I'm in a Gabe mood because I just went back and watched every episode that the trickster/Gabe was in (not including season 9) so yeah

Sabriel

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Sam-

I sat on my bed shivering. It was probably negative four degrees outside, and the stone walls of the bunker didn't do much good. Oh yeah, and the heat was out.

It was me, blankets, Netflix, and a bowl of soup until Dean and Cas got back from a hunt. The familiar flapping of wings came from behind me, kind of startling at first.

"Is something wrong?"

"Yeah. You're freezing."

"Oh. Hi Gabe. I thought you were Cas."

"I know. Scoot. And let me under the blankets."

"Why?"

"Because body heat."

I lifted up my pile of blankets, letting a drift under. I shuddered and tucked farther into myself.

"Yeah okay." Gabe laughed "this isn't going to work. Lose the blankets."

"But they're the only things keeping me warm!"

"Not for long."

He grabbed my blankets and yanked them off.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, my teeth chattering.

Gabe lay on top of me, warming me up only the slightest.

"I'm still f-freezing."

"Okay."

He stood back up, and took off his green jacket. Then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"What are you doing?"

"Trust me."

That is not something you want to hear someone like Gabe say

"Someone like Gabe? Bitch ain't nobody like me."

"S-stay outta my head."

"Oh yeah, sorry. Now, one sec-o"

"Really. What the h-hell are you doing."

"This."

He closed his eyes and three sets of huge wings spread out from his back. They were a pale golden-brown, a lot like his hair. As it got down to the third, smallest set, they turned more white.

"Woah. Can I- Does it hurt to-"

"You can touch them. It's actually quite- ahhh!"

"Sorry!" I cried, pulling my hand back from the tip of his wing.

"N-no it's fine. It doesn't hurt."

He sat back down next to me, his wings radiating heat. I touched the soft feathers, making sure to be careful. Warmth washed over me as I started to run my hands down them.

"Mmm" Gabe practically moaned. He looked up, biting his lip.

"Gabe?"

"Y-yeah." He gasped.

"Is this... Pleasurable?"

"Very."

"Oh. Um.. Okay."

"Stroking wings is like the biggest turn on for- holyfuckingshitSamstopinteruptingme"

I had started moving closer to his back, using both hands to pet his wings. The short, still shirtless man was quivering more the faster I went. It got to the point where he was shaking with pleasure.

"S-Sam, you have no clue how good that feels. I mean- Ahhh! Stop! I mean, don't stop.."

I was cuddled up to him now, almost on his lap. He was flapping his wings, not intentionally it seemed, but like a defense mechanism to protect him from someone trying to weaken him.

"Sorry. They kind of just do that when.. Well..."

"When you get turned on?"

"Yeah."

I sat up and straddled his legs, reaching up to brush one of the wild feathery masses. Almost as soon as I touched one, they calmed down and wrapped around my waist. I flipped him over, so he was underneath me, pressed into the bed. His middle wings stretched out around me, his bigger ones folding down by the floor. One of the small ones touched my face.

He brushed the hair out of my eyes, then sat up and kissed me. It was more passionately then he had ever kissed me before (that one time during spin the bottle and last month when he was very drunk) and I kissed him back. He slid off my jacket and started to work on my flannel.

"Damn you Winchesters and all your layers." He whispered into my neck.

"Damn you ArcAngels and all your sexyness."

"Damn you two and all your grossness. Get a room."

"Dean! We're in my room!"

He laughed and shut the door behind him.

--

Dean always walks in