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Title: Four's Company
Author: [livejournal.com profile] mistalagan
Recipient: [livejournal.com profile] beatlemaniac9
Rating: PG-13
Genre and/or Pairing: Dean/Cas, Sam/Gabriel, TFL foursome
Spoilers: Through 5x22, to be on the safe side. AU past 5x19.
Warnings: Polyamory, cracky.
Word Count: 2285
Notes/Prompts: Written for the Team Free Love Secret Lover's Exchange; go check out my gift by [livejournal.com profile] sofiwick!
Sam/Dean/Cas/Gabriel; They are in a four person relationship. Bobby (and/or John) find out/are told, and struggle to wrap their heads around it.
Summary: Bobby walks in on Dean and Gabriel. It goes downhill from there.



Four's Company

It’s hard to miss the odd – pitying – looks Bobby keeps giving him. And, while Sam could write them off as a ‘sorry you went to hell’ or maybe a ‘sorry Rumsfeld Jr. likes you so much, but he’s still just a puppy so don’t be mad’, it’s still a bit unnerving. Not that Bobby isn’t, y’know, loving. In his own way. Only that way generally isn't so - quiet.

He resolves to bring it up with the man on Tuesday, and by Thursday evening he's decided that a great way to avoid doing so for the next hour would be a grocery run. Dean's been clamoring for a pie all week, anyway. (Who'd have thought Cas of all people could cook?) So Sam makes up a list - chicken, pasta, those tiny potatoes Gabriel thinks are adorable, apples, tomatoes, four or five bags of Halloween candy - and tells Bobby he'll be back in an hour and a half.

He's not ten feet out the door when he's ambushed by a short and suspiciously happy archangel.

"I'm not short, Sammy," and Gabriel's reading his mind again, which is all kinds of annoying - "I'm just about average, thanks. And I can't imagine why my happiness should be in any way suspicious." He looks vaguely hurt for a moment, then shrugs and snatches the grocery list from Sam's gigantic pie-tin hands - and Sam did not just think that, Gabriel, quit it - before, impossibly, grinning wider than before. "Food! And you weren't going to invite me along? Aw, you just wanted to surprise me. You're adorable when you get domestic, you know that?"

"Gabriel."

"Well, now that I know, I'm obliged - don't look at me like that, Sammy - "

"Sam."

"No, I’m Gabriel, you're Sam - obliged to help. Whaddya say we go to Whole Foods? You like the place, right? All hoity-toity and expensive. Don't have good candy, though. Eh. We can change that." Even Gabriel doesn't usually talk this much - is he high?

"No, I'm not - and they don't even have one in - "

"Sioux Falls. Yep. Good thing we're not going there."

And before Sam can protest, he's abruptly in a parking lot. In front of a very large Whole Foods. In - where the hell is this? California? "Gabriel!" he hisses, catching the man's collar. "Someone could have seen!"

"Eh, nobody saw. 'Cept, y'know. A couple people. Maybe." A woman in a bright red tank-top is looking at them strangely, and Gabriel smirks. "Know what they will see, though?"

"You are not going to - " his words are abruptly smothered by the warm lips pressed up against his own and the happy little noises Gabriel makes.

The woman is staring now. "I hate you."
--------
Sam's back in Bobby's yard approximately forty minutes before he said he'd be back, with approximately four times the amount of food he was originally going to get. Gabriel flew off to 'fetch my darling little bro, be back soon' a few seconds ago, and Sam's left to struggle through the front door himself.

He's stopped right outside by the angry voices coming through the door.

"…after everything, Dean? You think he's going to react well, being betrayed by his brother and the first lover he's had in years that doesn't eat people?"

Dean's voice is weak. "Look, Bobby, it's wasn't what it looked like - "

"Yeah, he was just giving you a little CPR. Oh, wait, he's an archangel. He doesn't need to - "

"Bobby - "

Which was the moment Sam came sidling through the door. "Um. Hey."

Bobby's face goes from angry to horrified in a second. "Sam. Uh - " Dean's making little faces behind him, a tiny 'help me' escaping from his throat.

Sam goes and sits on the couch, groceries flopping down all around him, and puts his head in his hands. And laughs, and laughs, and laughs.
--------
Gabriel comes back about half an hour later with a slightly damp Castiel in tow, popping into the front room with a snap. "Pastry chef's here! We're all ready to - huh."

