20/20 Vision
Title - 20/20 Vision
Rating - NC17
Pairing/ Characters - Sam/Castiel, Dean
Word Count - 3,100
Disclaimer - I am trespassing in Kripke’s world.
Spoiler - None… as long as you know about angels
Warning-Sassy.
Summary- Sam spends time watching Cas, but it takes time before he truly sees the angel. Cas helps him clear his vision.
A/N - Written for gwennie3579 based on a text request for some rough first time Sassy action. Also, the moon was awesome the other night. Didja see it?
**
Sam held his phone to his ear and sighed. It rang once, twice, three times before-
“Hello? Sam?”
“Hey Cas,” Sam said and cleared his throat. “What’s up?”
“Heavenly politics,” Cas said with a touch of disdain.
“Oh,” Sam paused to look up at the night sky. “So you’re in Heaven now? You get reception up there?”
“I came to earth to answer my phone,” Cas explained. There was a beat of silence and then: “Is there something wrong?”
“Have you seen the moon tonight?”
“No.”
“Oh. Well, you should look,” Sam slapped his palm to his forehead, cursing himself for being so damn lame. “It’s orange.”
“Where are you?” Cas asked.
“Sleep and Stay Motel, Burnside, Vermont,” Sam said and then clicked his phone off. He waited until he heard the tell-tale flapping of wings. “Hey Cas.”
“Hello, Sam,” Cas said from Sam’s right side, his head tilted back and his gaze fixated on the sky. “I came to see the moon.”
“There it is,” Sam said, tucking his hands in the back pocket of his jeans.
They stood together, admiring the Harvest Moon and enjoying the symphony of chirping filling the air. Sam’s eyes slid to Cas’s profile. The angel’s lips were softly curved in a smile.
“Thank you,” Cas said, keeping his eyes on the moon.
“For what?”
“For this,” the angel flicked his gaze to Sam’s face. “It is nice to be reminded of the beauties of earth.”
Sam licked his lips and nodded. He’d tried so hard to play it cool with his brother’s best friend, but every time the angel appeared, he lost it. He made stupid suggestions, his voice broke, his hands shook. He was a thirteen year old girl meeting the freakin’ Jonas Brothers.
“Cas…” Sam’s mouth said without permission from his brain.
“You don’t think I see you,” Cas said, turning to face Sam directly. His blue eyes were wide and filled with curiosity.
“…What?”
“I do see you, Sam,” Cas insisted, stepping closer to the younger Winchester. “I see your hands shake. I see how you shift when I come close. I see you watch me.”
“I…” But there was nothing Sam could say. He was found out and struck dumb by it.
“What do you see?” Cas asked, taking yet another step. The tips of their shoes kissed across the gravel underfoot. “What do you see when you look at me?”
Sam shook his head, unable to answer. How could he explain the quickening of his heart and the sweating of his palms? He was a hunter and as such, he could stare danger in the face and openly mock it. But staring in the face of the angel he was full-out crushing on? He couldn’t hack it.
“Do you see me watching you?” Cas cast his voice lower than humanly possible, making Sam’s spine tingle. “Do you feel me touch you whenever feasible? Do you see me, Sam?”
He shook his head again. He hadn’t noticed those things. He’d been too far obsessed with not being caught in his own stalking. Cas leaned up, pressing their chests together and putting his face close to Sam’s ear. Sam let his eyes shut and crooked his head down to force skin-on-skin contact.
“You should pay more attention,” Cas breathed.
A whoosh of air ruffled Sam’s hair, and he knew, without opening his eyes, that Cas had gone.
**
Cas came back the next day. And the next ten after that.
“Not for nothing, Cas,” Dean said over beers on the tenth day. “But stalking is illegal in all fifty states.”
“Do you want me to leave?” Cas asked with a blink. When his eyes opened, they were firmly on Sam.
Sam shifted on his barstool, moving infinitesimally closer to the angel. He’d spent the past two weeks cataloging the ways Cas found to interact directly with him. There was the press of thigh in the diner. And the weight of his eyes on Sam’s neck as they drove to the hunt/ bar/ motel. The bristle of air when Cas walked by him.
