Sam and Gabriel | Introductions
Feb. 27th, 2024 05:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsSam and Gabriel make introductions, things get... a bit heavy.
Gabriel, sitting in his jacket on the smokers' porch and nearing the end of his cigarette, knew on some level he should probably be able to place the man on the other side of the window.
But he could not.
This was not entirely his fault. The mansion had not seen so many new arrivals since after M-Day, and most of those were returnees whose deaths he'd just witnessed or heard about. And he had been less preoccupied then — or differently preoccupied, anyway, and people introduced themselves at a healthy clip.
But he would acknowledge he made little effort to get to know the crush of people that had been arriving at the mansion, mostly because he hadn't been here and because he'd just been busy dealing with the shitstorm that his life had recently become.
Hence the minutes he'd been staring through the window, confused. Well. He snubbed the end of his cigarette into the ashtray and stood. Time to make a choice
He popped into the kitchen. "Hello... you," he said cautiously to the other man.
Sam turned around at the sound of another voice in the kitchen and immediately held out a hand to shake. "Sam Guthrie. Nice to meet you....."
He trailed off, not wanting to seem rude, but there were so many people here he'd never met, and many more he'd only met in passing.
"Gabriel." It clicked for him. "The bartender, right? Or you were?" Someone had mentioned this to him. He couldn't recall who or when. And there had been another, Sam, maybe? He couldn't even remember anymore. He shook the man's hand, feeling awkwardly formal considering. "Sorry, I — I mean, I've seen you around, I think, I just..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Things have been a little, you know..."
"Used to be. I'm in with XFi now." Sam said easily. "I get it, it's been.... it was a long Christmas into January......you on one of the teams or just one of those folks that's around?"
"Yes," Gabriel said with a smile. He shrugged his coat off onto a new chair. The truth was, it had been a long few years, but he didn't want to tell Sam that. He remembered when he thought the busy period was an anomaly here. "I work at Snow Valley," he said, moving past Sam toward a fridge. "But for a while, when I first came here, I was just around." He glanced over at the other man, sizing him up for a second. "Used to be a bartender too."
"I stopped workin' at Kirby's right after the flood, moved into the mansion, and got hired to XFi within the week." Sam said, shrugging. "Yeah? Where'd you tend bar?"
"Here and there." Gabriel opened the fridge, scanning its contents. "Places in Chelsea, Hell's Kitchen. East Williamsburg." He wasn't sure how long Sam had been in the city, but he assumed the pattern wouldn't be lost on him. "Some nicer places, some dives." He grabbed a beer. "Did that for years, until it stopped making sense. Or maybe it stopped being fun?" He glanced over at Sam, holding the bottle up. "Want one?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'll take one. Thanks. It was easy enough money but- I'm a lot happier actually helpin' folks over at X-Factor. All of it's a damn sight better than killin' myself in a mine shaft though so I'll take it."
He offered the other man a small awkward smile. "Surprised I ain't seen you 'round afore now. I thought I'd run into most everyone close to my age already."
Gabriel smiled again, appraising Sam as he handed over the beer in his hand. He guessed they actually were, in fact, close in age, and he was relieved he still read that way. Of all his secrets, that wasn't one he thought that much about.
Yeah," he said with a shrug, turning to grab a second bottle. "Work's been a little crazy. I haven't been around as much. Ebbs and flows, I guess" He gently nudged the fridge shut, then moved to get a bottle opener from a drawer. "Everyone treating you okay?"
"Except for my siblings you mean?" Sam teased, a more genuine smile pulling at his lips. "Nah, even they're mostly bein' nice to me up here. It's nice...didn't even get a shovel talk from my boyfriend's brother. I mean...I don't care for Warren but that's less him treatin' me poorly and more him bein'...that."
Sam said 'that' with an air of disgust he usually only reserved for the general idea of the Cabots. He knew Warren wasn't all bad but that didn't mean Sam had to like him.
