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“I won’t do it.” Your voice commanded finality. “You can’t make me.”
Gabe snorted, “Yes, I can’t make you do anything. But this would be so much fun!” He put an arm around your shoulder and gestured to the wide room like it was a majestic scene. “Imagine the boys’ faces when they realize that you are, in fact, a woman and not a bookish slave.” He looked at you in a deadpan way. “They’ll lose it. Haven’t you ever wanted to see Sammy lose it over you?”
You blushed and wrenched out of his grasp. “It’s not going to happen, Gabe.” You sighed and brushed a piece of hair out of your face. “I have free will.” you mumbled.
“What? Free will, Y/N? You’re crazier than I am if you’re invoking that nonsense now. What harm will it do? If it doesn’t work, then you’ve just earned a free day of exposed skin.”
There was a tap on the door and you jumped. “Y/N, he isn’t bothering you, is he?” Sam said through the door.
“No, I’m good.” You called back, crossing your arms while Gabriel made syrupy kissing noises. “Gabe’s just having a moment.”
Gabriel called through the door. “Sammy, you’re going to want to get in on this. Y/N is on fire!”
You sighed deeply and pushed open the door. Sam was standing to close that you almost hit him. “Oh. Sorry, Sam,” You gestured back to Gabe, “He gets like this sometimes.”
Gabriel winked at Sam. “Don’t worry, chief, I’m not polluting this desert flower.”
You frowned and turned to look at him. “Chief?”
Sam frowned too. “Why is she a ‘desert flower’?”
Gabe shrugged. “For chief, I am trying to give Sammy the clear respect that he deserves for being such a class-a gentleman all the time. And you, sweetheart, are a thing of beauty growing up out of the mud.”
You were taken aback. “Thank you?” You said slowly. Although he was your best friend, Gabriel sometimes spoke a language only he could understand.
Gabe winked at you. “Think about it, kid.”
You glared at him while Sam looked confused. “Bite me.”
Gabriel vanished with a whoosh of wings while his laugh echoed around the hallway.
Shaking your head, you looked up at Sam then away. “Well, I might as well do that research now.” You said lamely. Sam wasn’t looking at you either. Before Gabe had reappeared, it hadn’t been this awkward between you. You patted his arm in a final sort of way and went back into the other room before he could say anything.
When you heard Sam walk away, you put your head in your hands.
Damn angel. You grumbled. Now look at what you’ve done.
You looked around the floor of your room for the papers that you needed. Gabriel had trashed your room bopping around and levitating your possessions so that you couldn’t concentrate while you researched. Then, he had dared her to do something that was both morally questionable and crushing to your self-esteem: daisy dukes.
It wasn’t like you didn’t have a pair. At one point or another, you went to a concert and found them to be very conducive to the summer heat. Men had looked at you differently then, with a sort of hunger that made a hole in the pit of your stomach. It hadn’t been flattering, it was just embarrassing. Gabriel had been oblivious to the whole thing, naturally, and you had gone back to your motel room regretting how much skin strangers could see.
Not to mention, you had gained weight in between now and then. Sam probably wouldn’t find you attractive even if you got dolled up in female moose attire. You looked down at your traitorous legs with a glare. Flab. It was all flab.
Something whined in the air before coughing and spluttering. You walked up to the air vent and put a hand to it. The cool trickle of the air had become nonexistent. Swearing under your breath, you hopped down from your dresser to collect your papers. You might as well put them on now. It was about to get as hot as balls.
“Jesus Christ!” Dean yelled from down the hall.
Sam tried to calm his brother down. “The bunker is really old,” He reminded him. “Maybe it just needs a tune up or something.”
“A tune up?” Dean scoffed. “Sam, it’s not a damn car. I don’t know how to fix this.”
You leaned on the doorway to the kitchen where the boys were eating. “We could ask Gabriel for help.” You offered. “We could you some archangel juice.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “No. We’re not going into debt with him.”
“What’s wrong with Gabe?” You crossed your arms. The heat was making everyone surly already.
Dean threw up his hands in dismay. “I’ll go get the toolkit.” He glanced irritably at the two of you and strode out of the kitchen.
