Fic: Out Where the Shivers Won't Find You (2/2)
Back to Part 1
Over the next two weeks, Cas comes to the cabin five times. Each time is a little bit different, the healing affecting him in different ways, but Sam finds that he never has nightmares on the evenings that Cas visits.
The healing process still scares him, and the connection to Cas' grace is always intense, but Sam finds himself looking forward to Cas' visits more and more. It's not just the lack of nightmares, either. He enjoys the time he gets to spend with Cas before they get to work.
They don't always talk, but the last time Cas visited, Sam convinced him to eat a bowl of chili with him, and he was unaccountably proud when Cas agreed without a fuss.
Sam took more enjoyment than he should have at the alarmed look on Cas' face after biting into a habanero pepper. Several glasses of water (and just as many pointed glares at Sam) later, they established that Cas doesn't like spicy food. He had frowned disapprovingly at Sam's laughter, but there was an indulgent fondness in it that Sam can recognize now.
That was the day before yesterday. Today, he gets up early and bundles up in the warmest clothes he can find in the dresser. Cas had provided everything he could possibly need, from thermal long underwear to a heavy knit hat, and he layers it all on before pulling on a pair of boots and heading outside.
Sam's slowly-building cabin fever is no longer alleviated by a few hours on the front porch, so he's decided to go for a hike. Or rather, a walk in the woods, because he's not really up for anything quite as strenuous as a full-blown hike.
It's still early when he leaves, and he can see his breath in front of his face, little puffs of fog every time he exhales. He stays out for several hours, the exertion of picking his way through the woods keeping him warm. There aren't any defined trails out here, so he makes his own way, careful to always keep the cabin in sight. The leaves have mostly fallen by now, and thanks to the sparseness of the trees he can go a fair distance before he loses view of it.
The change of scenery provides an opportunity for Sam to think. He's been trying not to think of Dean since he came back, but he knows that sort of avoidance can't work in the long term. He feels better, stronger since Cas has been helping him.
Maybe he'll be healed sooner than expected. He'll be able to go to Dean without being a burden. Dean won't have to leave Lisa or whatever sort of life they have, because Sam is done. Done with hunting, done with traveling, and ready to settle in one place with his brother close by. It's idealistic in a way Sam should know better than to be, but the thought of it makes him grin.
Sam works his way in a wide, rough circle around the cabin, taking advantage of the occasional beaten-down animal trail to make his walk easier. He doesn't see any wildlife; he knows he's making far too much noise to accidentally sneak up on anything, but the fresh air is invigorating and he can't help but be glad he ventured out here.
By the time he makes his way back to the cabin, it's mid-afternoon. It's chilly, and he gets a fire going before stripping off his layers and heading to the kitchen. After two bowls of soup and some crackers, he has to concede his own exhaustion from his morning. He imagines Dean laughing at him, getting soft, Sam, all worn out from your nature walk, and it doesn't sting as much as he would have expected.
It's early, but the sky is overcast and he's sleepy. Sam crawls into bed, pulling the blanket up over his head to block out the muted sunlight. He falls asleep within minutes.
---
Sam jolts awake from a nightmare and looks wildly around the room. It's almost pitch dark, only the slightest bit of twilight still filtering through the windows. He's drenched with sweat, turning icy on his skin, and he's wracked with full-body shivers.
His brain is sluggish, and it takes him several minutes to realize that the fire has burned down to embers. He was so tired earlier that he had forgotten to stoke it, to add more firewood, and he curses his own stupidity.
The tips of his fingers and toes are numb, more so than they should be given the temperature outside, and he can feel ice creeping through his limbs like poison. He shivers again, violent, and tries to gasp out a prayer through numb lips.
"Cas," he chokes, barely audible. Several long seconds pass, and he feels it, he knows, he's going to die. He's going to freeze to death in this cabin, too painfully cold to call for help again.
"Sam," the bed dips and he feels a hand cupping his cheek. It burns, so unbelievably hot against his skin, and he would pull away if he had any control of himself. The hand tilts his head to the side and he sees Cas in front of him, his eyes wide with alarm. "What happened?" Cas asks, though he seems to realize immediately that Sam can't respond. He turns to glance briefly over his shoulder, and the fire roars back to life.
He stands up, releasing Sam, and begins shedding his clothes. First his coat, then his suit jacket and tie, but Sam doesn't see anything else as he squeezes his eyes shut against another shudder. He realizes distantly that his teeth are chattering, no matter how hard he wills them to stop.
Even though his intentions had been somewhat obvious, Sam jerks in surprise when Cas slides into the bed behind him, easing himself under the covers before fitting himself up against Sam's back. He winds their feet together and wraps his arms around Sam's waist to grab his hands, breath warm against the back of Sam's neck.
Sam is still shivering, still unbelievably cold, but the difference is immediate. That icy feeling that had been coursing through his veins is abating, slowly but surely. His shivers are less violent, and he thinks he's never felt anything that was such a relief as Cas' body, one long, hot line pressed up tightly behind him. He hopes desperately that Cas will stay.
"You'll be all right. I'm not leaving. You should rest; things will be better in the morning."
Sam's powerless to argue, with a warm pressure pushing him down, enveloping him where Cas's arms can't reach.
He has a moment to think wings before he slips into unconsciousness, feeling safer than he has in a long, long time.