Gabriel cocked an eyebrow as he opened his beer. There was a lot to parse there, and he wasn't sure what order to go in. "Warren's a piece of shit," he said, because it was the easiest place to start. "Here." He handed the bottle opener to Sam.
Sam took the bottle opener and opened his beer easily, taking a slow swig. “He’s helpin’ my brother with his wings and signs my paycheck and those’re about the only good things I can say about him.”
Sam rolled his eyes and then his shoulders, savoring the stretch in his muscles. “Sorry. I’ve been told that I’m real good at talkin’ but not too good at the whole communicatin’ bit.”
"Nah." Gabriel gave him a quizzical look at that. "You seem fine to me? Or maybe I've lived here too long, and my standards have shifted. Cheers." He lifted the bottle before taking a sip. "Anyway, sorry, back up: Siblings? Brother?"
"Oh, sorry." Sam said, shaking his head. "I'm used to folks associatin' me with my 'million' siblings. I got eight younger siblings, three of 'em are here. Paige is closest in age to me, she can rip off her skin to reveal new stuff? It's...different. Jay's got wings and can sing with two voices at once, though he'll tell you that second one is the angels speakin through 'im. And Melody can fly but she lights up like a lightnin' bug so flyin' at night ain't really her speed....the rest're back in Kentucky. Lizzie's graduatin' this year, Elle's growin like a weed, Jeb keeps pickin' fights he can't win, Cissie's all proud of herself for gettin' to be in charge of the chickens, and Lewis is in marchin' band."
Gabriel said nothing, pleased that spycraft had taught him to keep his face neutral. "Well," he said, nodding a bit. "That is certainly a big family."
"Feels bigger when yer the one payin the bills." Sam muttered and then took a swig of his beer, as if trying to pretend he hadn't said anything.
Gabriel, tactfully, took a sip from his own bottle. Ever the bartender, even after retiring, he knew when to let an errant comment go by. "Okay, so you've got three siblings here." He nodded, considering this. "That must be nice," he ventured, though it sounded more like a question. "I mean, it can be lonely here, at least at first. Having built-in people seems like it'd be a good way to adjust. Assuming you all vibe, I guess?"
"Things're...complicated right now but usually we all get on." Sam said with a strained smile. "But that's on another family terrorizin' us and not so much us not likin' each other."
"Of course it is." Gabriel was not entirely sure what to say, but he was the last person who wanted to pry into someone's family dynamic. He was relieved he'd made it this far without Sam asking questions in return. "Family can be complicated," he said with a sympathetic smile. "Okay. Covered Warren being a fucking moron and your white brood. So..." He raised an eyebrow suggestively as he brought the bottle back toward his lips. "Boyfriend?"
Sam couldn't help it, the question made him smile. "Yeah, Clint. He's awful sweet." Sam thought for a moment and then winked at Gabriel. "Pretty sure I've heard Q talk about you more than once, you wouldn't be one of the reasons he's developing feelings, would you?"
Gabriel, to his credit, did not cough mid-swallow, nor did he sputter beer anywhere. Despite every word Sam was saying making him want to flinch, he remained neutral, though his eyebrow did drop back down. He offered Sam a shrug, one that he hoped the other man would read as coy. "Can't speak for Quentin," he said after a second. "But," he added with a small smile, "he's always had way more EQ than people give him credit for."
"I know he does." Sam grumbled, albeit fondly. "But he keeps acting like he done pawned all his damn emotions off to make room for somethin' else......he's my friend and I like 'im but it ain't doin' him any favors to pretend like he don't feel nothin'. Y'know?"
Gabriel made a vague noise of assent as he considered this. He wasn't sure he had a leg to stand on when it came to stuffing your emotions in a lockbox. "Maybe he's jealous of you and Clint." The words left him before he'd even realized he'd decided to say them.
