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Description
Brief Freedom

a SPN Fanfic One-Shot

for the Fourth

{Warning: SEVERE CUTENESS AND FLUFF AHEAD. Also adorable shipping (Sabriel and Destiel). AU where they live together in a house and it's Cas and Gabe's first Fourth of July. Also very short, just for feels}

[a/n: WOOHOO FIRST HOLIDAY FANFIC!]

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Sam knew immediately it was Cas when he heard the sound of footsteps coming from his left. From his perch on the swinging bench on his front porch, his nose deep in a book, it was all too obvious. Dean would have said his name upon approaching him or plopped down next to him- maybe even snatched the novel out of his hands to comment how he could possibly be reading for fun, let alone on a summer holiday such as this. Gabriel would have tackled him in the bench or simply teleported next to him, sucker in his mouth and drink in hand and ask what he was reading. But Cas approached him calmly, with steady, slow footsteps and awkwardly stood there, prepared to wait until the Winchester noticed his presence. Castiel was too timid for his own good, and luckily Sam was nice enough to put his book aside immediately instead of letting the poor guy stand there and wait for him to finish the page.

Looking up with a small smile, Sam asked, “What’s up, Cas?”

Castiel, instead of wearing his usual garb of trenchcoat and suit, was wearing a normal navy t-shirt and jeans- firstly because the Winchesters had managed to get him to wear other types of clothing, secondly because it was nearly one hundred degrees outside and he would have quite literally melted in the heat. The angel was steadily getting used to new clothing, and now had an accomplished closet of three shirts, two pairs of jeans, and two pairs of shoes. Not bad, considering the habitual angel in question.

Cas sat down softly next to Sam on the swaying bench, wiping sweat from his brow. His black hair was slightly limp in the humidity and sweat was starting to bead on his neck and upper lip, but Sam wasn’t impervious to the heat either. He too was sweating, and he combed his hair back with his fingers as he saved his place in his book. Then he looked at Castiel and asked again, “What is it?”

“I do not understand this holiday,” he said, sounding slightly ruffled. Sam smirked. Should’ve seen this one coming, he thought. “And why exploding rockets of gunpowder are necessary to celebrate it.”

Sam shifted his jaw. He’d never had to explain a holiday before, not ever. His mind immediately retreated to memories of sixth grade history, chock full of American knowledge. God knows how hard they pounded the history of American government into his head. Declaration of Independence, the Revolution, the Constitution...yadayada. Sam always appreciated knowledge, even at that age, but you can only learn the same thing over and over again before you were just sick of it. “You know what we’re celebrating it for, right?”

“It symbolizes the day the United States signed their Declaration of Independence in 1776, bringing around their liberation from the country of England,” Castiel recited, as monotonous as any history teacher Sam had ever had. “But fireworks originate from archaic China, long before the American Revolution.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t say how that tradition managed to get over here, but-” Sam paused upon seeing the look on Castiel’s face. “You understand tradition, don’t you?”

“When someone does the same thing over and over in relevance to a practice or celebration, often dependant on cultures or religion.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “So you do understand it. Well, the Fourth of July is an American culture tradition. Like baseball and Thanksgiving. What’s so hard to get?”

“Fireworks,” Castiel said bluntly. His blue eyes were focused on the sanded wood planks that constructed the porch underfoot.

“Those are just for fun. Also tradition. Like Christmas presents or Easter eggs.”

Castiel crossed his arms, an uncharacteristically grumpy expression crossing his handsome face. “Fine. I understand now.” His voice was curt. He seemed unsatisfied by the answer the Winchester had given him. Sam was even more confused than before. What was he so annoyed about?

A sudden thought occurred to the Winchester, making him grin. His deep green eyes began to glimmer with amusement. “Cas...you aren’t jealous about all the fireworks stuff Dean is doing with Gabriel, are you?” He chuckled warmly upon seeing the pink blush that immediately spread across the angel’s cheekbones.

“No,” he said, very unconvincingly as his deep voice grew scratchy, catching on the lie.

“Oh, man, you really are, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” he insisted poorly, flushing a deeper red.

“Cas, you don’t have to be jealous of fireworks. " Sam chuckled shortly at the ridiculous notion. "Who said you can’t help out? You just want to spend more time with him, right?” Sam, at that moment, was so glad he was over the whole you’re-dating-my-brother-that’s-awkward thing. The first few weeks when they had taken their relationship to the next level had been, at least, a little uncomfortable, but Dean and Cas had been practically dating anyway- it was an easy step to overcome in the long run.

“I would not draw his attention from the fireworks,” Castiel said quietly, blush fading as slight disappointment flashed across his face. “I know how excited he is to celebrate this holiday.” Sam felt his heart pang with sympathy- but he was used to his brother’s insane love of fireworks...well, all exploding things in general.

Even Gabriel was manically excited about the holiday, despite being millennia older than the American Revolution. Cas knew he wanted to impress Sam with fireworks disobedient to the laws of physics and nature, while Sam was just content to think it was finally a chance for him to have some innocent fun. But for all of them, it was also the celebration of being alive. Together.

As a... family.

Happy. Together. Alive. And free. It was a true miracle. Their freedom was more than any one of them could have asked for.

There was the sudden rip of wings through the air, interrupting the awkward silence that fell between the two, and Gabriel was instantly sprawled out on the bench next to Sam. He wrapped an arm around the tall Winchester with the wild grin that always spread across his face when he was around him.

