Mint and apricots

43. June 29, 2006

I'm finally back! I couldn't wait to let you back into the story with me 🌻

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Caught off guard, Sam hastened to clear his throat.

"I think I have to make a preliminary remark," he declared, only after sorting things out in his mind.

"Everything you want. I'm listening."

"Well, needless to say... both my brother and I like men," he muttered awkwardly.

"I figured as much," Gabriel nodded with a good-natured smile, only because Sam seemed to need a motion from him before he could continue.

"Okay, well," the young man laughed nervously. "Even in this, Dean... Dean has always been very..."

"Bold?" Gabriel came to his aid, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, quite," Sam agreed gratefully. "Outgoing, dynamic, relaxed. As soon as he could, as soon as Mom and Dad gave him permission to, he started going out at night. He must have been fourteen. Sure, for the first two years he had a curfew at 10 p.m, then at 11 p.m., and before he graduated nights out were just for Saturdays, but he... he didn't waste a lot of those staying at home, that's it. He has always been a socially active kind of guy, so much more than me. And if at first he went out with his friends, it didn't take him long to start getting busy with girls."

"Oh, females," Gabriel commented at that point. His left elbow was resting on the back of the sofa, his chin on his hand and he was now scrutinizing Sam with raised eyebrows and a face that was the embodiment of the most insolent sarcasm. "How amazingly audacious. Please do go on."

Sam was grateful for how his irony could, once again, make him giggle and cheer him up. For a moment, the youngest man was able not to wonder if Gabriel was masking some kind of discomfort.

"Yes, well, after a short period of field testing he understood his true calling, switched to boys and never looked back," his guest reassured him a moment later.

"Hm. What timeline are we talking about?"

Sam had to think about it for a few seconds, bewildered but amused by the track change.

"I'm pretty sure he gave his first kiss to a boy in 10th grade."

"Hm," Gabriel repeated, shrugging like an unimpressed football coach. "Average timing."

Sam chuckled and did not refrain from teasing him, as it was clear that Gabriel wanted.

"What about you? When did you kiss a boy for the first time?"

"April 7, 1993. It was a Wednesday," the interviewee announced without the slightest hesitation. "Oliver Whitman. Hazel eyes, a hideous bowl cut and some rather adorable freckles on his cheeks."

"You still remember the day? The exact date?" Sam emphasized, impressed, and Gabriel grinned with evident satisfaction.

"I remember the place and time too, for that matter. We were at the high school football pitch, dirtier than ever after training, and it must have been around six in the afternoon. There was that warm orange light, you know, the one that precedes sunset when days start getting longer, towards summer."

Sam stared at him for a few more seconds, trying to figure out if Gabriel was making fun of him.

"Jesus," he murmured at last, when he was convinced that the thirty-one-year-old's eyes were shining with authentic memories. "Looks like it was a memorable kiss."