“Nah,” Dean clapped his friend on the shoulder and shoved a tankard of beer into his hand. “But if you’re staying, you’d better be drinking. Dart board’s open; come on, Sam.”
Sam slid from his stool, ducking his head but looking up through his lashes at Cas. As he turned to walk away, Cas stopped him with one cool finger on his wrist. Sam froze, but kept his face averted.
“Do you see me, Sam?” Cas whispered.
Sam twisted his hand up and caught Cas’s fingers with his own. They stayed there together, Sam standing and Cas sitting, linked in the most innocent of ways. The sound in the room narrowed until Sam could only hear the thick pumping of his heart. The people crammed into the smoky bar moved as if in a water ballet, slow and with great precision.
“Sam?” Dean glanced over his shoulder. “You coming?”
The connection broke, jostling the pair into action. Sam surged forward to meet his brother at the dart board. Cas trailed behind him, keeping himself in Sam’s orbit.
“You going to play, Cas?” Dean asked with great amusement. He started to hand a set of darts to his friend, but paused. “Take off the coat, dude. It’ll get in the way of your throws.”
Sam watched in absolute fascination as Cas rolled his shoulders to shrug out of this tan trench coat armor. Cas, in turn, watched Sam watching him. His eyes were hooded and promised sins Sam couldn’t even imagine.
“Are you okay, Sam?” Dean elbowed his brother in the side. “You haven’t said one word all night. Cat got your tongue?”
Sam huffed a laugh for his brother’s benefit, but couldn’t look away from Cas, who was rolling the sleeves of his white dress shirt up his forearms.
“Cas got your tongue?” Cas murmured as he brushed past Sam, darts in hand.
Sam flushed and took a large swallow of beer. He kept a safe distance as Cas threw his darts, but he was not so far away that he did not catch a glimpse of the angel’s arm muscles tense as he took aim.
“You’re up, Sammy,” Dean said.
He lurched to the line and threw his first dart. It hit the wall to the left of the board.
“Dude…” Dean said, because Sam never missed his mark.
Sam swore under his breath and tried again. The second dart landed two inches farther off the board than the first.
“Dude…” Dean said again.
“Perhaps,” Cas said as he slid in close to Sam’s back. “I can be of assistance?”
“No,” Sam choked out. The last thing he needed was Cas pressed against him as he tried to throw a pointy object in a room full of people.
Cas lined his arm up with Sam’s, his bare skin right there. He curled his fingers around Sam’s hand that held the last dart, his last chance at redemption.
“Cas,” Dean called, his voice strained. “Personal space.”
“If you make this shot,” Cas said to the back of Sam’s neck. “I’ll reward you with all the… gifts… Heaven has to offer.”
Sam stifled a full body shudder and nodded. Cas stepped away, joining Dean in a muted conversation about inappropriate touching in public. Sam widened his stance and squared his shoulders. His eyes focused on the red center of the board with the same intensity he used to kill demons with his mind. Only this time? Yeah, more intense.
Bull’s eye!
He twirled around, a triumphant expression lighting his features.
“You want a gold star, sweetheart?” Dean asked with a wink. “’Bout time you pulled your head out of your ass.”
But Sam didn’t waste time looking at his brother. His eyes had unerringly found Cas, who smirked at him from behind Dean, and jerked his head. Sam followed the direction of the movement, straight to the bathroom at the back of the bar.
“I must depart,” Cas said loudly, picking up his coat and pulling a disappointed face.
“Sucks you still have to come when they ring the dinner bell,” Dean commiserated, but turned back to the dart board. “See ya, Cas.”
No more than thirty seconds after Cas disappeared-out the front door, of course-Sam excused himself to hit the head. Dean didn’t notice because two girls straight out of Busty Asian Beauties strutted into the bar and directly toward him. As if by divine intervention. Sam shook his head at Cas’s twisted, yet ingenious, distraction technique.
Cas was waiting when Sam tentatively opened the door to the one stall bathroom. He took two steps forward and grabbed Sam’s shoulder. Less than a second later, Sam staggered on his feet, in the middle of his motel room. God bless the Angel Express.