---
Sam wakes up gradually, unwilling to let go of the delicious warmth he feels in the haze of sleep. It permeates his entire body, welcoming and perfect, and he realizes blearily that he's hard.
He hasn't gotten hard since he came back from the Cage.
Sam has no intention of wasting it now, either, already shifting around to get better friction. He ruts down lazily, groaning in satisfaction at the pressure against his dick. In his current state, only half-awake and suddenly very horny, he doesn't give much thought to what he's thrusting against. The mattress, he figures, gasping as he presses down again.
Then whatever it is moves. Sam's eyes fly open, and he sees Cas watching him with a look of curiosity and something else that he can't quite read. He makes a strangled noise when he realizes he's sprawled half on top of Cas, and he's been pushing himself into the hollow of Cas' hip.
Sam draws back quickly as if he's been burnt and tumbles off the edge of the bed. His face is on fire as he disentangles himself from the sheets around his legs before mumbling an apology and making a dash for the bathroom.
Once the door is shut and locked behind him, he lets out a ragged breath. Every instinct is telling him not to, and that it's wrong, but he shoves down his boxers and takes his dick in his hand, dragging his palm up the length of it.
He's so embarrassed, and more than a bit ashamed, and he knows that Cas is on the other side of the door with the same bewildered expression Sam had seen before slamming the door closed. He should stop. He should take a cold shower and go back out there and apologize profusely. At the very least, he shouldn't be jerking himself off with the image of curious blue eyes seared into his mind.
Except he knows what he felt in that moment before he pulled away. Cas had been hard, too. That thought is enough to send him over the edge, biting his lip to keep quiet as he comes all over his hand.
He takes a steadying breath as the shame comes rushing in, trying to slow his heart rate back down to something normal. It takes a few minutes, but then he rearranges his clothes, washes his hands, and shuts his eyes, bracing himself for the awkward conversation waiting in the other room.
When he opens the bathroom door, Cas is fully dressed again, sitting on the edge of the bed. He looks up at Sam, questioning, and Sam sighs.
"I'm really sorry about that, Cas. I didn't mean to… I wouldn't have done that if I had realized what I was doing. It won't happen again, I swear."
Cas frowns and stands up.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Sam. I trust that you're feeling better?" Sam nods dumbly, realizing after an embarrassing second that Cas is talking about his episode of the previous night, not his frantic masturbating session of five minutes ago. "I need to get back," Cas continues. "I was in the middle of something, and I've been gone for much longer than I expected."
Sam is saved the trouble of finding something to say when Cas disappears without another word.
For some reason, he doesn't feel embarrassed anymore. He just feels like an asshole.
---
Cas comes back two days later, unusually stiff and formal as he instructs Sam to sit in the chair by the fireplace before getting to work. It feels weird, the intimacy of the connection between Cas' grace and his soul at complete odds with the impersonal, businesslike manner in which Cas is conducting himself.
He's there for an hour, deep in concentration and not looking at Sam, before he finishes abruptly and leaves with barely a goodbye.
Sam can't help but think that he's fucked everything up. Over the past weeks, he and Cas have gotten closer than he realized, bonding over easy conversations and the occasional shared meal as much as through the healing sessions. He may not have noticed it happening, but he feels the absence of it like a physical pain and he wishes he could do something to make it better.
It takes two more visits in which Cas treats him almost as a stranger before he decides he's had enough.
It's a sunny day, warmer than it's been in a while, and he's out on the porch with a blanket as usual. He doesn't have a book today, though, and he steels himself before shutting his eyes.
"Hey, Cas, do you think you could come down here?" He doesn't say anything else, leaving it deliberately vague. He might feel bad about misleading the angel if he weren't so afraid he'd be ignored if he explained himself further.
Cas appears almost immediately; for all that he's been distant, he still clearly cares about Sam's well-being and his expression is one of concern. It turns to confusion as he sees their surroundings, since he and Sam haven't interacted outside of the cabin since he's been here.
"Sam? Is there… is something wrong?" He sounds uneasy, though when Sam shakes his head, he relaxes noticeably.
"I just wanted to see you, man. You've been busy lately, which I get; I know the work you're doing in Heaven is important. I just miss hanging out with you, and I was hoping you might have a few minutes free."
Cas slumps, the tension leaking out of his frame.
"That would actually be quite nice. Things have been tedious and frustrating lately, I admit, and I could use the break." He walks over to the swing, lifting the edge of the blanket and sitting next to Sam before dropping it back over his legs. He stares out at the trees for a few minutes, unmoving, but Sam can tell that he's gradually unwinding.
He doesn't know if he should bring up what happened the other morning, but he really, really, doesn't want to. He just wishes things weren't awkward anymore; he wants them to get back to the way things were before.
"I've read almost all the books you brought," he tries. "Well, except that romance novel, but that's not really my thing."
Cas turns and looks at him, his expression carefully blank, though he's radiating amusement. Sam's not sure how he can tell, but he knows that Cas is trying very hard not to roll his eyes right now.
"Okay, okay, fine," Sam mutters. "And it was good, okay? But this stays between us."
Cas nods seriously before letting a smile slip, and Sam feels palpable relief when he sees that fond expression.
He realizes then what's been happening gradually since the first night Cas watched over him, no matter how much he'd been denying it in his own mind. It hadn't been an accident that morning in his bed, it hadn't been overactive hormones or anything else like that.
