasure surrounding him, sharpening it to a fine, deadly point as Gabriel's mouth slid over his, licking in immediately and tasting him, memorizing him. Sam's knees felt weak and he gripped onto Gabriel tightly as he turned him around in his arms, no longer moving to a beat. He tasted the tang of lemon and fresh strawberry and the bite of alcohol on Gabriel's lips, full and soft beneath his own. Hands gently caressed his face, brushing over his cheeks and cupping his jaw as the hunger slowed into tenderness, desire into comfort, and overwhelmed at the intensity Sam pulled away to gasp for air.

Gabriel's eyes glowed, the molten gold now a dark ochre full of passion and lust and want and care and kindness and utter need. Kiss-bitten lips quirked at the corners, and Sam was entranced, unable to look away as Gabriel's tongue licked out teasingly over his swollen mouth.

"Damn, Sammy," Gabriel breathed, and Sam didn't even bother to correct him about the nickname — he couldn't. "That was one hell of a kiss, kiddo."

"Gabe…" Sam sucked in a breath, but no other words would come. He couldn't put what he'd just felt between them into something he could speak aloud. Thankfully, it didn't matter as Gabriel placed a finger over his lips, tracing them lightly.

"I know, kiddo." The words weighed heavy, and Sam knew he understood exactly, and there was no need to say anything. Gabriel removed his finger and leaned up to place another, softer kiss to his lips. "I'm your damsel in distress, remember? And the hero always gets a kiss."

Sam chuckled weakly, his arms still tight around Gabriel. Something just wouldn't let him let go. "I'm glad I could be your hero, Gabe."

Gabriel smiled and winked at him, eyes once again a light honey-gold. Sam liked it. "I'm glad I needed one."

END

Notes: "At least neither of them had been caught up in its illusions this time." - reference to 2x20 What Is And What Should Never Be where Dean gets caught by a Djinn and briefly lives his deepest wish of a life where Mary hadn't died.

I'm actually really proud of this one. I enjoyed writing it! I'm thinking I totally left it open to a Destiel side of things if I should feel so inclined, like Cas showed up late after Sam and Gabe were lost among the dancers and Dean notices him and starts chatting him up or something. Or I'll just leave you guys with this. That works, too.

Hope you liked it, Kat~! And all the rest of you, too!