“Then he oughta just fucking say it instead of telling the both of us he’s fine. It ain’t like I don’t know they were hooking’ up before I asked Clint out. And I’m newer to the whole datin’ men thing than him but I do still know when one is hittin’ on me so he can also stop pretending I ain’t caught him red handed.” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, I ain’t dumb.”
"I was kidding." Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. He had been, he thought. Well, mostly anyway. It was so hard to tell. His feelings about these men were all such a complicated knot. "Some people have a harder time putting it all out there than others," he said, being purposefully vague. "Quentin's... complex." He swirled his beer idly. "Part of his appeal," he added.
“I know he is.” Sam said. “He’s prolly the person who took the most weight off my shoulders during the mess at Christmas. But I don’t see what’s the use in bein’ vague and beatin’ around the bush in regard to folks who you know give a shit about you.”
"Your life seems complicated," Gabriel said, more an observation than a judgment, because once again, it's not like he was one to talk. "People have different ways of showing they care," he said with a shrug. He wasn't sure whether to volunteer that Quentin's particular brand of affection seemed earned given how the world he'd moved through it before he got to the mansion, and how it treated him. That wasn't his insight to share. "Just be glad you're not on the list of people he's a complete dick to."
"I haven't known peace once in my life." Sam said, only slightly teasing. "It's exhausting."
“Were you warned about this place?” Gabriel couldn’t suppress his smirk. “This is not where you’re going to find it.”
"Yeah, but at least I don't have to pay rent here." Sam said. "That's honestly half the battle, you can rent a house back home for less than half what I got charged for a one bedroom apartment about as big as a closet up here. It's fucking ridiculous."
"Yeah," Gabriel agreed. "But then you'd be back home." He couldn't help but darken a little at that thought. "That's why New York gets away with being so expensive."
Sam made eye contact as he took another long drink of his beer. "Yeah.... well, I hear caskets are pretty expensive back home. Think New York is prolly cheaper."
Gabriel, sitting in his jacket on the smokers' porch and nearing the end of his cigarette, knew on some level he should probably be able to place the man on the other side of the window.
But he could not.
This was not entirely his fault. The mansion had not seen so many new arrivals since after M-Day, and most of those were returnees whose deaths he'd just witnessed or heard about. And he had been less preoccupied then — or differently preoccupied, anyway, and people introduced themselves at a healthy clip.
But he would acknowledge he made little effort to get to know the crush of people that had been arriving at the mansion, mostly because he hadn't been here and because he'd just been busy dealing with the shitstorm that his life had recently become.
Hence the minutes he'd been staring through the window, confused. Well. He snubbed the end of his cigarette into the ashtray and stood. Time to make a choice
He popped into the kitchen. "Hello... you," he said cautiously to the other man.
Sam turned around at the sound of another voice in the kitchen and immediately held out a hand to shake. "Sam Guthrie. Nice to meet you....."
He trailed off, not wanting to seem rude, but there were so many people here he'd never met, and many more he'd only met in passing.
"Gabriel." It clicked for him. "The bartender, right? Or you were?" Someone had mentioned this to him. He couldn't recall who or when. And there had been another, Sam, maybe? He couldn't even remember anymore. He shook the man's hand, feeling awkwardly formal considering. "Sorry, I — I mean, I've seen you around, I think, I just..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Things have been a little, you know..."
"Used to be. I'm in with XFi now." Sam said easily. "I get it, it's been.... it was a long Christmas into January......you on one of the teams or just one of those folks that's around?"
"Yes," Gabriel said with a smile. He shrugged his coat off onto a new chair. The truth was, it had been a long few years, but he didn't want to tell Sam that. He remembered when he thought the busy period was an anomaly here. "I work at Snow Valley," he said, moving past Sam toward a fridge. "But for a while, when I first came here, I was just around." He glanced over at the other man, sizing him up for a second. "Used to be a bartender too."