“Dean will fix it, Y/N.” Sam said. “All we need is a little patience.”
Now you scoffed, “Sure, Sam. Whatever you think is best.” You turned to go.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sam called after you as you left the room. “If you want to ask your boyfriend, then go ahead. Just don’t come complaining to me when he disappears again.”
You stopped in the hallway and turned to face him. “Gabriel may be inconsistent about some stuff, Sam, but he won’t refuse to help me.” You paused and then turned back. “And he’s not my boyfriend. Please.”
The air seemed to heat up when Sam came back with, “You two hang off of each other all the time.”
You sighed. “One, I don’t. Two, he can’t help the way that he is. Being a dumbass is his shtick. It’s helped him through a lot of bad stuff.” You looked at Sam and tried to silently appeal to his better nature.
“So that forgives him from being a dick to everyone, including you?”
“He’s not a dick.” You protested. “Well, he is, but that’s just who he is. At least…” You shook your head. “No, forget it. You don’t like Gabe, and that’s fine. I like Gabe, he’s my friend.”
Sam stared angrily at you. “At least what?”
You shook your head and turned to walk away. “At least he knows I’m alive.” You said bitterly.
To that, Sam said nothing. As soon as your door closed, you set the latch. Breathing heavily with anger and the heat, you began to strip. You’d show Sam. You’d show them all that you weren’t a ‘bookish slave’, to borrow the phrase from Gabe. It was inconceivable to you that Gabriel could be anything but a friend. He liked to flirt, but how could Sam honestly think that Gabe was your boyfriend of all things?
You dug into your dresser for the hated piece of material. If it was possible, the damn thing had even shrunk. Hopefully it would still be okay around the waist, but the length was still questionable. A moment of true adolescent brainlessness had caused you to buy it. There were artistic rips on it and the pockets hung out. This was unfortunate hunting attire, and it was clear the minute you touched them that they were the handmaidens of Satan.
You slipped them on without a thought and pulled a thin tank top out of the same drawer. The temperature was rising and you had to stay cool. The mirror in your room seemed to highlight every imperfection. Your skin was pale and there was an itchy zit on the edge of your ass that was almost visible if you bent over. Dropping your stack of papers, you tried your best to check out the view from the mirror. Well, you reasoned, it could have been worse.
Unlatching the door, you realized that it had been a little while since your argument with Sam. It was the perfect time to go into the kitchen and grab an ice water. Fear clutched at your stomach. The least amount of clothes that Sam had ever seen you wear was the .5 second glimpse he had caught of you post shower back in Little Rock. You blushed red at the thought. That had been completely embarrassing. You crossed your arms over your stomach and glared again at your thighs. Tomorrow you’d start a diet. But not yet, because now that ice water had changed into a Coke. If you stayed to think about it any longer, it probably would change into an ice cream.
You strode out of the room confidently. The bunker had grown to a stifling heat, and you felt slightly dizzy as you walked into the empty kitchen. “Oh,” you said aloud. Sam wasn’t there.
Feeling that your plan had been foiled, you banged around in the kitchen grabbing a cup and some ice and a coke. You paused when you saw that the pop was all the way in the back. Swearing to yourself, you bent over and reached out to grab it. You channeled your inner porn star by grumbling just a little and wiggling a little more until you had the coke in your hands.
“I’m opening happiness, bitch.” You grumbled before popping open the can and taking a long sip. Some of it dribbled down your chin and you wiped it away hoping that neither brother had seen you.
So, of course Sam had to be standing in the doorway. Why should life become less complicated? His face turned beat red when you turned to see him staring at your ass. A little pop spilled over onto your arm from the shock.
You ran your finger down the length of the trail of coke and sucked the soda into your mouth. “Want some?” You said to him.
“What?” He scoffed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “No. No I’m good.”
You walked over to the counter and poured the pop into your glass. “Crap. Maybe I should get one for Dean. What do you think?” Without waiting for a response, you repeated your slightly pornographic and questionable show of getting another drink. “Is he in the control room?”
Sam blinked rapidly. “What?”
