wolfish_willow

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His higher brain function is a little muzzy, though, and it takes a minute to realize what it means that his lover is out of bed when the sun's just barely peeking over the horizon and the alarm isn't set to go off for hours.

The clatter of something heavy and metal sounding – pans, his mind supplies helpfully – followed by a muffled, strained curse confirms it and he's on his feet, hissing at the cold hardwood floor beneath him.

He tugs his too-big flannel pajama bottoms higher on his waist and runs a hand through the hair he knows from experience is sticking up in multiple, embarrassing directions.

A quiet, scrubbing sound reaches him and he picks up his speed, walking down the hall with long strides worthy of his lover.

The sight that greets him when he enters the kitchen breaks his heart and he mentally sighs, careful not to do so aloud and frighten the man he loves who's currently on his hands and knees, scrubbing at the tiled floor of the kitchen with a cleaning brush Gabriel was sure he'd thrown out after the last incident.

Sam's long arm stretches in front of him, reaching as much of the floor as he can before sliding back, muscles bunching with the well – over-practiced movements.

But Gabriel can see the tension in Sam's body, knows the exact expression he's wearing even with a curtain of chestnut locks hiding his lover's face from view.

Determined concentration with an almost resigned fear mixed into lines etched across his forehead, beautiful hazel eyes squinted and shuttered and trying to block the rest of the world out; straight white teeth biting absentmindedly into his bottom lip harder and harder as time passes until he bleeds.

But Gabriel isn't letting it get that far this time. They've - Sam's been doing so well and he refuses to let this go on.

Sam doesn't hear him when he steps into the kitchen, feet slapping soft across the tile. He doesn't even twitch until Gabriel crouches in front of him and presses his hand over Sam's on the brush, halting his movements. His lover's shoulders tense, hunching in and he lowers his head, further shielding his expressive face from Gabriel's eyes.

"You don't have to do this anymore, Sammy," Gabriel whispers into the quiet of the room. Sam's hand is smooth where he strokes soothing circles with his thumb. He repeats the calming gesture until the hand under his starts to relax its grip on the scrubber, until Gabriel can curl the rest of his fingers around Sam's and pull it off the brush and up to his mouth.

Finally Sam lifts his head, shoulders relaxing gradually, and blinks. Long lashes kiss incredibly high cheek bones in rapid flutters and in the next moment clear hazel eyes meet Gabriel's before blinking again. Sam's eyes stay closed longer this time, forehead crinkled and face pinched like he's in pain, but Gabriel waits it out and soon enough the most beautiful eyes in the whole world focus back on him, though they're wet and shiny in a way they hadn't been just moments before.

"I'm never going to be free of them, am I?" His voice is small, low and quiet and everything Sam used to be and nothing like the man he's starting to become. The man he was always supposed to have been.

Gabriel takes Sam's chin between his thumb and forefinger, pulling him in slow and kissing him as gentle as he can manage; just a dry, reassuring brush of lips. When he pulls back, he slides his hand from Sam's chin to cup his lover's face, still twining their fingers together in his other hand. "Yes you will, Sam," he promises, wiping away a stray tear falling down Sam's cheek with his thumb. "What they did to you was wrong, but you'll get past it."

"I don't know if I can," Sam confesses, just as quiet as before but something like hope lightening his words and Gabriel is so grateful that he's able to bring that hope out in Sam after what his so-called family put him through for so long.

"I know you can, and we both know I'm always right because I'm awesome." Gabriel smirks, lips melting in a smile to match the one that lights up Sam's face. "Now what'd you say we go back to bed for a couple of hours, it's unseemly to be up at such a God-forsaken hour, don't you think?"

He stands, using their joined hands to tug his lover up with him and lead him back down the hall and into their welcoming bed.

As soon as Sam's back hits the mattress, skin tanner than it'd been when they met contrasting starkly against the pale cream color of the sheets, Gabriel rolls over top of him, arms on either side of the halo of hair his lover's head creates above him. "You're perfect," he breathes over bow-tip, worry-bitten lips. Sam scoffs, a harsh sound of disbelief that Gabriel kisses quiet before lifting up enough to look into glittering hazel eyes. "I love you," he says seriously, repeating himself when Sam shakes his head like he doesn't believe it, can't believe it. And Gabriel doesn't blame him. It can't – and won't – be easy for Sam to get over years of his family, people who should love him unconditionally, treating him like nothing more than a servant. Looking at him like something they'd scraped off the bottom of their shoes.

But now Sam's away from them. He chose Gabriel and got himself away from them and some nights or mornings end up like this one, with Gabriel walking in to find Sam back to old, ingrained habits of cleaning every inch of the house when it's already spotless, shoulders tense and expression resigned to his efforts not being good enough.

And on mornings like these – and every night and morning in between – Gabriel plans to make Sam see that he's more than what his family has done to him. That he's the best, strongest, bravest person Gabriel has ever met and will ever have the fortune to meet again.

So he leans in before Sam can protest those three little words again and devours his lover's mouth with his own, skimming a hand down the taut flesh and sinewy muscle beneath him, rolling with the buck of Sam's hips and responding in kind until they've built up a smooth, familiar rhythm.

Long legs wrap around him, tightening over his sides and Gabriel releases Sam's mouth to bury his face in bared skin of his lover's neck with a moan. He nuzzles just behind Sam's ear, pulling back enough to suck the lobe between his teeth, blowing warm breath over the sensitive shell and reveling in the way Sam arches beneath him, back bowed and hips jerking against his.

Sam's strong hands rub over his shoulders and up his neck, fingers curling into his hair before sliding back down and clutching at his back like he might fly away. Like Gabriel is the only thing keeping him grounded. Something Gabriel will be glad to do for Sam for the rest of their lives.

Their rhythm stutters and shakes the nearer they get to release, heated fabric between them adding to the friction of each thrust. Gabriel runs trembling hands down Sam's sides and back, gripping Sam's ass and biting down in the juncture of neck and shoulder, just the way he knows drives Sam crazy.

Sam comes with a soft cry of Gabriel's name, fingers digging into Gabriel's thighs through his flannel pants. Another jerk of his hips and Gabriel follows Sam into blissful oblivion, collapsing onto his lover's chest when it feels like his brain has shorted out in pleasure.

When the world comes back into focus around him, the wet spot in his pants has grown uncomfortable and he grumbles quietly to himself – smiling like a goof on the inside at the sound of Sam's amused huff of laughter at his antics – as he kicks them off, using a dry pant leg to halfheartedly wipe the rest of mess off of him. Sam's already done away with his own he finds out when he pulls the man closer, tangling their bare legs together and releasing his smile when Sam wraps them up under the comforter together.

Gabriel tucks his head into Sam's neck and breathes deep, closing his arms around his lover's waist at the same time Sam's lock around his shoulders and tug him impossibly closer.

"Thank you," Sam murmurs sleepily into his hair, breath already evening out.

The day started out rough but Gabriel knows that it'll get better. And he thinks maybe Sam's starting to believe that, too.

It's that thought that sends him to sleep with a smile on his face.