𝒶𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓉𝓉𝑒 (
onlycareaboutshipping) wrote in
bakerstreet2015-02-05 11:05 am
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On Your Doorstep

On Your Doorstep
They ended up on your doorstep, quite literally. Bloody, possibly. Bruised, most definitely, though the wounds may be mental. You probably don't know them from Adam, yet you couldn't find it in you to turn them away - whether they wanted you to or not. So you opened up your home, just for a little while.
But it's getting to be more than a little while. Both of you are finding a comfort zone, because you didn't simply open up your home. Admit it or don't, but you've opened up your heart all the same.
Their's is slowly following, if its reluctant at all.
1. Comment with your character, preferences, & what role you'd like to play.
2. Tag others.
3. Thread
Sam Winchester l Supernatural l ota
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For a moment, he wondered what was going on, who he was and why he was awake. Only the jerk-wad frat boys would still be awake, surely. They were probably throwing rocks at the windows again, or ball of soaking well toilet roll.
But he's too tired to do anything about it. He has lectures tomorrow.
He shuffles, trying to make himself comfortable again, and then there's a knock on the door. Well, it sounds more like someone kicking the door.
That was the sound that woke him.
"Alright! Alright! I'm coming..."
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Sam was used to being in all kinds of weather digging up graves or waiting out some creature. He was used to doing injured too but that didn't mean it sucked any less when it happened. He hadn't meant to get in a fight with idiot frat boys, it's just they were bugging Jess and not taking no for an answer so he confronted them and gotten the crap kicked out of him for it. He could have won the fight but he might have killed someone and that would have brought up a whole host of questions he didn't need.
Jess and Brady had offered to drive him back to his dorm but Sam had waved them off assuming a ten minute walk would be just that. Then the rain had decided to join in the party and dump a load of wet on him and Sam had decided that enough was enough. He didn't really want to impose on Gabe...dude ran a coffee shop and had class too, but he was the closest and Sam needed help. So here he was pounding on the door, a dripping mess of blood and rain.
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Not only because it looked like the guy had just jumped in a pool fully clothed, but because of the split lip and torn lapels too. "What the fuck?" He said, getting out the way and letting Sam in.
He glanced down at the puddle on the doorstep too, before shutting the door and following his unexpected guest. "I'm gonna get you some towels."
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Sam started to shiver once the warm air in the shop hit his wet skin. "I'm sorry to bug you," he said with a soft laugh, "I know it's late Gabe and you have class tomorrow but you were closest and well I needed a breather. Sorry." Sam was always careful to apologize to people for putting them out one of the many ways his lack of a settled life reveals itself. He can hear his fathers voice even now yelling at him for not just walking home and handing the problem of wet clothes and blood himself.
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Now they weren't basked in the eerie glow of the street lights, Gabriel could get a proper look at Sam. The split lip looked worse, and before he came back round, he switched the coffee machine back on again, and grabbed the first aid box.
"Take off your jacket. Then you sit." Gabriel said, pointing to one of the tables underneath one of the low-hanging lights. "And then you're going to tell me what the hell you've been doing."
Sam did occasionally come in with bumps and bruises. Sometimes he came in for double espresso and he didn't look like he'd slept for a week. But Gabriel had always put that down to some sort of sport and too much studying. Now though, now he was concerned.
"You're not doing any of that bare-knuckle boxing crap are you?"
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Sam starts drying himself off once he's free of his torn jacket. He tosses the jacket over a chair and winces at how ruined it is. He could have gotten at least another year's worth of use out of it. He keeps rubbing the towels over his hair and face as he sits down hunching slightly just like he always does. "No....Jess and Brady dragged me to a frat party and the idiot hosts wouldn't leave Jess alone...so I stepped in and they beat the hell out of me."
Honestly the wounds weren't all that bad compared to some of the ones he'd gotten while hunting it was the fact that he had to throw a easily winnable fight so that his past could stay hidden. "If the stupid rain hadn't started I would have been able to make it back to my dorm and fix myself up."
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...Well, maybe the stupid dares had sort of been his thing.
"I'm surprised Jess still likes those things." Gabriel said, finding the antiseptic wipes. Those jerks hit on any and every girl in the room, whether said girl liked it or not. And normally, they did not.
He gave a soft sigh, before handing the packet over to Sam. "I forgot that you shrink when washed. Put that on your face." He added. "I'll make you a coffee. And then I'm going to toss you into an industrial drier."
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"She doesn't but it was drag Sam out of his dorm room night and it was the only thing she and Brady could think of to do,' Sam says as he pulls out some wipes and starting to clean his face. "Just a black coffee okay I have a paper to finish tomorrow and need my sleep."
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He brings over two steaming mugs of coffee, setting one down in front of Sam and then takes the wipes from him. "You're terrible at this." He says, and presses the antibacterial cloth to the cut on Sam's bottom lip. "How often to lawyers get into fist fights?"
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"I don't even want to know if that actually exists," Sam says with a wince as his lip stings. "And for the record I tried to talk them into stopping first they were the dicks who threw the first punch."
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He stops when Sam winces. "Surprise kiddo, jocks are dicks. I don't mean to generalise but," He shrugs, "They are all dicks. Fighting them with fists doesn't help. It doesn't teach them a lesson either."
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"Yeah these guys didn't learn a fucking thing," Sam says, "they are already bragging to anyone who would listen that they beat up a pre-law student. Another notch on the nerd belt."
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Sam colors slightly as he sips his coffee. "I didn't want to fight them,...I hate fighting." Says the man who sleeps with a knife under his pillow and jumps at every little sound. "But I hated the way they were treating Jess."
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"And what would you have done," Sam asks knowing that it most likely be something prank like because that seems to be Gabe's MO. "and my paper will get done mother hen you know it always does."
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Sam laughs warmly. "You are so lucky you are cute," he teases lightly, "you get away with so damm much sometimes."
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"I try." He replies. "But you didn't tell me they hit you that hard on the head."
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"What they didn't hit me on the head," Sam said, "Why would you think that?"
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Sam goes bright red and ducks his head. He'd been crushing on Gabe forever, since the first time he entered the shop according to Jess and he really hadn't meant for Gabe to know that. "That's because you are," he mutters his bangs in his face.
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He's a little lost on how to react for a moment, and doesn't actually reply, not until he's got up from his seat, gone behind the counter and poured himself another coffee.
This one he drinks black, without any sugar at all.
It seems to do the trick.
"Not as cute as you."
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Sam goes even redder and looks like he wants to crawl into a ball and die. "I'm not cute. I'm a stupid clumsy moose and trips over his own two feet and gets the crap kicked out of him on a daily basis....I'm nobody."
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