Sabriel One Shots

Drunk Sad Boi

I got my new computer and ahh it's all good again... I just repaired my old one because I'm Mr. Hackerman. 

The dude at Microcenter said I needed to get a new one but I was able to fix it, the people who are licensed are retarded I guess since my noob self figured it out. 

So the new episode... All the Sabriel... All the sexy Richard Speight Jr... STILL NOT OVER IT FOR TWO DAYS

FUcking Zex MaN UgH 

I wanna fuck Richard in the ass while Jared sucks me off, that's not a tall order, is it? Jared's a tall order Richard not so much.

Sorry I'll stop, enjoy my stories, not my weird self

-Daniel *kisses*

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So when my grace is gone, I can get drunk. This is what lead me to hide alcohol in my room, drinking to try and forget Asmodeus and all that happened to me. I got frustrated when I still hadn't forgotten anything so I just drank more and more, I noticed how much I'd actually drank and I put the bottle under my bed. Too much. Way too much. Everything's a little blurry after that, I remember thinking about Sam and hobbling drunkenly to his room. He was surprised to see me at his door, his gorgeous puppy eyes were wide and I probably stared at him more than I should've since I was drunk. I remember crying into Sam's chest, his room was a lot warmer than mine which was cold reminding me of the cage Asmodeus kept me in. I didn't tell him any of the torture I went through I just cried, he offered the comfort. But I knew there had to be more.

Only because I had woken up with his arms around my waist, my back pressed against his chest. I scrambled out of the bed as fast as I could, I had a shirt and shorts on. He had no shirt and long pants on, I glanced over and my reflection showed I had Sam's shirt on. I blushed and pulled it off quickly, fumbling with it stupidly. My head was pounding and my heart was racing, Sam stirred in the bed and I flicked my gaze over to him. I stared at him like a deer in headlights.

"Are you okay?" He asked and I could barely hear his voice over the pounding of my head and heart. 

"Um," I spoke with the raspiest voice of the century, "maybe."

"What do you mean maybe?" He chuckled a little and raised an eyebrow.

"Did we-um," I motioned from him to me. I tried so incredibly hard to not stare at the bare chest that seemed to endlessly magnetize toward my line of vision.

"No," he chuckled before his expression went more serious, "you said it was cold in your room so I put my shirt on you and let you sleep in here. You were upset and drunk, I still don't know what about but I have my guesses I just wanted to help." Dear father, smite his sweet and kind soul for I can not fucking handle it.

"Right," I said with embarrassment probably evident in my face.

"Look it's alright Gabe," Sam said and I turned away from him. I took a deep breath and sighed, trying to not look at him. 

"Do you want to talk to me about why you were drunk out of your mind?" He offered light-heartedly, everything in my being said no do not give out yourself that's so stupid just go and move on. You'll be fine. But I wound up sitting on the opposite side of the bed, my legs crossed and my hands tangled together. He smiled a little.

"I know it's hard for you to trust I get it," Sam said gently and the kindness in his voice gave me goosebumps. Trust. I trust him. Fuck that's not what I wanted. 

"I can't sleep in the cold room," I huffed, "the cage was cold." He nodded, he was listening and he didn't plan on interrupting or judging. The feelings I had for him were developed because of how kind he was to me, how he took care of me, how he listened, his determination, and also that fucking face. Shit stop thinking.