#itch writes

[synergygabriel]

Don’t Piss off the Bartender

  “Double on the rocks.” A rough voice made Benny look up from where he’d been drying a glass behind the glass, instantly spotting the man ordering the drink. He was handsome, short hair rumpled in an on purpose yet ‘look how cool and unkempt I am’ sort of way, and green eyes that shone even under the low bar light.

  “What’re you after? JD? Benchmark?” The man shrugged, pulling out a 10. 

  “Highest unit.” He said simply and Benny felt his heart drop a little. One of them. He reached under the counter for a bottle he rarely used pouring it into a small glass before dropping in two cubes, handing it to the man who pressed the note into Benny’s hand before squeezing his fingers, telling him to keep the change. 

  “Wanna talk about anything partner? Don’t get a lot of your type in here.” By ‘your type’ he meant good looking and not a meth head. Cutie still had all his teeth in his head from the looks of it.

  “My type meanin’ what, people who tip well, or people who want to drink till they can’t see?” He sipped the drink, licking his lips afterwards. Benny could see the slightest eye twitch, meaning he hadn’t been ready for it to be that strong, but he was keeping it under control. 

  “I have seen more people drink themselves blind working in here than I have been my own father’s face.” He joked, pouring himself a small glass of Bols. He didn’t drink often, and when he drunk he certainly didn’t drink gin, but he fancied it for some reason. 

  “Bols?” Green-Eyed Man gestured with his own glass at the pale blue drink and Benny shrugged.

  “My grand mother told me that everyone had a spiritual link with someone else somewhere in the world, and whenever you got a really strong craving for a food or drink you don’t usually have, it means they’re drinking or eating it. She was old, and senile, so how much of that I can-” He was cut off by a loud shout from the corner, a glass smashing into pieces on the floor and a yell of ‘YOU WANT SOME OF THIS?’ echoing in the nearly empty bar.

Within seconds he was over there, apron fluttering to the floor where he pulled it off, squaring himself up to the two man about to start a brawl.

  “Now, fellas, how about we call it quits and we go our separate ways, non?” He purred, the rich cajun coming through on his accent as he looked from the scrawny crack addict on his left to the dealer on the right. “I’m sure we don’t want any trouble. Because means I have to call the police... comprenez-vous?” Whilst the junkie simply twitched, still raring for a fight the dealer relaxed a little, posture finally easing. 

  “Yeah. Yeah we’re clear. I’ll see ya round Benny, yeah?” He threw him a peace symbol as he turned to leave. High Off His Tits reached for the broken glass on the table and Benny’s arm shot out, his forearm connecting with the guy’s throat.

  “Don’t you cause trouble for me tonight branleur because I will bar you from this place. And if you’re barred, where will you get your fix?” The junkie squirmed, and Benny checked his dealer had left before he dropped him. “Dégage.” He ran out, rubbing his throat.

  “Well. You’re definitely not just all bark.” The man at the bar snickered, his glass empty. “Did one of them guys call you Benny? I’m Dean.” Benny shook hands with Dean once he’d picked up his apron, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

  “I think part of the intimidation comes in when I speak French, because they don’t have a fucking clue what I’m saying.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I called him a wanker, and then told him to piss off.” Despite his formerly desolate expression Dean’s laugh was nothing short of wonderful, and Benny was pleased to be the one who caused it.

  “I’d let you tell me to piss off in French anytime. That Cajun softness, oh boy.” Dean winked, and Benny smirked, pouring him another glass of whiskey.

~*~

He can’t say he expected to wake up in his bed naked with Dean beside him, also naked, but he was not complaining about the sight. Both the sight of Dean’s bare chest in the morning light, and the sight of telltale purple marks down his chest.

  “’ey, mon cher, wake up. I’ll make breakfast.”

[synergygabriel]

Taylor Swift Music Video-esque.

As much as Gabriel was fed up of having Balthazar being a secret from his brothers, he at the same time loved the rush of excitement he got when the blonde exchange student climbed the tree outside his bedroom window every other night. Sure, it was pretty Taylor Swift music video worthy, Balthazar crouching there like a bizarre but handsome owl waiting for Gabriel to open the window, but it worked for them. The added sense of ‘what if we’re caught’ made the steamy teenage frottage sessions just that bit better in his mind.

Balthazar has joined their school nearly a year ago and Gabriel has been insistent on making friends with the French boy, even learning some French himself to help the communications barrier break down between the two. Within 6 months they’d kissed after going for out for ice cream after a particularly hot March Thursday. Since then he’d snuck in fairly regularly. It never went under clothing, the only things removed were shirts, and even then that was during the summer, in the winter they stayed firmly on. “When are you planning on telling your family?” Balthazar asked one night, playing with some of the gentle waves in Gabriel’s hair. The shorter shrugged, sitting up a little to listen out for what he thought were footsteps in the hall. “Dunno. Tomorrow?” He looked up at Balth who just smiled, pressing a slow and warm kiss to Gabriel’s pliant lips. “Whenever you feel comfortable mon cher.”