The excitement that he feels when Cas arrives has nothing to do with the angel helping to heal his soul, though when he thinks of everything Cas has done for him already, he's overwhelmed with gratitude. Beyond that, though, he realizes that all this time, he's been growing to love Cas. As a friend and a brother, sure, but becoming more than that every day.
They're still looking at one another, so close together, but Sam can't make that move. After what happened before, the idea of making Cas uncomfortable or doing anything he doesn't want makes Sam feel sick.
Cas might be his friend, but that affection must have its limits, and Sam can't see any reason why Cas would choose him of all people to care about, to love.
All the logic in the world can't silence the small voice in his head that's shouting to pull him closer, to kiss him, to show him how much love Sam could give if he had the chance.
All of his inner conflict proves to be for nothing when Cas leans in and kisses him first. Sam's mouth parts on a small gasp, and their lips fit together just so. Cas pulls back, looking shocked and for all the world like he's about to fly away. Sam reaches out and grabs his wrist, knowing he can't stop him if he really wants to go, but also knowing that he has to try.
"Cas, wait, you…" he shakes himself, trying to pull his thoughts together when he can't stop thinking about the way Cas' lips had felt against his. "You didn't have to do that just because you thought I wanted it. I know you heard me thinking about it, but I don't want you to do anything that you don't want, too. You mean way too much to me, okay? I understand if you don't care about me… that way." As he talks, Cas looks increasingly perplexed, so he cuts himself off mid-ramble and waits for Cas to respond.
"Sam," Cas begins hesitantly, "I don't read your thoughts if I can help it. I know that humans don't like that, and I wouldn't want to betray your trust, especially after all that you've been through. It's difficult to block them out while I'm healing you or when you're particularly distressed, but I can assure you that I was not listening to them just now."
Sam just stares at him, not sure why Cas is telling him this, and then it clicks. Cas had wanted to kiss him, and he had wanted it with absolutely no influence from Sam. The knowledge makes him break out in a wide grin, and he leans in before pausing to search Cas' eyes for permission. After a minute, Sam sees what he's looking for, and he crashes their lips together.
Cas makes a small noise. For a brief moment Sam reads it as distress and moves to pull back, but then Cas is wrapping his hand around the back of Sam's neck and opening his mouth. Encouraged, Sam surges forward to slide his tongue alongside Cas'.
It's electric, and he can feel the fine hairs on his arms raising as Cas moans into the kiss, tugging at Sam's shoulders like he isn't sure what he wants, only that he wants it very badly.
Sam pulls back and sucks in a lungful of air, having to fight the urge to just dive back in when he sees the way that Cas' mouth is pink and swollen.
"Cas, are you sure? Because I am, I really am, but I don't want you to feel like you have to for any reason at all." Sam knows he's rambling again, but he just has to know. Cas pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath.
"That morning, after I stayed the night with you, was very strange for me. I know that we've been forming a bond since you've been here, but I've never," he pauses, looking back out at the trees. "I've never had feelings of that nature for anyone. I didn't know what to do, but when you fled so quickly, I assumed you didn't share them." Sam groans, feeling suddenly stupid. "When you came back, you assured me it was a mistake, merely a physical reaction. I'm not proud of my actions, but it was difficult for me to spend time with you with that knowledge in mind."
"No, no, I'm sorry. I am so sorry for that. I was freaked out and embarrassed, but it wasn't a mistake. It was you, okay? That's the first time that I…" he trails off, unwilling to spell it out. "Since Hell, you know? It was because of you. Because of the way I feel about you."
Cas nods slowly, reaching across to take Sam's hand. He shifts into Sam's space and kisses him again, chaste and tender, before leaning against Sam's side. They stay like that for most of the afternoon, speaking only occasionally, and Sam can't help but think he hasn't felt this warm in years.
---
Over the next few weeks, they continue with their normal routine. Cas comes by at least every other evening, and he works painstakingly to heal the damage to Sam's soul.
Sam thinks he must be nearly done, because he hasn't had a nightmare or an episode since the day Cas kissed him on the porch.
For all that they follow the same routine, things feel completely different. When Cas' grace connects them, there's a new layer to the intimacy and Sam welcomes it without trepidation. He can feel the link between them growing stronger, and he feels stronger as a result.
The other difference is that, when he's finished, Cas doesn't leave. He crawls into bed with Sam, and they exchange kisses -- sometimes sweet, sometimes heated -- until Sam falls asleep. With a few rare exceptions, Cas is always there in the morning, as well. He waits for Sam to wake up before he says his goodbyes, promising to be back by the following day.
One morning in early December, things change. Sam knows it's early December -- December 4th, to be exact -- because he'd asked Cas once what the date was, and the following morning there had been a page-a-day calendar on the kitchen table. A kitten-themed page-a-day calendar.
When he'd asked Cas about it, he'd gotten a blank stare in return, but he's still pretty sure the angel was fucking with him.
Anyway, it's December 4th, the calendar is showcasing a calico kitten peeking out of a basket of yarn, and Sam is restless. He hasn't felt anything but those minor bouts of cabin fever in the weeks he's been here, and they've always been easily cured by a few hours of fresh air.
This morning, though, Cas left before he woke up, and he's spent the entire day pacing the cabin. It feels too small and too empty all at once, and he debates for most of the afternoon about whether or not to call Cas down early.
He's ready to see Dean. He needs to see him. Sam tries to cook lunch for himself early in the afternoon, but he's distracted with the need to call Cas, to do something, and his stir-fry gets left on the stove to go cold.
