literature

SPN: Pick-Up Lines

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Sam sighed, a little puff of air escaping from his mouth as he did so.
The brisk Autumn air was nice for a mid-morning stroll, but now, as it approached the mid-afternoon, with no telling what shenanigans were going on between Cas and Dean back at the house, and having read his book from cover-to-cover-to-cover yet again, he was stuck on this park bench, all alone.
   “Hey baby, did you polish your pants?”
He wasn’t alone anymore.
Begrudgingly, he turned toward the trickster angel sitting next to him, that stupid glue-on moustache crooked on his upper lip in a failed attempt at looking seductive.
   “Cause I can see myself in them.” he finished, his eyebrow waggling. Sam fought the urge to crack a smile at the hideously awful pick-up line.
   “We’re really doing this?” he asked.
   “Hells yeah,” the angel came back with a grin. “Park Bench. First one off is a loooser!”
   “Is this book late?” Sam shot back.
   “Why?” Gabe said with a grin, looking forward to where this was going.
   “Cause it’s got ‘fine’ written all over it.”
Gabe cracked a smirk.
   “Touche. You must be a high jumper--cause you make my bar rise.” he said with a horrifically failed, flirtatious wink. Sam snickered.
   “Hey, I lost my number. Can I have yours?” he said.
   “If you ever got a parrot, would you put it on this shoulder?” Gabe asked, pointing to his left shoulder. “Or this shoulder?” he said, wrapping an arm around the taller man’s broader shoulders.
   “I wish I was a predicate so I could be the direct object of your attention.” Sam said with a smile.
   “My lips are like Skittles. Wanna taste the rainbow?” Gabe asked with another eyebrow waggle. Sam clapped a hand over his own mouth to prevent laughter from spilling out.
   “Do you have a map, because I got lost in your eyes.” he fired back.
Gabe grinned.
   “Do you like fireworks?”
   “...Yeah?” Sam said with hesitation.
   “Good, cause here they come!”
Before Sam had a chance to react, the angel’s lips crashed against his. The kiss was so deep that Gabe pushed Sam off the bench and pinned him there on the ground before they both had to pull away. Gabe grinned triumphantly.
   “You lose!” he said, and then disappeared in a puff of smoke. As Sam coughed and waved the dust away, there was a single scrap of paper on the ground.
His number. Feeling good about quite a lot of things, he began to walk back towards the house.
In the bushes, Dean whistled.
   “Hot damn. Never knew Sammy was such a good kisser.” he said, before extending his palm. “Pay up, Cas.”
The younger angel smiled.
   “With pleasure, Dean.”
And met him full-on on the lips.
I have no idea where this came from.
A Sabriel, which, for the record, I kinda don't ship (I can't see the chemistry) but was requested by a friend. With a little dash of Destiel at the end.
For those who don't know, Park Bench is a theatrical improv game where you have to make the person sitting on the bench get off of it by any means necessary--be it strange, funny, or downright disturbing.

Sam and Dean Winchester, Gabriel, Castiel, and Supernatural (c) Erik Kripke, the CW
© 2013 - 2024 I-Bethany
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