“Hey, Gigantor,” he said affectionately, sipping lazily out of a tall, slick glass of pink lemonade undoubtedly spiked with enough sugar to kill a horse. Sam’s eyes sparkled with a practically devoted fondness as he turned towards the archangel, canines glinting as his lips tugged into a wide smile. The nicknames Gabriel had given him, as varied as they were, was Gabe’s substitute for ‘honey’ and ‘babe’, partly because Sam didn’t like those sugary names- neither does Dean, Castiel thought, not that he would ever call his Winchester by a pet name- and partly because he was Gabriel. Sam simply called him Gabe or, when he was feeling particularly humorous, ‘Lollipop’, because it made them all cringe.

“Enjoying the heat?” Sam asked the angel, taking a sip out of Gabe’s glass before he could move his arm away. Gabe smirked and shook his head.

“My body just needed a wink in the shade. Dean’s practically unconscious in the backyard.”

Castiel sat erect, eyebrows raising. “Is he feeling alright?” he asked, deep voice dipping just slightly in concern. Sam snorted with a mutter under his breath sounding like ‘I doubt it’ while Gabe rolled his eyes at his brother’s unnecessary alarm.

“He’s fine,” Gabriel said passively, and Sam gave Cas a reassuring nod that he actively ignored.

“I’m...I’m going to go check on him,” Cas said, deep voice only slightly hurried. This earned, again, two twin eyerolls from the Winchester and his brother. He tromped quickly down the proche steps and around the tall house that they called their home. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to simply ‘fly’ over to the backyard. Out from under the shade of the covered porch, the sun began to bore down on him relentlessly, blasting his back with heat and plastering his clothes to his skin.

The field behind their house wasn’t that short a walk away, only fifty or sixty feet, but first you had to trudge up a small hill- that particular hill was an annoying obstacle considering the heat, and by the time Castiel got to the top he was sweating from head to toe, and he absently wiped his brow in mundane fashion. Raking his eyes down the lush but neatly trimmed field he quickly found who he was looking for.

When he saw Dean, at first all he could think was how he looked out there, arms flung wide from his torso and fingers splayed, with jean encased legs spread across the verdant ground like a summer snow angel. Every inch of skin exposed had been tanned to a warm bronze. He was resting under the freshly assembled canopy, which had been evidently painstaking to put up. From here, Cas could see that the Winchester’s eyes were closed and an uncharacteristically serene expression was spread across his face. The faintest breath of wind rustled through his brown hair, and a corner of Dean’s lips rose in what could only be contentment.

The angel felt his heart lurch in affection, and he found himself pausing. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb the Winchester- he didn’t want to be responsible for wiping that peaceful expression off of his face. He simply stood there in the heat, admiring from afar, relishing that calm smile on his human’s face.

That was what Castiel was celebrating today.

With his enhanced vision, he took note of the way Dean inhaled, raspy and quick, with sweat drenching his brow and shirt and glistening on his muscular arms.

Cas was at Dean’s side without a second thought. To his chagrin, it startled the Winchester enough that calm smile evaporated and was replaced by surprise. But since they’d been truly together, Dean had stopped being angry when Cas appeared out of nowhere- but he was always surprised. Castiel suspected he might not ever get used to it- not with the way his reflexes were honed. It was both a blessing and a heartache. A gift in the way Dean would never be caught so off guard, would always be ready- a curse in the way that he could never be completely free of the hard, bloody life he didn’t deserve. Always be wary of threat, like a desert creature’s forever caution of the skies, almost waiting for the rare hawk to strike from above.

Cas’s concern lessened slightly upons seeing how Dean’s eyes crinkled as he looked up at him, his briefly tense body relaxing.

“‘Sup, Cas?” he asked, voice like crumpled paper.

“You’re dehydrated,” the angel accused, both concern and irritated in his own way. Like Dean exposing himself to summer heat had personally insulted him. “You must get out of the heat and ingest large quantities of water or the probability of your getting a heat stroke rises significantly.” He cocked his head, and there’s an almost audible drop of teasing in his voice. “Do you enjoy risking your life, Dean?”

Even though Dean knew Castiel wasn’t being completely serious, his nostrils flared just slightly and he snorted, rolling his bright green eyes. “It’s not my fault your brother’s an asshole,” he replied, his voice a note annoyed but entertained. “It would’ve taken him, what, a whole half second flat to assemble this thing. Probably less. But nooo, he wanted “authenticity” or whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Self-righteous asshole.”

“This is Gabriel’s first true Fourth of July.“ Castiel said simply, as if it explained everything-- which it kind of did. It was important to the archangel that today would be particularly memorable. And considering the angel himself, it was bound to be.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean grumbled. “Yours too. Me and Sam haven’t had a real Fourth in a long time.” He lost focus for a moment, feeling his mind drift into memories- one specific memory. The memory itself was warm and wonderful, but when he snapped back into reality it felt sad and left an empty feeling in the gut of his chest. He felt a hand softly brush the skin of his cheek, and looked up to see a slightly somber angel looking down at him. Dean cleared his throat, wondering how sad he must have looked to make Castiel feel bad, and he scooted backwards on the grass until his head was in the angel’s laugh. He felt a small smile slide across his face, chasing the cold feeling away and easing the concern in Castiel’s eyes.

“He’s, uh, not his usual lazy self today, I’ll give him that,” Dean said, awkwardly returning to the previous subject. “I think this is a good spot to set off the fireworks, don't you think? We just pull out some chairs, a cooler with some beers, wait till it's gets dark. Sam will probably end up lighting his shirt on fire like when he was in the fourth grade- God, that was funny- and Gabe will probably make his fireworks insane. Stupid unfair archangel powers. He'll probably have some in different shapes like freaking movie special effects and make them rain sprinkles or butterflies or something." He chuckled to himself. "At least someone’s excited about fireworks around here." He winked at the angel, feeling a warm sensation swirl in his stomach as his eyes drank in the angel above him. He looked so handsome, despite the sweat beading his forehead and arms, and he would’ve reached up and kissed him if his back didn’t hurt so fucking much.