They came together in the middle of the room, chests colliding, hands searching for purchase in clothes. Sam closed the last remaining distance between them, bending down to meet Cas’ mouth for the first time; he found it open and ready. It was dirty, the slide of tongues and the biting of teeth. Two groans-one tenor, one bass-rang out in perfect harmony, ending with two discordant grunts.
“You made the shot,” Cas said when he pulled away. “Are you ready for your gifts?”
“Yes,” Sam said. He would answer as many questions, say anything, as long as Cas kept touching him.
“Did you know angels are highly tactile beings?” Cas asked, pushing his hands under Sam’s shirt, forcing it up and over his head. “When angels meet, our graces embrace.”
Under normal circumstances, Sam would have been fascinated by the insight into celestial behavior, but the fact that he was in possession of a half-naked angel in the flesh made the whole subject rather tedious.
“In this vessel,” Cas continued, turning his attention to divesting Sam of his jeans, crouching down to help Sam step out. “The sense of touch is not as strong. I have to press hard,” Cas gripped the back of Sam’s thighs and dragged him close, “to feel anything.”
Sam gasped, patiently waiting for the next engrossing sensation.
“There are some areas of the human body,” Cas said, letting his hands move up Sam’s thighs and over his rounded backside as he steadily rose to his full height. “That are more sensitive than others. Did you know that?”
Cas curled his fingers in, sinking his fingernails into Sam’s lower back, earning him a surprised stutter of breath. He raised his chin and waited for Sam to meet him halfway for a kiss. Their tongues touched the moment Cas raked his nails up Sam’s spine.
Pinpricks of pain shot over Sam’s skin and straight to his groin. He stumbled forward, eager to both escape the pain, and invite more.
“Tell me,” Cas said, his voice little more than a growl. “Where do you feel the most?”
Sam could not force words to come. He lifted one of the angel’s hands and pressed his lips to the tips of each finger in turn. With Cas’s head tilted at a familiar angle, Sam guided Cas’s hand down his chest, over the rippled planes of his stomach, and around his hard cock.
Cas gave the cock in his hand a languid stroke from base to tip. “You have lost your words, Sam,” he said with a smile. “What do you want?”
The only sound to answer the question was a pant.
“Do you need something to do with that pretty mouth?”
Sam swallowed and nodded his head, grateful to be absolved of speaking.
“Well then,” Cas put his hands on the taller man’s shoulders and pushed him to his knees. “Show me what you want.”
With no hesitation, Sam unzipped Cas’s dark suit pants and let them fall around his ankles. He was momentarily shocked to find the angel bare underneath, but somehow, it seemed perfect. He would always know that Cas was one artful zip away from being naked and ready. He groaned at that and lurched forward to nuzzle in the dark hair above the angel’s dick. Rough hands threaded through his hair and guided his head down. He opened his mouth, ready for what he knew was coming, what he wanted.
Cas pushed his cock into Sam’s mouth without mercy. The unfamiliar weight made Sam gag and try to pull away, but those firm hands held him in place. His eyes watered and he worked to relax his tongue, to give Cas’s cock more room to slide in and out. A tear leaked from the corner of his eye, but damn, he found he didn’t care. The taste of the angel-summer rain and spice-made him moan. He closed his lips around the shaft in his mouth and gave a tentative suck. Cas whispered something Sam didn’t understand, and thrust harder, hitting the back of Sam’s throat. Sam gagged again, but Cas was relentless. His hands came up to steady himself against the other man’s hips.
“I knew it would be like this,” Cas said as he set a bruising rhythm. His voice was soft, in perfect discordance to the roughness of his movements. “Your mouth is best like this, useful and full of me.”
Sam’s fingers dug into the skin he held tight, silently begging for Cas to take what he would of him.
It could have been forever later, when Sam’s jaw started to ache, when his throat spasmodically rebelled at the brutal pokes and prods, that Cas jerked his hips one final time and came. He held Sam firmly in place, his hands twisting painfully in his hair, as his dick shot stream after stream of thick come down Sam’s throat.
