Title: The Mercy of Sweaters and Claustrophobic Places
Pairings: Gabriel/Peter
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 740
Summary: High school AU. Gabriel and Peter are in the closet, which is apparently the best place they could be.
Disclaimer: I admit it! I made it up!
Notes: For jesslared, at Christmas. ♥

Gabriel wasn’t quite sure how they wound up in this situation. One minute Billy Danton was making fun of Gabriel’s overly large Christmas sweater, then Peter had stood up for him, and then suddenly they were running, choosing to hide in the janitor’s closet.

“I really don’t think it’s all that sanitary in here,” Gabriel complained, shifting uncomfortably.

“Shh!” Peter insisted, standing completely still.

“You shouldn’t have stuck up for me. He would’ve let up soon enough and let me walk away,” Gabriel said, whispering now.

“Yeah, perfect, and then I’d have to hear all weekend about how much you hated Billy Danton and wished something really awful would happen to him.”

“But it’s true, I mean, people like him just don’t deserve to live,” Gabriel insisted, his voice rising. Peter shushed him again. “Anyway, I just wanted to say… thank you.”

Peter shrugged. “What are friends for?”

Gabriel’s eyes were adjusting by now. He could see that if Peter was careful to avoid the broom handle, that the janitor’s closet was rather larger than they thought. Peter could easily move back and give them both some breathing room. But Gabriel said nothing.

Peter stared hard at the door, as if that would help at all, so Gabriel took advantage of the opportunity to stare at his friend. His face was so flawless that Gabriel could stare at it for hours if he’d had an excuse.

“So, what are you gonna do for Christmas?” Gabriel asked, wanting to break the silence.

“SHH!” Peter hissed. “I think I hear something.” He leaned forward to listen harder, then stumbled and lost his footing. He moved forward so that his body was pressed completely against Gabriel’s, with Gabriel pushed against the wall. “No room in this damn closet,” Peter grumbled quietly.

Gabriel almost spoke up and told Peter that there was, in fact, room in this damn closet, but then something else happened. Peter stopped staring at the door and turned to face Gabriel. His face had to be less than an inch away from Gabriel’s. Gabriel may have thrashed his arms a bit. Nervous energy.

Peter’s hands suddenly laid flat on the wall on either side of Gabriel’s shoulders. “Lost my balance,” Peter explained. Gabriel nodded a few hundred times.

For a few seconds he paid a lot of attention to the feeling of Peter’s breath over his lips, and then suddenly the feeling changed because Peter was kissing him. Softly at first. Gabriel gave a surprised whimper and kissed back, trying to lean forward from the wall. Peter pushed him back against the wall, deepening the kiss.

Gabriel didn’t know quite what to do with his hands. He tried moving one to the side of Peter’s face, but that felt quite useless. Every other time he started to move them somewhere else he was afraid Peter wouldn’t want him to, and he would jerk his hand away at the last second. Peter laughed into the kiss. He took Gabriel’s hand and guided it under the hem of his T-shirt. Then he left Gabriel to figure it out as he returned his attention to the kiss.

Gabriel tentatively moved his hand in circles over Peter’s skin. Peter gave a small shiver and pressed closer, so he took that to be a good sign. He continued what he was doing and then suddenly he had to stop. Peter had brought his knee up and pressed it between Gabriel’s legs. All higher brain functions had stopped immediately.

Eventually Peter pulled away, and they both looked at each other in the dark, breathing heavily.

“Peter…,” Gabriel managed to stammer out.

“I think the coast is clear,” Peter said.

“Wh…what?” Gabriel asked. Billy Danton was the last thing on his mind at that moment.

Peter twisted the doorknob and walked into the hall. When Gabriel saw the fluorescent lighting reflect off his friend’s hair, he cursed himself for not thinking to run his fingers through it. He’d always wanted to. “Come on,” Peter told him, “Looks like everyone’s cleared out already.”

Gabriel, not knowing what else to do, obeyed. He went to his locker, which Peter had already done.

Peter closed his locker. “See you tomorrow,” he said, and then walked off.

Gabriel spent the better part of that night plotting how else he could get trapped in small, enclosed spaces with Peter. He’d wear dorky Christmas sweaters all year if he had to.


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