He was what Dean was celebrating today. Castiel. Being with him.

Castiel’s arms were almost absentmindedly rubbing Dean’s collarbone, and it took a second for Dean’s last comment to register with him. When it did, the corner of his lip twitched, as if unsure to smile or frown. He sank backwards on his heels, expression deciding to be troubled. Dean lifted his head and slowly flipped over- damn, my back- grass clinging to the darkened, sweat-drenched V of his grey t-shirt.

“Hey...” he said, feeling his lips curve up in a smile. “You know what the best thing about today is?”

Castiel looked up, sapphire blues glittering with a sort of bereaved resignation, as if he had accepted something he didn’t want to. “Fireworks?” he asked, smiling without any humor.

“No, idiot. The best thing about today...” He leaned closer, popping the bubble of space between them. He was soon on his hands and knees in front of Castiel, inhaling the earthy smell of the angel. He found the tang of salt in the smell surprisingly arousing, considering it was just sweat. But sweat on Cas was...never a bad thing.

“Dean...” Cas began to say, but his parched throat made the name come out like a shout in a sandstorm. His pupils, fixed to the Winchester's own captivating green orbs, began to quiver and dilate, and the summer heat was suddenly overwhelming. It swept over him like a wave and he felt his oxygen evaporate in his lungs, and despite his mood he found himself eager to close the space between them completely. A hot flush spread through his cheeks, and Dean bared his white teeth in an impish smile, making the angel’s insides feel like they were melting.

Soon, Dean was so close Castiel could smell the salt on his upper lip. He felt an irrational urge to taste it, along with the entirety of the Winchester’s mouth, but to his instant annoyance Dean paused inches before meeting the angel’s lips.

“The best thing about today...” he repeated, voice a whisper that trembled through Castiel's very skin, shivering through his bones, “...is the hotdogs. Sam makes kickass summer dogs.”

Castiel blinked very rapidly at one of the worst attempts at humor known to man, and Dean sprung to his feet and made to book it back to the house, senseless deep laughter bursting out of his mouth. No one thought Dean Winchester was funny more than Dean Winchester.

Castiel was not amused.

With a motion so quick even Dean Winchester hadn’t seen it coming, the angel shot out an arm and without even leaning to the side, gripped the exhunter by the ankled and with tremendous angelic strength, gave a firm and fierce jerk. He hadn’t even stepped outside the shade of the canopy before he fell hard onto the suddenly painful grass, and he was dragged right back to where he started. Wincing and spluttering, he looked up bewildered at his angel, who wore a scarily cross expression the Cas equivalent of one of Sam’s bitchfaces. In fact, it was eerily similar to Sam’s Bitch-did-not face.

“You are not allowed to mess with my emotions in that manner,” he said, his voice bossy and irritated, but with an underlying current of something Dean couldn’t put his finger on. He stared at the angel, hazel eyes wide as he wrestled with what to say. He’d just been teasing...Castiel continued, voice deep and utterly serious. “And say something as foolish as that and think it humorous. I hope, for your sake, you have something to make up for such atrocity.”

Dean blinked.

Apparently he wasn’t the only tease here.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said quickly, crawling up to the angel and placing his hands on his chest. It only took the lightest amount of pressure to have Castiel falling like a leaf onto the ground. He clambered across the man, hands on either side of Castiel’s face keeping himself up, his whole body hovering over the other's. “I’ll get right on that.”

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Gabriel sure was whiny when he wanted something. Usually Sam was a pushover and let him get what he wanted, eventually, but this time he was being as stubborn as his brother and wouldn’t budge an inch on the subject.

“But whhhhhyyy?” he moaned, rolling over on the tall Winchester and interrupting his reading for the billionth time in the past ten seconds.

“Because holidays are something you wait for. The whole purpose of them is waiting until the moment when you celebrate- it’s what makes it special.”

“But waiting is so boring...” the archangel pouted, his voice deepening in annoyance. Sam rolled his eyes from behind the book, and didn’t spare Gabriel a look. He already knew that the archangel’s tawny eyes would be turned on full puppy mode. But Sam Winchester was the master of puppy dog looks, the expert- he’d perfected his to an art.

“Get over it.”

“You’re so heartless,” Gabriel muttered. “This is my first Fourth of July. Don’t you want to make me happy, Sammy?”

“Speeding up time so you can blow things up faster is cheating.”

“It’s only a couple of hours!” the archangel protested, brushing his long brown hair out of his face and pushing the ground lazily with a foot, making the bench rock. “The sun’s already setting- it’ll be like no time at all!”

“Still cheating.”

Gabe groaned, muttering ‘no fun’ under his breath, and flopped off the bench, making to stomp into the house with a pout on his face with bottom lip out and chin set.

“Ah ah ah,” Sam tutted executively, grabbing the angel gently by an arm without looking up from his book. “Get back here.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and sighed exaggeratingly, but he turned back around with no resistance and sat roughly back into the chair. Sam snaked his arm around the archangel’s shoulder and massaged the archangel’s shoulderblade, and Gabriel felt his lips stretch into a smile as he snuggled up into the huge Winchester’s muscular side, curling his smaller legs up to his chest and plopping a head on his shoulder.

“Trust me,” Sam said calmly. He finally looked up from his novel and met the angel in the eyes. “Waiting only makes it better in the end.”