Sam is saved the trouble of making a decision when Cas comes back around dusk. He halts in his pacing when he hears him arrive, and turns to see Cas watching him with his brow furrowed.
"Sit down," he orders, and Sam does. This is a familiar routine for them by now, but Sam feels only the briefest flare of a connection before Cas withdraws. He looks up, disappointed, but Cas is smiling. An open, broad thing that takes Sam's breath from his chest.
"What is it, Cas? Is everything okay?"
"I could tell last night that I was close to being finished with your healing, and I thought it might only take one or two more sessions." Cas grips Sam's hand in both of his. "But it seems that your soul has healed the remainder of the damage on its own."
"Wait, so that's it? We're finished?" Cas frowns briefly at his phrasing, but nods.
"Your soul is back to what it was before you fell into the Cage. Better, even, since you no longer have to fight against the influence of Azazel's blood. I'd imagine that's why you're feeling so restless," he adds. "You're free to do what you like now, without worrying about having any more 'episodes.'"
"I want to see Dean," Sam tells him immediately. "I wasn't ready before, and I wanted to get better before I went to him. I didn't want to mess things up for him and Lisa and Ben, but I think I'm ready now."
"I understand," Cas responds quietly, not meeting his eyes. "Your soul knew when you were healed, even before you did, and it's only natural that you would be eager to move on. I will take you there as soon as you're ready to go." He slips his hands from Sam's.
"Whoa, whoa, hold on, Cas." Sam catches Cas' jaw in his hand and tips his head up, forcing him to look at Sam. "I'm not in that much of a hurry. Is everything okay?"
Cas sighs, his eyes darting away again.
"It's been a tiring day, but yes. Everything is fine." His hands are clenched into fists, resting on his thighs, and he's the absolute image of discomfort. Sam almost smiles, because even after everything that they've been through, everything that's changed between he and Dean and Cas, one thing has held constant. Cas can't lie for shit.
"You know, lying's a sin," he teases gently. Cas shoots him an unimpressed look, but he presses on. "I understand if something's bothering you and you're not ready to talk about it, but give me some credit, man. I know something's wrong, and you know you can tell me anything. You already know everything there is to know about me," he adds with a rueful half-smile.
"I may know your soul, but I don't know everything about you. Not even close. You surprise me every day." Cas is so earnest that Sam squirms under his gaze. At least Cas is looking at him now, and he takes it as an encouraging sign.
"Cas," he pleads, "you've already done so much for me. Let me help you, okay?"
"Sam, you don't…" Cas huffs in frustration, clearly unwilling to continue. "You don't need to worry about any obligation to me," he mumbles. "You don't owe me any debt for healing you, and I don't expect you to want to continue this," a pause, "relationship, now that you're ready to move on to a more normal life."
Sam gapes at him, realizing that Cas is mistaking his eagerness to see Dean as eagerness to get away from Cas, which is really, really not okay. He takes Cas' face in both of his hands then and tugs him up into a rough kiss. Cas allows himself to be pulled in, opening up to Sam immediately.
"Cas," he pants after a minute. "That's not what I want at all. I want you, whether it's in this cabin or in Indiana or anywhere else." He kisses him again, exhilarated to feel Cas responding in kind, sharp and messy. He lies back on the bed, pulling Cas with him until the other man is straddling him, groaning into his mouth at the contact.
They haven't done more than kiss since that awkward morning together. Sam hasn't really felt ready, his mind and soul still feeling raw at times. He's pretty sure that Cas has never done anything like this before, so he's been in no rush either.
Right now, though, with their bodies pressed together, he wants nothing more than to feel Cas' skin against his. He hopes Cas feels the same way.
Then Cas is sitting back, pulling off his coat and jacket, and Sam grins because, yeah, they're on the same page. He watches as Cas tugs off his tie and unbuttons his shirt, finally exposing the pale chest that Sam has caught himself imagining more than once. He surges up, burying his face in the curve of Cas' neck and inhaling the scent of his skin.
Cas smells clean, bright and sharp, like the air before a lightning storm. Sam finds that he can't get enough as he darts out his tongue to drag it across his skin, nipping lightly at the curve of his shoulder before leaning back to yank his own shirt over his head. Cas lets out a surprised, pleased noise when he presses their bare chests back together, falling back onto the mattress behind him.
They slow down then, kissing deeply but without the frantic edge from minutes before. There's no hurry here, not at all, and the realization that this is Cas' first time is a sobering one.
Sam rolls them over so he's on top, slotted between Cas' legs just right for their erections to press together. Sam gasps at the friction, and Cas stifles a moan. And no, that definitely isn't going to work. He wants to hear Cas come apart underneath him. He wastes no time in undoing Cas' belt and slacks, shifting to the side to drag them down and off his legs, only pausing briefly to pull off his shoes and socks, as well.
Then he has to stop, because Cas is naked. On a bed, naked, with Sam. His skin is flushed, and his expression is shy and guarded, but his cock is hard and straining toward his belly. Sam gives him his best reassuring smile, waiting for Cas to indicate that he's ready. When he gives Sam a small nod, paired with a nervous smile, Sam dips his head down and places a soft kiss at the jutting bone of his hip.
