Heavenly Brews

Chapter Eleven

Gabriel’s POV

I’m awake before my eyes are open, and I’m warm but uncomfortable. Something is wrapped around my shoulders, holding me to it, and I’m slouched over sideways with my neck in the crook of the warm thing tucking me in. I relax, slumping back against it and the arm, I’ve decided that’s what it is, tightens reflexively and possessively. I drift back to sleep, sighing in content.

~*~*~*~

The solid warmth beside me stirs, and I vaguely register it from the fathoms of dreamless sleep. It tenses, draws a sharp breath and tries to unlatch its arm from me and pull away. Unfortunately, it’s my source of warmth and I was leaning against it, so I fall to the side after it and hit the floor with a small thwack.

My eyes flew open and I flail, fully awake and startled. Muscled locked, straining against the ground I assess for danger, and draw my eyebrows together in confusion when I hear a pained chuckle. Sitting up I glance around until I see Sam, a few feet away and smiling at me. Blinking, I register that I’m still on the floor in front of the couch at Sam’s place. I sheepishly stand up and groan when my legs sting from being bent at a strange angle all night.

Stretching it out, I smirk at Sam, “You’re a clingy sleeper, you know that?”

He rubs his temple, probably soothing a headache, “Sorry.”

I’m not very hung-over, he drank more than I did, so I go through his kitchen cabinets until I find a glass and fill it with water. Handing it to Sam I smile, “It’s fine. You’re just a cuddly moose.”

This time a bit of color tints his cheeks and he takes the glass with a thank you. I grab myself a glass and set about finding the ingredients to make pancakes. Sam walks into the kitchen and leans against the counter, and I start measuring flour and milk. Grinning, I grab a pinch of flour and flick at Sam’s sleepy face.

It takes a moment for him to register what I did, his face frozen and flecked with white power. He blinks and touches a finger to his nose then looks at his fingers as if he’s never seen them before. Smirking when he looks up like a moose in the headlights, I turn back to mixing the batter and do my best not to laugh at his confused expression.

I did not expect him to grab the sugar and dump it on my hair, and I certainly did not expect him to grin innocently and sip his water like a damn aristocrat. Shaking my head, the sugar falls and I have to close my eyes to avoid the now dangerous weapon. When I open them again, Sam is walking to the table and I can’t let him have the last say. So I take the mixing spoon and grab Sam, spinning him around and bopping him on the nose. His face scrunches up and I laugh, waving the spoon in victory.

Sam grabs for the spoon, determination and joy mixing in his eyes as he fights a smile in attempt to look angry. I try to back away in time, but he moves to quickly and we wrestle for the spoon, succeeding in only getting batter all over our hands. Seeing an advantage, I link my fingers though his and spin us around, grinning as his eyes squint in confusion and his eyebrows go down. I lead us around the kitchen, winking as Sam relaxes and steps in time with me.

Swinging us back towards the counter, I distract Sam by pulling him close and putting an arm around his waist. He’s too busy turning red at our close proximity to notice I’m actually reaching behind him. Grabbing the bowl of half stirred batter, I put my free hand on his shoulder and act like I’m pulling him down to spin him under my arm. He goes with it, and when he’s turned back around I lift the bowl and dump it over his head, the batter falling out and covering his head before running down his face and in his hair.

Some of it got on my –his– sweatshirt, which would have been rather upsetting had I not been bent double laughing at how ridiculous Sam looked. He wipes the batter from his face, then gives me the universal you’re–gonna–get–it look mixed with an uniquely Sam bitchface.