“But what if it’s not?” Gabriel pondered quietly, but then gnawed on his lip as though he hadn’t meant to say the thought aloud.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” the Winchester asked, craning his neck to look at his angel in the eye. In the time that Sam had gotten to know him, he started recognizing the looks his archangel got. When it looked like he was entertained he was actually vulnerable or feeling awkward. When he acted too happy Sam knew he was feeling so down in the dumps he could barely stand it, but didn't want anyone else to know- especially Sam. Gabriel always tried to spare Sam all sadness, but the Winchester always ended up wringing him like a towel, letting all of those raw emotions he kept up inside squeeze out in buckets. There was this great, vast depth to Gabriel that he hardly let show, and Sam knew that was part of the reason Gabriel intrigued him so much. He put on the face of the goof, the trickster, the slacker when he felt all human emotions just as much, if not more intensely, than everyone else. He was the most human person Sam had ever met.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said artlessly with a forced chuckle. “Just been so excited. Don’t...don’t want to be disappointed, I guess.” The archangel blushed, as if he was ashamed, but Sam put down his book and nuzzled into his hair affectionately. He knew exactly what Gabriel meant. To be afraid of disappointment. To be excited all day about something yet to come and when the moment finally passes it isn’t what you expected it to be. It was so beautifully human Sam found himself tilting the archangel’s head up to look at him more clearly, his green eyes glistening with devotion.

Gabriel flushed, feeling as though his masculinity was truly at stake, but all worries snapped away as Sam pressed his mouth to his, sending real fireworks through him- fiery and beautiful and almost out of control.

Sam was out of breath when he broke the kiss, and Gabriel just sat there, feeling love buzz through his whole body like a million firecrackers.

“It will be awesome,” Sam whispered, when he managed to get oxygen back into his lungs. “Just because you’re here.”

Gabriel beams, cheeks still flushed with flame. “Aw, shucks, Gigantor, you make me feel like a blue ribbon apple pie.” Sam rolled his eyes at the corny joke, but suddenly Gabe took initiative and brushed the Winchester’s cheekbone with a cool lip. A trail of fire led from his cheekbone to his neck, where Gabriel looked back up at Sam with mirth lighting his eyes. They sat there, just gazing at each other like that, until Gabriel broke the calm silence and wrapped his arms around Sam, dragging him out of the chair and tackling the massive man to the porch ground.

“Ahhh, Gabriel, what the hell?!” Sam gasped through surprised laughter, after colliding with the wooden porch and recovering from the sudden fall.

“Enough with all the sissy stuff!” the archangel roared, his deep voice guttural and courageous. His eyes blazed with mischief and he smiled widely, pinning Sam down by both arms. “I HAVE COME TO CONQUER AND ATTACK WITHOUT FAIL! I WILL TICKLE YOU UNTIL YOU BEG FOR MERCY AND EVEN THEN WILL NOT RELENT! NEVER SHALL I FALTER- UNTIL YOU LET ME SET OFF FIREWORKS!”

“You. Wouldn't. Dare,” Sam growled, scandalized, but that wasted precious air he wished he kept as Gabriel began to furiously, incessantly, mercilessly tickle him in places he was particularly sensitive. Soon hot tears ran down his face as his chest wracked with uncontrollable laugher. He screamed and kicked and practically punched but the archangel was a freaking rock on top of him and refused to be moved. He was laughing so hard his throat ached and his lungs begged for oxygen, and the less oxygen he had the more high-pitched his giggles became, making Gabriel roar with victorious laughter.

“Get off me, you child!” Sam screamed through the irrepressible giggles. Gabriel couldn’t help but think that even giggling and screaming in a high-pitched tone Sam’s voice was still incredibly sexy. Hell, everything about him was sexy, but Gabriel really had a thing for Sam Winchester’s laugh. He LOVED it. It was- though he would never admit it- almost arousing, if you could believe it, that joy on his face accompanied deep throaty rumble. But it was mostly really freaking hilarious. Even, if not especially, when it was hysterical.

“I surrender, I surrender!” The Winchester’s muscles were starting to fail him under the constant exhausting assaults of tickling, and he was getting very very tired and very very out of breath.

Gabriel paused, and Sam quickly gulped down air. The archangel leaned down from where he straddled the Winchester’s waist, lips brushing his ear as he whispered roughly, voice borderline tantalizing, “Do you agree to fireworks, Sam Winchester?”

Sam grew silent, and with a sigh he turned to look Gabriel in his golden syrupy eyes. They glittered with joy, but wore a playmask of the victory of battle.

That’s what Sam and Gabriel were celebrating. Each other. Screwing around, having fun, connecting with each other in ways no one else could.

“Nope.”

“...WRONG ANSWER!”

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The next morning, Sam found himself slightly hungover with clothes slightly charred from a mad sparkler incident he didn't entirely remember. If Einstein hadn't been slightly crazy, he would have been driven absolutely insane by the insane stunts of Gabriel's fireworks. Let's just say the shapes came to life in a mystifying, jawdropping, awe inspiring ways, one of which ended up with Dean nearly getting his head chomped off by a magical fireworks dragon. Dean had several burns and singed eyebrows, courtesy of Gabriel the archangel.

Who had found the holiday extremely entertaining. Better than he had imagined- after Sam made him wait.

And Cas?

Waking up that morning he was in an uncharacterisitcally cheery mood- his opinion of fireworks vastly different after participating in lighting them the night before. You could say he developed an intense fascination with them, 8-balls especially...until they accidentally hit Sam right in the ass and sent him howling out of his chair.

Then he loved them.