He works his way up Cas' torso, peppering it with kisses, before stopping to tease at his nipples. Cas' surprised oh and the way he arches up toward Sam encourage him, and he nips lightly at one, then the other, before returning to soothe each one with his tongue.
Cas is panting now, his hand coming up to thread fingers through Sam's hair where it's gotten way too long after two months in the middle of nowhere. Finally, Sam's had enough of teasing, and he drags his lips back down Cas' chest, pausing to drop a kiss over his bellybutton before licking a wet stripe up the hard length of his cock.
Cas cries out, bucking up, but Sam had expected that. He lays a forearm across Cas' hips before lowering his head to slide his mouth down, engulfing Cas almost to the base before he has to pull back. He takes Cas in his hand, jacking him slowly as he works his mouth back down over the head. Cas is steadily pushing up against him now, breath coming in harsh gasps.
"Please, Sam," he begs, and his voice has somehow gotten even rougher. Sam has to press a hand to his own dick to regain some semblance of composure before pulling off of Cas and nuzzling his stomach.
"I'd like to do more, Cas, if you're ready. You can be inside of me, or me inside of you, it doesn't matter to me. I just need to get closer." He chances a glance at Cas' face and feels his cock twitch at the lust and need he sees there.
"I'm ready, I want it," he murmurs. "I've never…" he flushes, embarrassed, and Sam reaches up to stroke lightly at his neck, reassuring. "I wouldn't know what I was doing, so it would probably be better if you… and I…" he trails off again, unsure in a way Sam has never seen him.
"And what, Cas?" Sam urges, needing to be sure that this is really what Cas wants.
"I would really like to have you inside of me," Cas whispers, not breaking Sam's gaze.
"Fuck, Cas," Sam groans, dropping his head again. "Yeah, I want that too. Just give me a minute, okay?" He takes a few deep breaths before standing up from the bed and working off his pants and socks. A quick glance at Cas reveals him watching Sam hungrily, shifting his legs apart in a way that seems unconscious but has Sam biting back a groan.
He stops to think for a minute, wondering what they could possibly use to ease the way, since Sam hasn't had any way of getting lube (or any reason to need it) all the way out here.
Cas clears his throat, looking a bit sheepish now. He gestures at the nightstand.
"Second drawer," he mumbles. Sam pulls it open, and sure enough, there's a brand new bottle of KY tucked away in the back. He grabs it and raises an eyebrow at Cas, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Since our relationship changed, I had hoped we might do this eventually. I know… the mechanics of it, and I thought it would be better to be prepared."
"You Boy Scout," Sam chuckles, before dropping back onto the bed to press a fierce kiss against Cas' mouth. He shifts over until he's between Cas' knees, and he opens the lube and pours some on his fingers, rubbing them together to get it warm.
Cas gasps and jerks at the first press against his entrance, and Sam leans in to kiss him as he pushes the first finger in. Cas' mouth falls open on a moan, and he tugs at Sam's hair, thrusting his tongue desperately into Sam's mouth.
Sam works him open slowly, gently, until Cas is rocking down on four of his fingers and choking out broken cries of please and ready and now. He can't wait any longer, and he eases his fingers out, shuddering at the way Cas' body clenches around them. He slicks himself before lowering his body over Cas, pushing his knees up and out before starting that first slow press inside.
Cas makes a long, broken noise, and Sam pauses halfway in, shutting his eyes tightly to gain a bit of control over himself.
"You okay? You need me to stop? All you have to do is tell me if you do." But Cas shakes his head frantically, bringing his feet up to the small of Sam's back and pulling, and Sam is powerless to fight that. He leans in to place a soft, lingering kiss at the bend of Cas' knee before pushing forward the rest of the way, crying out at the feeling of Cas tight around him.
He drops down, resting part of his weight on Cas, and is deeply satisfied when Cas wraps his free arm around Sam's back, using that one and the hand in his hair to tug him down the rest of the way.
There's nothing between their bodies now, and Sam rocks gently into him, enjoying the whimpers and moans he can coax out of Cas' mouth. They continue that way for what feels like ages, until Cas starts groaning in earnest. Sam knows he's getting close, and he braces his weight on one forearm before reaching down to slip his other hand under Cas' ass. He lifts, pulling Cas' pelvis into his, and thrusts again.
Cas' response is instant, a sharp, surprised cry that galvanizes Sam. He fucks into Cas, their bodies pressed tightly together as he drags across Cas' prostate over and over. Cas whines, confused, and Sam pulls his head back to rest their foreheads together.
"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. Just let go, I've got you, I promise." As soon as Sam says those words, Cas locks up, staring into Sam's eyes as he comes between them with a soft, stunned noise.
The look of awe that he's fixing on Sam, together with the way Cas' body has tightened down impossibly around him, proves to be too much for Sam to withstand. He thrusts in just twice more before groaning as he spills himself inside of Cas. He drops his head to Cas' shoulder as he rocks them both through their orgasms, finally stilling when it gets to be too much.
"Cas, I…" he has to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, because even if he's feeling what he thinks he is, this isn't the right time to say it. He kisses Cas tenderly rather than finish his sentence, and Cas seems content to return it.
After he eases himself out, he tucks himself into Cas' side. Cas wraps both arms around him, slipping a leg between his, and he dozes off with the first hints of moonlight streaming through the window.
---
It's dark when Sam wakes up, and his position is a familiar one, though he no longer feels embarrassment when he remembers that first morning he woke with Cas. He knows that Cas doesn't sleep, but he has some kind of meditative rest thing that he's gotten in the habit of doing when he's with Sam.