Bobby's glaring at Sam and Dean, who are both studiously not looking his way. Or at each other. At Gabriel's entrance, they all look up simultaneously.

"Is something the matter?" Castiel peers out from behind Gabriel, brow furrowed.

"Boys said they had something to tell me," Bobby says. "Said you two had to be here."

Gabriel blinks. "Is this about the moose in the truck? 'Cause that wasn't me."

Bobby pauses. "…That explanation comes second. Sam? Dean?"

"Um." Sam looks at his brother, who's back to not looking at anyone. "Dean. Why don't you start?"

"What, me?" Dean looks affronted at the very idea. "I. I'm not really - you know, Sammy, it was your idea - "

"It was not - "

Gabriel interjects. "It was mine. Probably."

"Right." Sam coughs. It goes on for a few seconds longer than necessary. "Um. Dean wasn't, I mean. Gabriel wasn't cheating on me. Exactly. At all."

Bobby blinks. "Alright. You broke up."

"Uh. No. We're still together. Very together."

"Nightly," Gabriel smirks.

"…Right. Yes." Sam's beet red at this point, and Castiel has moved around to stand beside Dean, who's really, really not looking at anyone now. "Um. We're in a, uh. We all, I mean, Dean and Cas and Gabe and I, we. Have this…"

"What Sam is trying to say," Castiel interrupts, "is that we are all in a healthy and loving polyamorous relationship based upon mutual affection, both physical and mental. Although Dean has shown a distressing reluctance to do much more than kiss Sam in a rather chaste manner."

Sam's head is back in his hands, Gabriel is laughing, Dean's engrossed by the windowsill, and Bobby's mouth is slightly open.

"I need a drink."

That, at least, they all agree on.
--------
"So," Bobby says after the fourth shot, "how'd you idjits come up with this?"

"Cas," says Dean.

"Sam," says Castiel.

"Gabriel," says Sam.

"…Dean? No, okay, it was me." Gabriel is probably the least upset by the events of the night, although he's been trying to convince Castiel that fresh apple pie will solve all of their problems, really, and sulking when his wheedling doesn’t work. "Look, I just - you know - had the idea." He shrugs. "Turned out to be a good one. They usually are," he adds.

Bobby's still looking at him intently. Too intently.

"All right, all right! See," Gabriel's smirk drops away. He looks almost penitent. "Angels live in flocks, right? Mated flocks. And us archangels, the original four - we were everything to each other. Everything. We taught the littler angels to fly, right? First flight’s special. But we taught each other first. It was all tangled up wings and crashing into asteroids, but, I mean. You can't imagine the bond." His voice acquires a hint of nostalgia. "And while angels don't have sex, exactly, there's a sort of - grace-melding thing we do. Like touching souls. And that was Heaven. For me. When Luci, well, y'know, it just all - went away. I just wanted a taste of that again, and when I met you guys – it was like I’d found it. So I thought I'd - I thought I'd try."

Castiel's tilted his head to one side. "Gabriel, I don't think - "

"That's bullshit," Sam says at nearly the exact same time as Bobby. "Dude, you told me you knew I thought Cas was kinda hot and you wanted to try something with Dean. And bribed me with expensive chocolate. Really expensive chocolate.”

Dean makes a face and mutters something along the lines of “Such a girl, Sammy” before Sam’s bitchface of doom shuts him up.

Gabriel pouts. “Hey, I thought I could put a sad, romantic spin on things. You told me you like that!”

“Girl.”

“Shut up, Dean. Gabriel, I said it wouldn’t hurt to at least help me clean up after the thing on the Impala – “

“What thing on the Impala!”

“No worse,” Castiel interjects, “than the other thing on the Impala, Dean.”

“Yeah, okay, but – but you don’t – you don’t go around – “ He sputters off into a silent rage.

Bobby’s turned green, and downs another shot. “Don’t need to hear it.”

“Right. Sorry, Bobby.” Sam swishes his beer around in the bottle. “Um. So, I mean, the world was ending. I figured it wouldn’t hurt. And by that time I was, I mean, I was considering – “ He trails off.

“Jumping into the pit,” Dean snaps.