Description
Brief Freedom

a SPN Fanfic One-Shot

for the Fourth

{Warning: SEVERE CUTENESS AND FLUFF AHEAD. Also adorable shipping (Sabriel and Destiel). AU where they live together in a house and it's Cas and Gabe's first Fourth of July. Also very short, just for feels}

[a/n: WOOHOO FIRST HOLIDAY FANFIC!]

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Sam knew immediately it was Cas when he heard the sound of footsteps coming from his left. From his perch on the swinging bench on his front porch, his nose deep in a book, it was all too obvious. Dean would have said his name upon approaching him or plopped down next to him- maybe even snatched the novel out of his hands to comment how he could possibly be reading for fun, let alone on a summer holiday such as this. Gabriel would have tackled him in the bench or simply teleported next to him, sucker in his mouth and drink in hand and ask what he was reading. But Cas approached him calmly, with steady, slow footsteps and awkwardly stood there, prepared to wait until the Winchester noticed his presence. Castiel was too timid for his own good, and luckily Sam was nice enough to put his book aside immediately instead of letting the poor guy stand there and wait for him to finish the page.

Looking up with a small smile, Sam asked, “What’s up, Cas?”

Castiel, instead of wearing his usual garb of trenchcoat and suit, was wearing a normal navy t-shirt and jeans- firstly because the Winchesters had managed to get him to wear other types of clothing, secondly because it was nearly one hundred degrees outside and he would have quite literally melted in the heat. The angel was steadily getting used to new clothing, and now had an accomplished closet of three shirts, two pairs of jeans, and two pairs of shoes. Not bad, considering the habitual angel in question.

Cas sat down softly next to Sam on the swaying bench, wiping sweat from his brow. His black hair was slightly limp in the humidity and sweat was starting to bead on his neck and upper lip, but Sam wasn’t impervious to the heat either. He too was sweating, and he combed his hair back with his fingers as he saved his place in his book. Then he looked at Castiel and asked again, “What is it?”

“I do not understand this holiday,” he said, sounding slightly ruffled. Sam smirked. Should’ve seen this one coming, he thought. “And why exploding rockets of gunpowder are necessary to celebrate it.”

Sam shifted his jaw. He’d never had to explain a holiday before, not ever. His mind immediately retreated to memories of sixth grade history, chock full of American knowledge. God knows how hard they pounded the history of American government into his head. Declaration of Independence, the Revolution, the Constitution...yadayada. Sam always appreciated knowledge, even at that age, but you can only learn the same thing over and over again before you were just sick of it. “You know what we’re celebrating it for, right?”

“It symbolizes the day the United States signed their Declaration of Independence in 1776, bringing around their liberation from the country of England,” Castiel recited, as monotonous as any history teacher Sam had ever had. “But fireworks originate from archaic China, long before the American Revolution.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t say how that tradition managed to get over here, but-” Sam paused upon seeing the look on Castiel’s face. “You understand tradition, don’t you?”

“When someone does the same thing over and over in relevance to a practice or celebration, often dependant on cultures or religion.”

Sam’s eyebrows rose. “So you do understand it. Well, the Fourth of July is an American culture tradition. Like baseball and Thanksgiving. What’s so hard to get?”

“Fireworks,” Castiel said bluntly. His blue eyes were focused on the sanded wood planks that constructed the porch underfoot.

“Those are just for fun. Also tradition. Like Christmas presents or Easter eggs.”

Castiel crossed his arms, an uncharacteristically grumpy expression crossing his handsome face. “Fine. I understand now.” His voice was curt. He seemed unsatisfied by the answer the Winchester had given him. Sam was even more confused than before. What was he so annoyed about?

A sudden thought occurred to the Winchester, making him grin. His deep green eyes began to glimmer with amusement. “Cas...you aren’t jealous about all the fireworks stuff Dean is doing with Gabriel, are you?” He chuckled warmly upon seeing the pink blush that immediately spread across the angel’s cheekbones.

“No,” he said, very unconvincingly as his deep voice grew scratchy, catching on the lie.

“Oh, man, you really are, aren’t you?”

“I am not,” he insisted poorly, flushing a deeper red.

“Cas, you don’t have to be jealous of fireworks. " Sam chuckled shortly at the ridiculous notion. "Who said you can’t help out? You just want to spend more time with him, right?” Sam, at that moment, was so glad he was over the whole you’re-dating-my-brother-that’s-awkward thing. The first few weeks when they had taken their relationship to the next level had been, at least, a little uncomfortable, but Dean and Cas had been practically dating anyway- it was an easy step to overcome in the long run.

“I would not draw his attention from the fireworks,” Castiel said quietly, blush fading as slight disappointment flashed across his face. “I know how excited he is to celebrate this holiday.” Sam felt his heart pang with sympathy- but he was used to his brother’s insane love of fireworks...well, all exploding things in general.

Even Gabriel was manically excited about the holiday, despite being millennia older than the American Revolution. Cas knew he wanted to impress Sam with fireworks disobedient to the laws of physics and nature, while Sam was just content to think it was finally a chance for him to have some innocent fun. But for all of them, it was also the celebration of being alive. Together.

As a... family.

Happy. Together. Alive. And free. It was a true miracle. Their freedom was more than any one of them could have asked for.

There was the sudden rip of wings through the air, interrupting the awkward silence that fell between the two, and Gabriel was instantly sprawled out on the bench next to Sam. He wrapped an arm around the tall Winchester with the wild grin that always spread across his face when he was around him.