"I stopped workin' at Kirby's right after the flood, moved into the mansion, and got hired to XFi within the week." Sam said, shrugging. "Yeah? Where'd you tend bar?"
"Here and there." Gabriel opened the fridge, scanning its contents. "Places in Chelsea, Hell's Kitchen. East Williamsburg." He wasn't sure how long Sam had been in the city, but he assumed the pattern wouldn't be lost on him. "Some nicer places, some dives." He grabbed a beer. "Did that for years, until it stopped making sense. Or maybe it stopped being fun?" He glanced over at Sam, holding the bottle up. "Want one?"
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'll take one. Thanks. It was easy enough money but- I'm a lot happier actually helpin' folks over at X-Factor. All of it's a damn sight better than killin' myself in a mine shaft though so I'll take it."
He offered the other man a small awkward smile. "Surprised I ain't seen you 'round afore now. I thought I'd run into most everyone close to my age already."
Gabriel smiled again, appraising Sam as he handed over the beer in his hand. He guessed they actually were, in fact, close in age, and he was relieved he still read that way. Of all his secrets, that wasn't one he thought that much about.
Yeah," he said with a shrug, turning to grab a second bottle. "Work's been a little crazy. I haven't been around as much. Ebbs and flows, I guess" He gently nudged the fridge shut, then moved to get a bottle opener from a drawer. "Everyone treating you okay?"
"Except for my siblings you mean?" Sam teased, a more genuine smile pulling at his lips. "Nah, even they're mostly bein' nice to me up here. It's nice...didn't even get a shovel talk from my boyfriend's brother. I mean...I don't care for Warren but that's less him treatin' me poorly and more him bein'...that."
Sam said 'that' with an air of disgust he usually only reserved for the general idea of the Cabots. He knew Warren wasn't all bad but that didn't mean Sam had to like him.
Gabriel cocked an eyebrow as he opened his beer. There was a lot to parse there, and he wasn't sure what order to go in. "Warren's a piece of shit," he said, because it was the easiest place to start. "Here." He handed the bottle opener to Sam.
Sam took the bottle opener and opened his beer easily, taking a slow swig. “He’s helpin’ my brother with his wings and signs my paycheck and those’re about the only good things I can say about him.”
Sam rolled his eyes and then his shoulders, savoring the stretch in his muscles. “Sorry. I’ve been told that I’m real good at talkin’ but not too good at the whole communicatin’ bit.”
"Nah." Gabriel gave him a quizzical look at that. "You seem fine to me? Or maybe I've lived here too long, and my standards have shifted. Cheers." He lifted the bottle before taking a sip. "Anyway, sorry, back up: Siblings? Brother?"
"Oh, sorry." Sam said, shaking his head. "I'm used to folks associatin' me with my 'million' siblings. I got eight younger siblings, three of 'em are here. Paige is closest in age to me, she can rip off her skin to reveal new stuff? It's...different. Jay's got wings and can sing with two voices at once, though he'll tell you that second one is the angels speakin through 'im. And Melody can fly but she lights up like a lightnin' bug so flyin' at night ain't really her speed....the rest're back in Kentucky. Lizzie's graduatin' this year, Elle's growin like a weed, Jeb keeps pickin' fights he can't win, Cissie's all proud of herself for gettin' to be in charge of the chickens, and Lewis is in marchin' band."
Gabriel said nothing, pleased that spycraft had taught him to keep his face neutral. "Well," he said, nodding a bit. "That is certainly a big family."
"Feels bigger when yer the one payin the bills." Sam muttered and then took a swig of his beer, as if trying to pretend he hadn't said anything.
Gabriel, tactfully, took a sip from his own bottle. Ever the bartender, even after retiring, he knew when to let an errant comment go by. "Okay, so you've got three siblings here." He nodded, considering this. "That must be nice," he ventured, though it sounded more like a question. "I mean, it can be lonely here, at least at first. Having built-in people seems like it'd be a good way to adjust. Assuming you all vibe, I guess?"