When Cas finally released him, allowed him to pull away, Sam coughed and reached for his shirt to wipe away the dribbled come and spit from his face. He looked up at Cas, a new Cas who stared down at him with a look of absolute power. Sam swore he could make out the outline of his dark wings, beautiful and intimidating.
“More, Sam?” Cas asked, running his fingers along his sore jaw.
“Yes,” Sam said at once, his voice strained and hurting his throat. “God, yes.”
The familiar and at once hated sound of the Impala rumbled just outside the door. Sam swore viciously and tried to get to his feet. His knees ached and the muscles of his thighs protested.
“Don’t,” Cas stilled his frantic movements with a hand to the shoulder. “I will always take care of you, Sam.”
When Dean stumbled into the room, he found Sam tucked into his bed, sleeping soundly. He swung his head and found Cas sitting serenely at the table, staring at the muted television. There was a heavy smell in the room-something that smelled like sex, but was a little off. He put it down to the stale air in the seedy motel and wrinkled his nose.
“Thanks for taking care of Sam,” Dean said as he shucked his jacket and shoes. “You know, if you’d stuck around, I could’ve gotten both of you laid for sure.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” Cas smiled indulgently.
“Hey, you stickin’ around all night?” Dean asked, stepping into a pair of faded flannel sleep pants.
“Yes.”
“Good night, then,” Dean fell into his bed and rolled onto his side. “You’re on coffee detail in the morning.”
Cas waited for Dean’s breathing to even out before approaching the bed and lightly touching his best friend with the tips of two fingers, sending him into a deep sleep that would hold him tight for hours to come.
He turned and pressed those same fingers against Sam’s cheek, bringing him back into consciousness and simultaneously stripping him of his clothes.
“Cas?” He started to sit up, but the angel shook his head and crawled into the bed. He shot a look at his sleeping brother and pushed Cas away. “Dean is here.”
“He won’t wake,” Cas assured him with a chuckle. “I’ve made sure of it.”
Because Sam was never one to question Cas, he wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist and pulled him close. He noticed, of course he did, that Cas was as bare as he was and moaned his delight loudly.
“Lie back,” Cas directed, not bothering to quiet his voice.
And Sam did, because he wanted whatever came next. He was as hard as he’d been when the sneaky angel knocked him out and sent him to bed. He watched as Cas straddled his thighs.
“Will you fuck me, Sam?”
“Christ,” Sam breathed, his hips bucking instinctually.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
Cas wrapped his fingers around Sam’s length, stroking as he positioned himself. There were benefits, Sam decided as Cas lowered himself onto Sam’s cock, to fucking an angel. The instant prep and lubrication were chief among them.
There was no hesitation. Cas seated himself fully on Sam with one sure downward thrust. Sam’s back arched away from the mattress at the intense pleasure that shot through his body. Cas was tight and warm in a way he’d not expected, very unlike the women he’d been with before. His fingers twisted in the sheets and his neck arched off the pillow.
Never again, Sam thought as he lifted his hips to meet Cas’s movement. He would never fuck another woman, another person, ever again. It would always be Cas. He wanted to die inside of Cas. The angel was perfection in action. The slow in and out drag of clenching muscles started a tinny ringing sound in Sam’s head. It was too much, but not enough. He grabbed Cas by the ass, pulling him apart, and pushed up and up, harder and harder.
“Sam,” Cas whispered, leaning back to brace himself against Sam’s raised knees. The new angle had Sam brushing against his prostate with every in and every out. “Sammy.”
The sound of his nickname falling so carelessly from the angel’s lips caused an explosion of stars, confetti and fireworks in Sam’s body. His mind blanked out and his muscles stiffened as he came in blissfully painful spurts. Cas ground down hard, moaning at the pulsing heat inside him.
As Sam floated through the detritus of his shattered self, blown wide and far by the intensity of his orgasm, Cas dropped down to kiss Sam softly.
“Do you see me, Sammy?” Cas asked for the third time.
“Yeah, Cas,” Sam managed to say, opening his eyes to look directly at the angel. “I see you.”
~END~