“Hey, Gigantor,” he said affectionately, sipping lazily out of a tall, slick glass of pink lemonade undoubtedly spiked with enough sugar to kill a horse. Sam’s eyes sparkled with a practically devoted fondness as he turned towards the archangel, canines glinting as his lips tugged into a wide smile. The nicknames Gabriel had given him, as varied as they were, was Gabe’s substitute for ‘honey’ and ‘babe’, partly because Sam didn’t like those sugary names- neither does Dean, Castiel thought, not that he would ever call his Winchester by a pet name- and partly because he was Gabriel. Sam simply called him Gabe or, when he was feeling particularly humorous, ‘Lollipop’, because it made them all cringe.

“Enjoying the heat?” Sam asked the angel, taking a sip out of Gabe’s glass before he could move his arm away. Gabe smirked and shook his head.

“My body just needed a wink in the shade. Dean’s practically unconscious in the backyard.”

Castiel sat erect, eyebrows raising. “Is he feeling alright?” he asked, deep voice dipping just slightly in concern. Sam snorted with a mutter under his breath sounding like ‘I doubt it’ while Gabe rolled his eyes at his brother’s unnecessary alarm.

“He’s fine,” Gabriel said passively, and Sam gave Cas a reassuring nod that he actively ignored.

“I’m...I’m going to go check on him,” Cas said, deep voice only slightly hurried. This earned, again, two twin eyerolls from the Winchester and his brother. He tromped quickly down the proche steps and around the tall house that they called their home. He was too preoccupied with his thoughts to simply ‘fly’ over to the backyard. Out from under the shade of the covered porch, the sun began to bore down on him relentlessly, blasting his back with heat and plastering his clothes to his skin.

The field behind their house wasn’t that short a walk away, only fifty or sixty feet, but first you had to trudge up a small hill- that particular hill was an annoying obstacle considering the heat, and by the time Castiel got to the top he was sweating from head to toe, and he absently wiped his brow in mundane fashion. Raking his eyes down the lush but neatly trimmed field he quickly found who he was looking for.

When he saw Dean, at first all he could think was how he looked out there, arms flung wide from his torso and fingers splayed, with jean encased legs spread across the verdant ground like a summer snow angel. Every inch of skin exposed had been tanned to a warm bronze. He was resting under the freshly assembled canopy, which had been evidently painstaking to put up. From here, Cas could see that the Winchester’s eyes were closed and an uncharacteristically serene expression was spread across his face. The faintest breath of wind rustled through his brown hair, and a corner of Dean’s lips rose in what could only be contentment.

The angel felt his heart lurch in affection, and he found himself pausing. The last thing he wanted to do was disturb the Winchester- he didn’t want to be responsible for wiping that peaceful expression off of his face. He simply stood there in the heat, admiring from afar, relishing that calm smile on his human’s face.

That was what Castiel was celebrating today.

With his enhanced vision, he took note of the way Dean inhaled, raspy and quick, with sweat drenching his brow and shirt and glistening on his muscular arms.

Cas was at Dean’s side without a second thought. To his chagrin, it startled the Winchester enough that calm smile evaporated and was replaced by surprise. But since they’d been truly together, Dean had stopped being angry when Cas appeared out of nowhere- but he was always surprised. Castiel suspected he might not ever get used to it- not with the way his reflexes were honed. It was both a blessing and a heartache. A gift in the way Dean would never be caught so off guard, would always be ready- a curse in the way that he could never be completely free of the hard, bloody life he didn’t deserve. Always be wary of threat, like a desert creature’s forever caution of the skies, almost waiting for the rare hawk to strike from above.

Cas’s concern lessened slightly upons seeing how Dean’s eyes crinkled as he looked up at him, his briefly tense body relaxing.

“‘Sup, Cas?” he asked, voice like crumpled paper.

“You’re dehydrated,” the angel accused, both concern and irritated in his own way. Like Dean exposing himself to summer heat had personally insulted him. “You must get out of the heat and ingest large quantities of water or the probability of your getting a heat stroke rises significantly.” He cocked his head, and there’s an almost audible drop of teasing in his voice. “Do you enjoy risking your life, Dean?”

Even though Dean knew Castiel wasn’t being completely serious, his nostrils flared just slightly and he snorted, rolling his bright green eyes. “It’s not my fault your brother’s an asshole,” he replied, his voice a note annoyed but entertained. “It would’ve taken him, what, a whole half second flat to assemble this thing. Probably less. But nooo, he wanted “authenticity” or whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean. Self-righteous asshole.”

“This is Gabriel’s first true Fourth of July.“ Castiel said simply, as if it explained everything-- which it kind of did. It was important to the archangel that today would be particularly memorable. And considering the angel himself, it was bound to be.

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean grumbled. “Yours too. Me and Sam haven’t had a real Fourth in a long time.” He lost focus for a moment, feeling his mind drift into memories- one specific memory. The memory itself was warm and wonderful, but when he snapped back into reality it felt sad and left an empty feeling in the gut of his chest. He felt a hand softly brush the skin of his cheek, and looked up to see a slightly somber angel looking down at him. Dean cleared his throat, wondering how sad he must have looked to make Castiel feel bad, and he scooted backwards on the grass until his head was in the angel’s laugh. He felt a small smile slide across his face, chasing the cold feeling away and easing the concern in Castiel’s eyes.

“He’s, uh, not his usual lazy self today, I’ll give him that,” Dean said, awkwardly returning to the previous subject. “I think this is a good spot to set off the fireworks, don't you think? We just pull out some chairs, a cooler with some beers, wait till it's gets dark. Sam will probably end up lighting his shirt on fire like when he was in the fourth grade- God, that was funny- and Gabe will probably make his fireworks insane. Stupid unfair archangel powers. He'll probably have some in different shapes like freaking movie special effects and make them rain sprinkles or butterflies or something." He chuckled to himself. "At least someone’s excited about fireworks around here." He winked at the angel, feeling a warm sensation swirl in his stomach as his eyes drank in the angel above him. He looked so handsome, despite the sweat beading his forehead and arms, and he would’ve reached up and kissed him if his back didn’t hurt so fucking much.