“Is—Dean—in—the—control room?” You were still irritated from your fight earlier, so your voice was deeper than normal. “You okay, Sam?” You had a coke in either hand and tried to look intimidating. The two of you were only a few inches apart.
Doubt began to splinter in your mind. You could have looked fat or maybe this whole act was a useless demonstration. Sam probably didn’t care at all. “You know what; I’ll just leave this in the fridge for him.” All the confidence that you had felt before dripped away. “He probably wouldn’t want me bothering him now anyway.”
You turned to walk back to the fridge when Sam grabbed at your wrist. The drink sloshed a little and spilled on the ground. “Crap.” You said. “I’ll get it.”
You took another sip from your own drink and moved to put the other in the fridge.
“I got it.” Sam had already grabbed a rag and was scrubbing at the spill like it were blood and somebody had whipped out a black light.
You walked over to where he was mopping up the spill and took a sip of your drink. “Sammy, it’s ok. You don’t have to attack the ground.”
On his knees, he looked up at you with big eyes. “I know.”
You looked away from him. “Well, I’m going to go now.” Your entire body felt stupid. This had been a pointless exercise. Sam was definitely uncomfortable, and so were you.
“Wait.” He stood. Your breathing automatically felt shallow. He was so much taller than you, and seemed to dwarf you by comparison. “Y/N, I--” His eyes dropped down to your legs again and you felt yourself blush.
“It’s so hot,” You tried to explain. “I know I look bad. I’ll go change. Don’t worry about it.”
His hand slipped out to grab yours. “Y/N, you didn’t let me finish.”
You smiled flippantly, “My greatest strength.”
He shook his head. “That’s not it.” Sam seemed to steel himself. “I do see you. Even when you don’t dress like,” He looked you up and down to make his point. “like this.” A thought seemed to have perturbed him. “Did Gabe put you up to this?”
You shrugged, “He dared me to do it. I know I look stupid, Sam. Gabe was right, I guess.”
He frowned, “Right about what?”
You smiled sadly. “I wearing daisy dukes didn’t make you ‘lose it’. He thinks that you’re secretly crazy about me.” The words sounded dumb coming forth from your lips.
Sam breathed out a laugh. “For once, I think Gabe was right.”
“Well, stop the presses. This is a historic moment.” You looked up at his lips and then his eyes and forced yourself not to look away.
Sam guided your hand up to his chest, over his heart. You could feel it thundering away under the thin t-shirt. “Can’t you see what you do to me?” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Even though it was sweltering in the kitchen, you could feel your temperature rising. “You’re brave,” You turned to look away, but he gently guided your face back towards his. “And you’re smart, except for when you follow Gabriel’s advice,”
You breathed a little laugh.
“I mean it.” He said, “You’re beautiful and fantastic and every minute I spend with you makes me even crazier about you.”
You looked down to your attire. “Was this the straw the broke the camel’s back?”
This time, he didn’t look down. “No.”
You felt deflated, although he had already whispered such sweet words into your ears. “You mean this didn’t work? I just wanted you to feel like I do.” Another blush swept over your cheeks. “You don’t have to pretend for me.”
“Oh, God, Y/N,” Sam closed his eyes, “Haven’t you been listening to a single word I’ve said?” He angled your body closer to his and you could feel the heat coming off of him. When he opened his eyes, his pupils were blown up larger than you had ever seen them before.
“I am—certifiably crazy—in love—with you. I wish you could see that.”
A type of magnetism was pulling you forward. You leaned up against him and placed a kiss on his chest. “Then show me.” You bit at your lip and smiled up at him.
He groaned filthily and tilted your head up towards him. Threading his fingers in through your hair, he kissed your lips like he was dying for a taste. When you opened your mouth to give him more access, the strangest thing happened.
The air turned back on.
Dean cried out triumphantly from somewhere else throughout the bunker. “The Men of Letters can suck it, I’ve conquered the bunker.” He pushed into the kitchen, and, seeing you and Sam, quickly left with a blush.
You broke away for air and smiled as Sam began to kiss your neck. Moaning slightly, you said, “Great, now it’s going to get cold again.”
Sam looked down at you and smiled, “I can fix that.”