Except he doesn't seem to be resting now. Instead, he's rocking up languidly into Sam's thigh where it's sprawled between his legs. Sam lifts his head and sees Cas, eyes shut and head thrown back on the pillow. His lips are parted, short puffs of breath coming quickly, and if he knows Sam's awake he gives no indication. Sam takes the opportunity to press his leg more firmly into Cas' groin.
His eyes fly open, and he looks right at Sam with an expression so intense Sam thinks maybe he should be alarmed.
Before Sam can register what's happening, Cas has flipped them over, straddling his waist. Sam's already hard as a rock, and Cas reaches behind his back to take hold of Sam's cock before lowering himself slowly onto it.
Sam has to bite back a yelp as the last hazy remnants of sleep are ripped violently away from him. All of his focus is on Cas' ass, still messy and open from last night, and his eyes, which are boring darkly into Sam's own.
He bucks his hips, drawing a moan from Cas, and he can't help but think that he's created a monster when Cas shoves back, impaling himself on Sam. A deep flush covers his chest, and Sam reaches up to drag his thumb over a nipple as Cas rides him slowly. It's perfect, and unexpected, and everything he could want, except… he's missing something.
"Cas," he pants, "I need, I need." He gives up on words, grabbing Cas' hand where it's gripping his hip and pulling it up to rest over his heart. He wills Cas to understand that he wants this, that he wants that connection between them even if his soul doesn't need healing anymore. He's grown used to it, finding comfort and peace in it, and he needs it now more than anything.
Cas stares down at him, eyes unfathomable, before spreading his fingers across the skin of Sam's chest and digging his fingertips in, hard enough to leave bruises. And then he's opening the connection, so suddenly that Sam shouts at the overwhelming rush of it.
Still fucking himself down onto Sam, Cas reaches with his grace, seeking Sam's soul. Sam responds eagerly, and when they meet and twist together Sam nearly blacks out with how good it feels. Neither of them will last long like this, Cas shoving down to meet Sam's thrusts, and as they both hurtle toward the edge Sam hears Cas whispering frantically.
"I can't, I can't stop, Sam, I'm going to…"
"Do it," Sam grunts, not quite knowing what he's agreeing to, grabbing Cas' arm to hold his hand in place while fitting his other hand around Cas' hip. He bucks up, hard, and he only has a moment to feel himself start to come before Cas is crying out, his voice almost enough to hurt Sam's ears. He slaps his free hand down over Sam's eyes, and Sam finds himself enveloped in every warm feeling he's ever felt from Cas, magnified a hundredfold.
Love, unconditional acceptance, awe, and wonder wash over him as he distantly registers Cas' release splattering his stomach and a bright glow edging in between Cas' fingers. It's like nothing he's ever felt, and he wants to cling to it, but he can't handle all of those feelings for very long. Before he can stop it, he's slipping away from consciousness.
---
Sam's entire body feels like jelly. He can hardly move his limbs, but he feels so safe and sated that he can't bring himself to care. He cracks his eyes open, and Cas is right there, hovering over him and watching him nervously. The early morning sun is just starting to light the room.
"Hey, Cas," he yawns, "you okay?" Cas nods, smiling at him shyly. "That was… I don't even know what it was. Awesome just doesn't quite cover it. I don't think I can move right now, though."
"Yes, I expect that's because of the effects of my grace. Our connection last night was intense, to say the least."
"Yeah, I definitely agree with that. Wait, am I angel drunk again?" He frowns, taking a quick inventory of how he's feeling. "I don't think I am."
"No, Sam, you're not. Now, I don't want you to get upset, but I'm afraid I lost control of myself just a bit last night."
"I'd say you did." Sam chuckles, low and dirty. "I didn't know you had it in you, though I am absolutely not complaining."
Cas huffs, exasperated, though the blush stealing across his cheeks takes away from the effect of it.
"That's not what I mean, although I did enjoy… that aspect of it. Very much," he reassures Sam before continuing. "How much of it do you remember at the end?"
Sam's eyebrows draw together, considering. He remembers Cas on top of him, and the feeling of Cas' grace inside of him. He vaguely recalls a white light, and an engulfing warmth, and then nothing. Oh, he thinks, putting the pieces together. Oh.
"Yes," Cas confirms, clearly following Sam's thoughts. "Combining the bond between us with a more… physical bonding proved to be a bit too much for me to control. I'm afraid that my true form came to the surface, if only for a few moments."
"Wow," Sam says, dumbfounded. "It felt... really amazing. But why are you so freaked out? I'm not mad at you. I'm kind of honored, as weird as that may sound."
"I could have blinded you!" Cas fixes an unconvincing scowl on Sam. "You need to understand how dangerous this was."
"Yeah, but it wasn't, was it? You protected me. I told you a long time ago, Cas. I trust you. Even more now than I did back then." He nudges Cas with his knee. "I love you, you know? I was nervous about saying it before, but after what I felt last night I want to be sure you know that."
Cas smiles at him, open and fond, before turning serious again.
"I suppose I should just let you see," he sighs, "as you'll only find out on your own if I don't." Sam frowns at him, confused, and Cas looks pointedly at Sam's chest. Sam follows his gaze, and oh. Wow, wasn't expecting that.