He was what Dean was celebrating today. Castiel. Being with him.

Castiel’s arms were almost absentmindedly rubbing Dean’s collarbone, and it took a second for Dean’s last comment to register with him. When it did, the corner of his lip twitched, as if unsure to smile or frown. He sank backwards on his heels, expression deciding to be troubled. Dean lifted his head and slowly flipped over- damn, my back- grass clinging to the darkened, sweat-drenched V of his grey t-shirt.

“Hey...” he said, feeling his lips curve up in a smile. “You know what the best thing about today is?”

Castiel looked up, sapphire blues glittering with a sort of bereaved resignation, as if he had accepted something he didn’t want to. “Fireworks?” he asked, smiling without any humor.

“No, idiot. The best thing about today...” He leaned closer, popping the bubble of space between them. He was soon on his hands and knees in front of Castiel, inhaling the earthy smell of the angel. He found the tang of salt in the smell surprisingly arousing, considering it was just sweat. But sweat on Cas was...never a bad thing.

“Dean...” Cas began to say, but his parched throat made the name come out like a shout in a sandstorm. His pupils, fixed to the Winchester's own captivating green orbs, began to quiver and dilate, and the summer heat was suddenly overwhelming. It swept over him like a wave and he felt his oxygen evaporate in his lungs, and despite his mood he found himself eager to close the space between them completely. A hot flush spread through his cheeks, and Dean bared his white teeth in an impish smile, making the angel’s insides feel like they were melting.

Soon, Dean was so close Castiel could smell the salt on his upper lip. He felt an irrational urge to taste it, along with the entirety of the Winchester’s mouth, but to his instant annoyance Dean paused inches before meeting the angel’s lips.

“The best thing about today...” he repeated, voice a whisper that trembled through Castiel's very skin, shivering through his bones, “...is the hotdogs. Sam makes kickass summer dogs.”

Castiel blinked very rapidly at one of the worst attempts at humor known to man, and Dean sprung to his feet and made to book it back to the house, senseless deep laughter bursting out of his mouth. No one thought Dean Winchester was funny more than Dean Winchester.

Castiel was not amused.

With a motion so quick even Dean Winchester hadn’t seen it coming, the angel shot out an arm and without even leaning to the side, gripped the exhunter by the ankled and with tremendous angelic strength, gave a firm and fierce jerk. He hadn’t even stepped outside the shade of the canopy before he fell hard onto the suddenly painful grass, and he was dragged right back to where he started. Wincing and spluttering, he looked up bewildered at his angel, who wore a scarily cross expression the Cas equivalent of one of Sam’s bitchfaces. In fact, it was eerily similar to Sam’s Bitch-did-not face.

“You are not allowed to mess with my emotions in that manner,” he said, his voice bossy and irritated, but with an underlying current of something Dean couldn’t put his finger on. He stared at the angel, hazel eyes wide as he wrestled with what to say. He’d just been teasing...Castiel continued, voice deep and utterly serious. “And say something as foolish as that and think it humorous. I hope, for your sake, you have something to make up for such atrocity.”

Dean blinked.

Apparently he wasn’t the only tease here.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said quickly, crawling up to the angel and placing his hands on his chest. It only took the lightest amount of pressure to have Castiel falling like a leaf onto the ground. He clambered across the man, hands on either side of Castiel’s face keeping himself up, his whole body hovering over the other's. “I’ll get right on that.”

<><><><><><><><><><><><>

Gabriel sure was whiny when he wanted something. Usually Sam was a pushover and let him get what he wanted, eventually, but this time he was being as stubborn as his brother and wouldn’t budge an inch on the subject.

“But whhhhhyyy?” he moaned, rolling over on the tall Winchester and interrupting his reading for the billionth time in the past ten seconds.

“Because holidays are something you wait for. The whole purpose of them is waiting until the moment when you celebrate- it’s what makes it special.”

“But waiting is so boring...” the archangel pouted, his voice deepening in annoyance. Sam rolled his eyes from behind the book, and didn’t spare Gabriel a look. He already knew that the archangel’s tawny eyes would be turned on full puppy mode. But Sam Winchester was the master of puppy dog looks, the expert- he’d perfected his to an art.

“Get over it.”

“You’re so heartless,” Gabriel muttered. “This is my first Fourth of July. Don’t you want to make me happy, Sammy?”

“Speeding up time so you can blow things up faster is cheating.”

“It’s only a couple of hours!” the archangel protested, brushing his long brown hair out of his face and pushing the ground lazily with a foot, making the bench rock. “The sun’s already setting- it’ll be like no time at all!”

“Still cheating.”

Gabe groaned, muttering ‘no fun’ under his breath, and flopped off the bench, making to stomp into the house with a pout on his face with bottom lip out and chin set.

“Ah ah ah,” Sam tutted executively, grabbing the angel gently by an arm without looking up from his book. “Get back here.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and sighed exaggeratingly, but he turned back around with no resistance and sat roughly back into the chair. Sam snaked his arm around the archangel’s shoulder and massaged the archangel’s shoulderblade, and Gabriel felt his lips stretch into a smile as he snuggled up into the huge Winchester’s muscular side, curling his smaller legs up to his chest and plopping a head on his shoulder.

“Trust me,” Sam said calmly. He finally looked up from his novel and met the angel in the eyes. “Waiting only makes it better in the end.”