Tomorrow it was, and he picked no better time than during Saturday lunch. “I’m dating Balthazar from school.” He blurted out around a mouthful of ham sandwich, looking from Castiel to Michael to his father in hopes that the news would be well received. “Does this coming out mean he can stop sneaking in through your bedroom window?” Michael asked, and Gabriel’s jaw dropped. “You knew? For how long?” He looked around the table again, this time seeing everyone withholding a laugh. “Months? He’s not cat-like, we hear him clamber over the window ledge all the time.” Gabriel thunked his head down on the table with a loud groan. “Invite him for dinner tomorrow, he can finally come in through the door.” Gabriel’s dad chuckled, watching Gabriel blush a red in embarrassment.

Even after they’d come out he’d still sneak in through the window sometimes. The adventure was nice.

[synergygabriel]

Third Floor Window

Dean stood outside the building in the dark, avoiding the light of the lamp post nearby. He knew Sam was in there, probably with his girlfriend, but he couldn’t make himself go knock on the door. He missed Sam. He missed him, and wanted his brother back. Wanted his lover back.

  “Fine, I’ll go then!” He heard a voice from the apartment block, a window then slamming shut on the third floor. Despite the echo in the empty street and the sheer height between Dean and the open window he could have sworn he recognised the voice. Hell, he should have recognised that voice, because the last time that he heard that voice it was saying the exact same thing. 

  “If you’re so desperate to get out of here and go to college why not go now Sam? Why not take your shit and go now, save us the hassle and money for a few months?” Dean’s voice was laced with venom as he shouted at Sam, eyes full of rage. He couldn’t bring himself to believe that Sam was really leaving them.

  “Fine! I’ll go then!” Sam had shouted back, throwing the tea towel he’d been holding, watching it hit Dean’s chest and fall to the floor.

And he was right. 15 minutes later a tall person left the apartment building, a rucksack slung over his shoulder. Sam. Dean slipped into the car, not wanting to be seen. What would Sam think if he knew he was watching him, checking up on him? As he started the Impala’s engine Sam froze, looking over his shoulder, directly at the Impala. 

  “What do you want?” He asked. He wasn’t being loud, and there wasn’t even any hatred in his voice. It was just a simple question. Why was Dean there? Did he not trust Sam to look after himself if a monster came for him? Was he worried about his little brother? Or did he miss the way that Sam touched him, and the way he arched under Dean’s touch? Dean got out the car, looking at Sam, now standing under the spotlight of the lamppost, pushing a hand through his hair. 

  “I... I missed you Sam. I haven’t been without you since you were born man, I just, I needed to know you were oh-” As he was going to say okay, Sam dropped the rucksack, crossing over to Dean by the Impala in seconds. The older, though now no longer taller Winchester stopped being able to speak as Sam cupped his face, a rough kiss blossoming between them, a kiss that told Dean so many things about Sam. It told Dean that no matter how much he had missed Sam, Sam had missed him more, Sam had desperately wanted to come home, how much he has wanted to call Dean and tell him he wanted to come back.

Dean could do nothing more than kiss back, grab onto Sam’s shirt and kiss back, showing Sam that he also missed him, that he’d wanted to call him and tell him that he wanted him to come home, or that he wanted to come to Stanford and be with Sam. 

  “I missed you too Dean.” He whispered back against Dean’s lips, hands threading through Dean’s short hair, pulling him closer. 

[synergygabriel]

Est-ce un card?

Castiel looked at the table in front of him and sighed to himself, playing with what had just been a neatly folded napkin. He’d been stood up. Not that this was the first time this has ever happened in his life but he had thought this was going to go really well. He’d had really good feelings about this date as well. Naomi had seemed like a nice enough girl too... maybe there was a reason, no, there had to be a perfectly good reason for why she hadn’t shown up.

He poked at the fork on the table as he decided whether he should eat there, or just leave, letting another couple sit down and eat. Just as he was aboutt o get up he heard a small voice to his side. 

  “Monsieur?” A young girl with dark brown hair was stood there, arms behind her back and a tear rolling down her cheek. He instantly picked up the napkin properly, wiping her face. “Pardonne moi, mais,, ou est mon papa?” Her voice was soft but the French perfect, seemingly her first language. Castiel thought frantically, trying to remember any French he could. He could understand roughly what she’d said, something about excuse me, and asking about her Dad. 

  “I - uh. Je ne sais pas, uhh...” He racked his brains some more, wanting t say something along the lines of ‘are you lost?’ but not knowing how. Eventually he settled for patting the chair opposite to get her to sit, pulling a packet of cards from the pocket of his trenchcoat.