"You branded me?" Sam sits up abruptly, and Cas has to catch his shoulder when he sways dizzily. "This looks like the mark on Dean's shoulder." His thoughts are racing, drawing any number of unpleasant conclusions, and he draws in a ragged breath before silencing them. "Maybe you'd better explain." Cas nods, and Sam flops back against the pillows.
"That mark is the result of my true form connecting with your body. Grace isn't made to interact with humans that way, and though mine has formed a bond with your soul, you're not meant to be exposed to it directly." He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "Dean bears a similar mark, gained when I returned his soul to his body. I didn't have a vessel then, and it was unavoidable.
"The marks aren't the same, though they may appear so. They're each physical signs of the bonds they represent, and my bond with your brother could not be any more different than my bond with you. I left traces of my grace behind when I brought him back from Hell. Nothing more."
"Okay, so…" Sam closes his mouth, not sure how to continue. "So what does this represent?" he asks, gesturing at the mark on his chest. Rather than answer, Cas fits his hand over it, and an all-consuming sense of love and acceptance rushes through him. He opens his mouth on a silent cry before Cas pulls reluctantly away.
"That is the bond between us," Cas answers simply, and Sam pulls him down for a kiss. He tries to pour all of his feelings into it, even if Cas can sense them already. Sam just really wants him to understand.
"I'm proud to have it," he whispers into Cas' mouth before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in tight.
He's too exhausted at this point to seriously consider going another round with Cas, to his great disappointment. They lie in bed a while longer, talking about nothing and exchanging kisses, before getting up to make breakfast. Sam makes pancakes, which he knows Cas loves despite his attempts at indifference, and they eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
"I think I'm ready to see Dean," Sam tells him, a bit hesitant to return to their conversation from the previous day. It seems so long ago. "Don't think that means I'm done with this, not for a second, okay? I want you to come with me. And wherever I end up settling down, I want you with me, just like we are now. If you want," he adds quickly, not wanting to seem presumptuous.
"I do," Cas assures him, squeezing his hand and smiling at Sam's anxiousness. "But not quite like this. It's something I've been wanting to discuss with you, actually."
Sam's heart leaps into his throat, and he's annoyed at himself for suddenly being so nervous. It's just that now he has this with Cas, he's kind of terrified of losing it.
"What is it?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You know that I find little joy in most of my duties in Heaven. Some of the work I do is important, rewarding, but much of my time is consumed by petty squabbling among my brothers and sisters. I've been working on finding a way to delegate those responsibilities in order to allow myself more time on earth." With you, he doesn't say.
"And? Any luck?"
"There are two angels, Balthazar and Rachel, whom I have known for a very long time. I believe I can rely on them to deal with the more tedious, day-to-day tasks. I would still have a great deal of work, but I could be with you almost every night. If you'd like."
"Yeah, Cas, of course I'd like," Sam grins. He flips their hands, squeezing Cas' now. "Just so long as I still get to have you, I'll be good."
"Good." Cas smiles. "You should get ready. It's time to go see your brother."
---
Six Months Later
Sam's sitting on the front porch swing, drinking a beer and watching the sun sink over the neighboring houses. This particular house hadn't had a swing when he'd moved in, but with permission from the landlord he'd installed one.
He missed the one at the cabin sometimes, and although he didn't say anything, he knew Cas did too. They've made a few nice memories on this one already, though, and he smiles just thinking about it.
His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see a text from Dean.
Dude. Don't forget about the cookout tomorrow, or Lisa will kick your ass. Get your wife to make a pie or something.
Sam laughs and sends back a quick affirmative reply, making sure to let Dean know that he's a jerk and that, sooner or later, Cas is going to overhear one of these "wife" comments and end up smiting him.
Things had been kind of rough at first. Dean had been determined to kill him when he showed up on their doorstep in Cicero, assuming shapeshifter, revenant, and every other terrible alternative to the truth.
Cas' presence had gone a long way to easing his mind, at least, and fortunately their reunion went off without any bloodshed.
Of course, that's not counting the split lip Sam took when Dean found out he'd been back from Hell for two months without letting him know. His anger had been short-lived, though, when Sam had explained -- in deliberately vague detail -- what he'd been doing for all that time.
It's beyond fucked up, but Sam is lucky to have a brother who understands what it means to go to Hell and come back. Their experiences were vastly different, but he knows Dean gets it on a level that nobody else really can.
At least the memories have healed over for both of them, Dean's with time and Sam's with Cas' painstaking assistance. They've managed to pull off some reasonable facsimile of well-adjusted that Sam never would have expected for either of them. Lisa and Ben had accepted him without question, for which he was exceedingly grateful, and Lisa had found him a place in the neighborhood almost right away. He's in a duplex two blocks from Dean, shared with his elderly landlord on the other side.
She's tiny, sweet, and apparently hard of hearing, but that doesn't stop her from throwing Sam and Cas indulgent winks whenever she sees them together. He takes a lot of comfort in the knowledge that if she usually doesn't catch his "Good morning, Mrs. Rogers," then she probably can't hear him and Cas through the walls at night. He fervently hopes not, anyway.
With that thought comes the flutter of wings, and he smiles before pulling another beer out of the cooler at his feet. Cas settles next to him and takes it with a quiet thanks.
"How was your day?" Sam asks, aware of how bizarrely domestic their situation is and finding it impossible to care even a little bit.