“But what if it’s not?” Gabriel pondered quietly, but then gnawed on his lip as though he hadn’t meant to say the thought aloud.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” the Winchester asked, craning his neck to look at his angel in the eye. In the time that Sam had gotten to know him, he started recognizing the looks his archangel got. When it looked like he was entertained he was actually vulnerable or feeling awkward. When he acted too happy Sam knew he was feeling so down in the dumps he could barely stand it, but didn't want anyone else to know- especially Sam. Gabriel always tried to spare Sam all sadness, but the Winchester always ended up wringing him like a towel, letting all of those raw emotions he kept up inside squeeze out in buckets. There was this great, vast depth to Gabriel that he hardly let show, and Sam knew that was part of the reason Gabriel intrigued him so much. He put on the face of the goof, the trickster, the slacker when he felt all human emotions just as much, if not more intensely, than everyone else. He was the most human person Sam had ever met.

“I don’t know,” Gabriel said artlessly with a forced chuckle. “Just been so excited. Don’t...don’t want to be disappointed, I guess.” The archangel blushed, as if he was ashamed, but Sam put down his book and nuzzled into his hair affectionately. He knew exactly what Gabriel meant. To be afraid of disappointment. To be excited all day about something yet to come and when the moment finally passes it isn’t what you expected it to be. It was so beautifully human Sam found himself tilting the archangel’s head up to look at him more clearly, his green eyes glistening with devotion.

Gabriel flushed, feeling as though his masculinity was truly at stake, but all worries snapped away as Sam pressed his mouth to his, sending real fireworks through him- fiery and beautiful and almost out of control.

Sam was out of breath when he broke the kiss, and Gabriel just sat there, feeling love buzz through his whole body like a million firecrackers.

“It will be awesome,” Sam whispered, when he managed to get oxygen back into his lungs. “Just because you’re here.”

Gabriel beams, cheeks still flushed with flame. “Aw, shucks, Gigantor, you make me feel like a blue ribbon apple pie.” Sam rolled his eyes at the corny joke, but suddenly Gabe took initiative and brushed the Winchester’s cheekbone with a cool lip. A trail of fire led from his cheekbone to his neck, where Gabriel looked back up at Sam with mirth lighting his eyes. They sat there, just gazing at each other like that, until Gabriel broke the calm silence and wrapped his arms around Sam, dragging him out of the chair and tackling the massive man to the porch ground.

“Ahhh, Gabriel, what the hell?!” Sam gasped through surprised laughter, after colliding with the wooden porch and recovering from the sudden fall.

“Enough with all the sissy stuff!” the archangel roared, his deep voice guttural and courageous. His eyes blazed with mischief and he smiled widely, pinning Sam down by both arms. “I HAVE COME TO CONQUER AND ATTACK WITHOUT FAIL! I WILL TICKLE YOU UNTIL YOU BEG FOR MERCY AND EVEN THEN WILL NOT RELENT! NEVER SHALL I FALTER- UNTIL YOU LET ME SET OFF FIREWORKS!”

“You. Wouldn't. Dare,” Sam growled, scandalized, but that wasted precious air he wished he kept as Gabriel began to furiously, incessantly, mercilessly tickle him in places he was particularly sensitive. Soon hot tears ran down his face as his chest wracked with uncontrollable laugher. He screamed and kicked and practically punched but the archangel was a freaking rock on top of him and refused to be moved. He was laughing so hard his throat ached and his lungs begged for oxygen, and the less oxygen he had the more high-pitched his giggles became, making Gabriel roar with victorious laughter.

“Get off me, you child!” Sam screamed through the irrepressible giggles. Gabriel couldn’t help but think that even giggling and screaming in a high-pitched tone Sam’s voice was still incredibly sexy. Hell, everything about him was sexy, but Gabriel really had a thing for Sam Winchester’s laugh. He LOVED it. It was- though he would never admit it- almost arousing, if you could believe it, that joy on his face accompanied deep throaty rumble. But it was mostly really freaking hilarious. Even, if not especially, when it was hysterical.

“I surrender, I surrender!” The Winchester’s muscles were starting to fail him under the constant exhausting assaults of tickling, and he was getting very very tired and very very out of breath.

Gabriel paused, and Sam quickly gulped down air. The archangel leaned down from where he straddled the Winchester’s waist, lips brushing his ear as he whispered roughly, voice borderline tantalizing, “Do you agree to fireworks, Sam Winchester?”

Sam grew silent, and with a sigh he turned to look Gabriel in his golden syrupy eyes. They glittered with joy, but wore a playmask of the victory of battle.

That’s what Sam and Gabriel were celebrating. Each other. Screwing around, having fun, connecting with each other in ways no one else could.

“Nope.”

“...WRONG ANSWER!”

<><><><><>

The next morning, Sam found himself slightly hungover with clothes slightly charred from a mad sparkler incident he didn't entirely remember. If Einstein hadn't been slightly crazy, he would have been driven absolutely insane by the insane stunts of Gabriel's fireworks. Let's just say the shapes came to life in a mystifying, jawdropping, awe inspiring ways, one of which ended up with Dean nearly getting his head chomped off by a magical fireworks dragon. Dean had several burns and singed eyebrows, courtesy of Gabriel the archangel.

Who had found the holiday extremely entertaining. Better than he had imagined- after Sam made him wait.

And Cas?

Waking up that morning he was in an uncharacterisitcally cheery mood- his opinion of fireworks vastly different after participating in lighting them the night before. You could say he developed an intense fascination with them, 8-balls especially...until they accidentally hit Sam right in the ass and sent him howling out of his chair.

Then he loved them.