"Things're...complicated right now but usually we all get on." Sam said with a strained smile. "But that's on another family terrorizin' us and not so much us not likin' each other."
"Of course it is." Gabriel was not entirely sure what to say, but he was the last person who wanted to pry into someone's family dynamic. He was relieved he'd made it this far without Sam asking questions in return. "Family can be complicated," he said with a sympathetic smile. "Okay. Covered Warren being a fucking moron and your white brood. So..." He raised an eyebrow suggestively as he brought the bottle back toward his lips. "Boyfriend?"
Sam couldn't help it, the question made him smile. "Yeah, Clint. He's awful sweet." Sam thought for a moment and then winked at Gabriel. "Pretty sure I've heard Q talk about you more than once, you wouldn't be one of the reasons he's developing feelings, would you?"
Gabriel, to his credit, did not cough mid-swallow, nor did he sputter beer anywhere. Despite every word Sam was saying making him want to flinch, he remained neutral, though his eyebrow did drop back down. He offered Sam a shrug, one that he hoped the other man would read as coy. "Can't speak for Quentin," he said after a second. "But," he added with a small smile, "he's always had way more EQ than people give him credit for."
"I know he does." Sam grumbled, albeit fondly. "But he keeps acting like he done pawned all his damn emotions off to make room for somethin' else......he's my friend and I like 'im but it ain't doin' him any favors to pretend like he don't feel nothin'. Y'know?"
Gabriel made a vague noise of assent as he considered this. He wasn't sure he had a leg to stand on when it came to stuffing your emotions in a lockbox. "Maybe he's jealous of you and Clint." The words left him before he'd even realized he'd decided to say them.
“Then he oughta just fucking say it instead of telling the both of us he’s fine. It ain’t like I don’t know they were hooking’ up before I asked Clint out. And I’m newer to the whole datin’ men thing than him but I do still know when one is hittin’ on me so he can also stop pretending I ain’t caught him red handed.” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, I ain’t dumb.”
"I was kidding." Gabriel quirked an eyebrow. He had been, he thought. Well, mostly anyway. It was so hard to tell. His feelings about these men were all such a complicated knot. "Some people have a harder time putting it all out there than others," he said, being purposefully vague. "Quentin's... complex." He swirled his beer idly. "Part of his appeal," he added.
“I know he is.” Sam said. “He’s prolly the person who took the most weight off my shoulders during the mess at Christmas. But I don’t see what’s the use in bein’ vague and beatin’ around the bush in regard to folks who you know give a shit about you.”
"Your life seems complicated," Gabriel said, more an observation than a judgment, because once again, it's not like he was one to talk. "People have different ways of showing they care," he said with a shrug. He wasn't sure whether to volunteer that Quentin's particular brand of affection seemed earned given how the world he'd moved through it before he got to the mansion, and how it treated him. That wasn't his insight to share. "Just be glad you're not on the list of people he's a complete dick to."
"I haven't known peace once in my life." Sam said, only slightly teasing. "It's exhausting."
“Were you warned about this place?” Gabriel couldn’t suppress his smirk. “This is not where you’re going to find it.”
"Yeah, but at least I don't have to pay rent here." Sam said. "That's honestly half the battle, you can rent a house back home for less than half what I got charged for a one bedroom apartment about as big as a closet up here. It's fucking ridiculous."
"Yeah," Gabriel agreed. "But then you'd be back home." He couldn't help but darken a little at that thought. "That's why New York gets away with being so expensive."
Sam made eye contact as he took another long drink of his beer. "Yeah.... well, I hear caskets are pretty expensive back home. Think New York is prolly cheaper."
no subject
Date: 2024-02-28 04:02 pm (UTC)"Quentin's... complex." He swirled his beer idly. "Part of his appeal," he added.
lolol lmao
no subject
Date: 2024-03-01 07:10 pm (UTC)