“…Yeah. Thought I could have one last hurrah. And it wasn’t like – I didn’t think it would work. I mean, Cas and Dean have, like, a profound bond, right? And after they hooked up? Dean didn’t even, like, flirt. With girls. Hot girls. Not even that one waitress in Illinois with the huge – that one waitress who gave him extra pie. And Cas died for him and everything. Which is kinda huge. I mean, Gabriel just sorta turned me into a car and psychologically tortured me for half a year’s worth of Tuesdays.”

“Hey! I saved you from those vampires. And the witches who wanted to make you their personal slave.”

“Yeah. After I put out.”

“Not my fault you’re so easy.” At some point, Gabriel had conjured up a bright orange drink with a little monkey figurine attached to the rim, and now he takes a slurp. “Saved you from my ex before you put out, though. That counts.”

“You were saving your own ass just as much, Gabe.” Dean’s sneering at the monkey on the drink as if it were Zachariah himself. It promptly gains a suit and bald patch.

“Beside the point – “

“Anyway,” Sam says loudly, “I just sorta, I mean, asked Cas. I might have been slightly drunk.”

Castiel nods. “You were, in fact, significantly intoxicated. So was I.” He pauses. “I believe your question also came in the form of a kiss. And your hand on my backside.”

Bobby takes another shot.

“And Cas told me he had to go ask Dean. So I figured, crap, well, that’s the end of that. Went to bed. And then I woke up an hour later with two angels grinding up against my – “

“Sammy?” Dean interrupts, “remember when I told you to skip the full frontal? I think that applies when talking to Bobby.”

“…Sorry. Again. Um.”

Castiel continues. “I talked to Gabriel first. He told me some rather – sweet reasons for initiating the whole affair – “

“What, like the bullshit he just fed us now?” Bobby asks.

“No, in fact. Reasons which I believe were much more sincere, and which I suppose I should – “

“Aw, c’mon, Cas! You were drunk. You’d believe anything I said.”

Castiel levels a glare at him. “ – should refrain from repeating now, in case it were to embarrass him. Unless, of course, the popular accord demands that I do so.”

“…Wait, he had real reasons?” Sam looks vaguely hurt. “I never heard these.”

“That’s because there aren’t any, okay? Told you. He was drunk. He was human. Basically. Gullible-written-on-the-ceiling.” Gabriel’s monkey has disappeared, replaced with a small herd of cows and a little green man. The drink is now a revolting shade of purple. He looks up at Sam. “Completely selfish, hedonistic reasoning on my part. I was just lucky to be hanging out with a bunch of saps like you.” He shrugs, smirks. “Really lucky.”

“I believe,” Castiel says slowly, “although I cannot paraphrase exactly, that Gabriel told me that he worried about Sam, and wished only for his wellbeing. That Gabriel was aware that sexual intimacy carried some taint for him after his experiences, and wanted to change that - that Gabriel wanted him to realize that there were three people who would never leave him, no matter the cost. That Sam was envious of the relationship that Dean and I shared, and that Gabriel was afraid he alone could never give that much. I am not sure his reasoning was entirely sound. But the sentiment was clear.”

Sam’s eyes are round and wet. “Gabriel. I didn’t know you – “ Gabriel bats Sam’s hand away.

Gabriel’s looking intently down at his cows. “Yeah, yeah. You’re a weepy drunk, you know that? And I told you. All bullshit.”

“I know, Gabriel. I know.” And then Sam scowls. “I’m not drunk.”

“Sure, Sammy.”

Bobby clears his throat. “So. Gabriel got sentimental and decided that more – decided that a foursome was the best way to go. Sam drunkenly groped Cas, who ran off to convince Dean – how the hell did you do that? – and then you all did – stuff. And this has been going on for a year?”

“Dean was surprisingly easy to convince, once assured he would not have to, quote, directly molest his baby brother. And once Gabriel paid Chuck a visit to ensure that a Becky Rosen never got wind of the event. And yes. A year. Approximately.”

“And none of you idjits thought to tell me until I walked in on you?”

A subdued chorus of ‘no’s’ sounded across various alcoholic beverages.

Bobby snorts. “Idjits.” He stares moodily at the table. “Can’t say it’s easy to think about. And if any of you start getting into any level of detail in front, there’ll be celestial buffalo wings on the menu. But.” He raises his glass. “What can I say? You’ve been through enough shit. I’m not about to give you any more. Don’t hurt each other, use protection, don’t get him pregnant, etc., etc. Cas?”

“Yes?”

“Make me some goddamn pie.”
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mistalagan

March 2012

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