  “Snap?” He asked, giving them a fancy casino style shuffle that had her drawer drop. “Or... prenez un card.” She picked one, looked at it before putting it back. Cas, finally having use for the card trick he’d learnt from his older brother re-removed the Four of Hearts from the deck. “Est-ce un card?” She clapped and giggled, and Cas guessed it must have been.

It was maybe fifteen minutes later Castiel heard it.

  “Filicia?” A voice called, a French accent rising above the quiet babble of chatter in the restaurant. “Filicia? Ou est tu?” Castiel stood up, spotting the handsome blonde man loking frantically around, a plush bunny hanging from his hand. 

  “Sir? Is this...?” He pointed down a little, watching the man’s face split into a smile as he ran over and gripped his daughter in a hug. 

  “Ma chérie,  tu est en sécurité! Dieu merci, et merci monsieur. I mean - thank you. A lot, I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost her, or worse.” He handed her the bunny before looking at Cas’ empty table. “Here, let me buy you dinner please. It’s the least I could do.” Although he wanted to say no, it was no worry, she had been a darling, something about the blueness of the other man’s eyes lead him to accept.

The man introduced himself as Balthazar over a glass of wine, his smile only growing bigger as the evening went on and Castiel left with his number in his pocket, which he called the next day to thank him again for the dinner. The texts were daily, some from Balthazar in an odd blend of English and French, Castiel’s in perfect grammar. Then Castiel would go visit, learning French from Filicia who adored him to pieces. 

About six months after they met Balthazar paid for a trip to Paris for all three of them, and after leaving Filicia with his sister for the night he kissed Castiel under the glow of the Eiffel Tower, their fingers laced together.

[synergygabriel]

Reading in the Dark

It was gone ten in the evening when Dean finally re-entered the Bunker. He told Sam that he’d gone out for basic groceries, bread, milk, butter, even though they had all three of those things. Sometimes he just needed a late night drive to clear his head. Sam finally stopped questioning him when he aid they needed items Sam knew they had. ‘Grocery shopping’ had almost become one of their code words for ‘I need a break.’

He stood in the kitchen, rubbing his thumb over the key to Baby in his right hand, letting the feel of the metal ground him, keep him tethered to the mortal plane but only just loops of fishing wire tying themselves around each finger and strands of his hair, like a puppet master above him was desperate to keep the show going. He exhaled a heavy sigh and threw the keys onto the counter before turning away and trudging down the corridor towards his bedroom.

He crept through the door as quietly as he could, toeing off his shoes and leaving them beside the door, neat and out of the way so he wouldn’t trip over them if he left the room in the middle of the night needing the bathroom, or he ran out of there if they were under attack. The room was dark, and silent for the most part. The only noise was the soft sound of breathing and a quiet page turning every few seconds.

  “I still can’t understand how you can read in no light. I know it’s all that angel bullshit but it weirds me out man.” He muttered at the person occupying half of his double bed, opening his eyes as wide as he could to try and get them to adjust to the dark quicker.

  “I can turn the lamp on if it would make you feel better.” Cas’ voice was music to Dean’s ears and despite the hollow feeling in his chest, a smile crossed his face. 

  “Nah leave it off. I should get some sleep anyway.” Shrugging off the plaid shirt and dropping it into their laundry basket he fumbled his way through a drawer to find a soft pyjama shirt, pulling it over his head, dragging one hand through his hair once he was done. Sleep was going to be the best bet right now. Hopefully he wouldn’t have any dreams, or at least, he hoped Cas would be awake to rid him of the bad dreams. 

  “Are you okay?” Dean shrugged, knowing that Cas to see him before he slipped under the bed covers, closing his eyes and burying his face into his pillow. 

Without another word Castiel just rolled over, draping an arm over Dean’s waist, pulling them close so they were cuddled under the soft blankets, Castiel pressing gentle kisses to the back of Dean’s neck and his shoulders before whispering what sounded like an Enochian prayer into his ear, perhaps a little something to help him sleep.

The last thing he remembered before he fell asleep was the sheer warmth and solidity of Cas behind him, protecting him. Hell, he could have sworn he heard rustling above him suggesting Cas’ wings were open, shielding them both from anything that wasn’t the other. 

[synergygabriel]

he lets his hands dance across the piano keys. 

there was a rhythm therefore there was a way, a time and key signature at the start and a double bar line at the end to tell him to stop, to lift his foot from the pedal and raise his hands from the ivory keys as the cadence dulled out into the empty room. soft golden strands of hair hung in his face, right in front of his eyes, one soft curl tickling his nose as he stared down at the keys.

without thinking he put his hands back, starting off slow and delicate, starting off thinking about nothing, letting his fingers dance absently before he entered the main melody and he couldnt help himself. his eyes slipped closed, leaning towards the piano as he pressed harder, each note louder than the last. the delicate tune took a turn, filling the room with cherry blossom branches and flowers that opened their petals. he imagined himself at the side of the river, water skipping stones.

he imagined a pair of strong arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close again the others chest, a nose nuzzling into his golden hair, a warm comfort coming from the man behind him who didnt exist.

  gabe? a voice muttered and he stopped played, an unfinished chord hanging in the hair. come back to bed baby, please? gabriels fingers fell back into the chords, forming a perfect cadence before he headed back into he bedroom, falling into the silk sheets with sam.

it wasnt often he couldnt sleep, but when he did he let himself get lost in music.

