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Despite glowing like the sun, Gabriel always ran cold. He chalked it up to it being dear ol' dad's anger at his leaving. Some sort of punishment or something.
It only got worse after Kentucky-fried fuckwit kept him in a dank cell in the Real Bad Place. Oftentimes Sam would find Gabe planted in front of the radiator in the kitchen, sipping hot coffee and bundled in a blanket, despite it being 70 or so in the bunker. Gabe always waved him off. "It comes with the warming of the planet," he'd say. Or some other excuse to get Sam to stop worrying, to stop looking at him with those sad eyes, the knit brow and pursed lips.
Then, late into the night one night, Sam found Gabe shivering on one of the couches in the sitting area reading by firelight, fingers trembling as he turned the page of a book he found that had been written in Enochian. Gabe cursed under his breath when he couldn't grip the old page and Sam frowned.
"Hey," Sam's husky, sleep-addled voice spoke softly.
Gabe startled and looked up, furrowed brows flattening and a smile appearing on his freckled face. A smile that didn't quite meet his honey-coloured eyes. "Hey there," he said. "What are you doing up?"
Sam lifted his glass of water into Gabe's view. "Was a little thirsty." He came around the couch and sat down, setting the glass on the coffee table. "You doing okay?" His glace was met with gold.
"I'm fine, Sam." Gabriel smiled that dim smile again. "Just... didn't know that angels wrote is all. Thought I was the only one."
A quiet greeted them, and Gabe knew he wasn't getting away that easily this time. He shivered again, his teeth making an audible clicking noise.
Then, a gentle warmth covered Gabriel frigid hands. He looked up and Sam's smile greeted him. His gray-green eyes stared at the back of Gabriel's hands as he massaged them in his own, larger ones. "You know," Gabe started, wanting to diffuse the quiet. "If you wanted to hold my hands you-"
"I could've just said so," Sam finished, gaze rising to meet Gabe's. "I know. I just... your fingers were kinda purple and... I know you're cold a lot, so." He shook his head as Gabriel went to argue. "You don't have to say anything. I just..."
Sam paused, eyes fixed on the knuckle he was rubbing warmth into and allowing Gabe to stare openly at Sam's tousled bed-head and the laughter lines on either side of his mouth. And the crinkling in the corners of his eyes. He had a shadow on his jaw and chin and Gabriel longed to reach out and rub just the pad of his thumb over the bump of Sam's beautifully defined cheekbone. Never in all of his days and years and millennia on this rock had he seen anyone so wonderfully beautiful and, taking the time now, he truly appreciated that Sam was in his life.
Before he knew what was happening himself, Gabe had inched forward enough to press his chilled lips to Sam's warm ones, the movement on his hands stopping for a moment.
A long moment that seemed to stretch into infinity. Then, gently, Sam's long fingers laced into Gabriel's and he kissed Gabe back, leaning forward into it. Softly, Gabe's hand caressed Sam's stubbly jaw, getting a shiver from Sam at the contact.
Soon, Sam was in Gabriel's lap, not needing words to convey years of doubt and longing to the other, hands finding warmth and comfort on their own as if they had been doing this forever. The fire flickered and went out, the only light the faint glow of the outline of Gabriel's wings wrapped around them both, the iridescent gold glowing and fading like fireflies on a muggy summer's night.
And Gabe was warm.