[synergygabriel]

SO @teenytinytony GOT INTO A COURSE THEY REALLY WANTED TO GET INTO AND IM SUPER PROUD OF THEM SO I WROTE THEM SOME SABRIEL AS A CONGRATS CAUSE IM SO PROUD ;W;

Sam ran his thumb over the thin inked glass on the inside of his wrist with a sad smile on his face. Soulmarks were meant to help someone find their soulmate, not make it impossible. Everyone’s was something directly related to their first meeting. His brother-in-law Castiel had a small drawing of a Chevy Impala on his wrist, the exact car Dean nearly ran him over with that December night. Dean’s wrist was decorated with a fire, one that Castiel helped him build when they decided that maybe it was too icy to drive in the dark. 

He’d never found someone drinking red wine from a champagne flute. It didn’t make any sense - why would someone? Obviously his soul mate, but... he shook his head, tugging his sleeve down to cover the mark. He was on soon.

Sam worked in a very fancy restaurant. He wasn’t the chef or waiter, he played the Grand Piano in the corner, delicate tunes for the upper class to eat to. Atop the piano was a book of songs that he could play and people could come place requests, though no one ever did really. He straightened the dark bow tie around his neck as he sunk onto the piano stool, fingers touching the keys, ready to slip into something meaningless and bright.

  “Hey, psst, piano guy.” He looked up at a man leaning on the piano with an elbow. His gaze took in the sharp suit he was wearing, the wavy golden hair and the bright sparkling gold eyes. 

  “You want a request?” Sam said, half expecting him to ask him to play Mambo No. 5 or something else completely fucking bullshit. The guy set a glass down on the piano, a champagne flute of red wine, before smiling at him.

  “My Heart Will Go On, if you would be so kind.” Sam nodded, a lump heavy in his throat at the sight of the glass, which he didn’t touch, he just put his hands in different positions on the keys and began to play the song. The golden-haired man didn’t move, he just stood up straighter, seemingly watching someone on the other side of the room. Sam wanted to look at who, maybe it was a girlfriend? Was the glass just that, a fluke? As he got into the chorus, the flowing soft notes making the song now very easily recognisable to anyone who’d seen the film he heard a shout.

  “Oh come on! Gabriel you utter-” Now Sam did look. A blonde haired man was glaring at Sam’s new ‘friend’ with pure murder in his eyes. Golden-Haired-Man, Gabriel, was grinning. 

  “Keep going keep going.” He whispered to Sam, who did, not knowing why. 

  “Gabriel Steven Novak I will tell your father about this.” The blonde man shouted over, English accent bleeding into every word.

  “Go ahead. What’s he gonna do, ground me?” Gabriel turned back to Sam and winked before tapping the piano twice. “Now that’s done, The River Flows in You; Yiruma?” Sam was more than happy to oblige.

~*~

He played The River Flows in You at the end of the night again when everyone was leaving. It was soft and easy, something he played often when he was tired because the notes just came to him. As he tailed it off, lowering the lid of the piano, Gabriel came skipping over.

  “So, I’m Gabriel.” He held out a hand for Sam to shake, which he did.

  “Sam. Can I ask, what was that thing with My Heart Will Go On?” Gabriel snorted, sipping some wine from the glass in his hand.

  “Oh, my cousin Balthazar hates that song. So I play it whenever I can. I thought having you play it would be very amusing, and I wasn’t wrong.” Gabriel flicked his arm, checking his watch when his shirt sleeve rode up. Underneath the watch strap was a soul mark of what looked like a piano stave. “I have... 5 minutes till Father dear shows up to pick me up, so why don’t you drink up that wine I gave you and I show you what’s under my watch strap in case I just got very, very lucky.” 

Sam didn’t hesitate to neck the wine - it’d been out for a few hours and wouldn’t have tasted very good anyway. Gabriel laughed at the action but said nothing, unbuckling his watch and sliding it off, letting Sam read the notes. His fingers found the keys easily and played the very beginning of The River Flows in You. He stared, then did it again, making sure he hadn’t made a mistake.

  “You...”

  “There was a reason I chose that specific song genius. They call me Gabriel. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

[synergygabriel]

So today was Kibbers’ birthday and I wrote her a thing which you can find here uwu