"It was okay," Cas tells him, and then sighs dramatically. "Balthazar was complaining about the cherubim; it seems they're being overly affectionate whenever he visits them to deliver orders."
"So nothing new, then," Sam chuckles. Cas nods in agreement before smiling softly.
"I'm glad to be home," he murmurs, and then turns to catch Sam's mouth with his own. They kiss for a long moment, lazy and comfortable, before reluctantly pulling apart.
"Me too, Cas," Sam grins. "Me too."
Over the next two weeks, Cas comes to the cabin five times. Each time is a little bit different, the healing affecting him in different ways, but Sam finds that he never has nightmares on the evenings that Cas visits.
The healing process still scares him, and the connection to Cas' grace is always intense, but Sam finds himself looking forward to Cas' visits more and more. It's not just the lack of nightmares, either. He enjoys the time he gets to spend with Cas before they get to work.
They don't always talk, but the last time Cas visited, Sam convinced him to eat a bowl of chili with him, and he was unaccountably proud when Cas agreed without a fuss.
Sam took more enjoyment than he should have at the alarmed look on Cas' face after biting into a habanero pepper. Several glasses of water (and just as many pointed glares at Sam) later, they established that Cas doesn't like spicy food. He had frowned disapprovingly at Sam's laughter, but there was an indulgent fondness in it that Sam can recognize now.
That was the day before yesterday. Today, he gets up early and bundles up in the warmest clothes he can find in the dresser. Cas had provided everything he could possibly need, from thermal long underwear to a heavy knit hat, and he layers it all on before pulling on a pair of boots and heading outside.
Sam's slowly-building cabin fever is no longer alleviated by a few hours on the front porch, so he's decided to go for a hike. Or rather, a walk in the woods, because he's not really up for anything quite as strenuous as a full-blown hike.
It's still early when he leaves, and he can see his breath in front of his face, little puffs of fog every time he exhales. He stays out for several hours, the exertion of picking his way through the woods keeping him warm. There aren't any defined trails out here, so he makes his own way, careful to always keep the cabin in sight. The leaves have mostly fallen by now, and thanks to the sparseness of the trees he can go a fair distance before he loses view of it.
The change of scenery provides an opportunity for Sam to think. He's been trying not to think of Dean since he came back, but he knows that sort of avoidance can't work in the long term. He feels better, stronger since Cas has been helping him.
Maybe he'll be healed sooner than expected. He'll be able to go to Dean without being a burden. Dean won't have to leave Lisa or whatever sort of life they have, because Sam is done. Done with hunting, done with traveling, and ready to settle in one place with his brother close by. It's idealistic in a way Sam should know better than to be, but the thought of it makes him grin.
Sam works his way in a wide, rough circle around the cabin, taking advantage of the occasional beaten-down animal trail to make his walk easier. He doesn't see any wildlife; he knows he's making far too much noise to accidentally sneak up on anything, but the fresh air is invigorating and he can't help but be glad he ventured out here.
By the time he makes his way back to the cabin, it's mid-afternoon. It's chilly, and he gets a fire going before stripping off his layers and heading to the kitchen. After two bowls of soup and some crackers, he has to concede his own exhaustion from his morning. He imagines Dean laughing at him, getting soft, Sam, all worn out from your nature walk, and it doesn't sting as much as he would have expected.
It's early, but the sky is overcast and he's sleepy. Sam crawls into bed, pulling the blanket up over his head to block out the muted sunlight. He falls asleep within minutes.
---
Sam jolts awake from a nightmare and looks wildly around the room. It's almost pitch dark, only the slightest bit of twilight still filtering through the windows. He's drenched with sweat, turning icy on his skin, and he's wracked with full-body shivers.
His brain is sluggish, and it takes him several minutes to realize that the fire has burned down to embers. He was so tired earlier that he had forgotten to stoke it, to add more firewood, and he curses his own stupidity.
The tips of his fingers and toes are numb, more so than they should be given the temperature outside, and he can feel ice creeping through his limbs like poison. He shivers again, violent, and tries to gasp out a prayer through numb lips.
"Cas," he chokes, barely audible. Several long seconds pass, and he feels it, he knows, he's going to die. He's going to freeze to death in this cabin, too painfully cold to call for help again.
"Sam," the bed dips and he feels a hand cupping his cheek. It burns, so unbelievably hot against his skin, and he would pull away if he had any control of himself. The hand tilts his head to the side and he sees Cas in front of him, his eyes wide with alarm. "What happened?" Cas asks, though he seems to realize immediately that Sam can't respond. He turns to glance briefly over his shoulder, and the fire roars back to life.
He stands up, releasing Sam, and begins shedding his clothes. First his coat, then his suit jacket and tie, but Sam doesn't see anything else as he squeezes his eyes shut against another shudder. He realizes distantly that his teeth are chattering, no matter how hard he wills them to stop.
Even though his intentions had been somewhat obvious, Sam jerks in surprise when Cas slides into the bed behind him, easing himself under the covers before fitting himself up against Sam's back. He winds their feet together and wraps his arms around Sam's waist to grab his hands, breath warm against the back of Sam's neck.
Sam is still shivering, still unbelievably cold, but the difference is immediate. That icy feeling that had been coursing through his veins is abating, slowly but surely. His shivers are less violent, and he thinks he's never felt anything that was such a relief as Cas' body, one long, hot line pressed up tightly behind him. He hopes desperately that Cas will stay.
"You'll be all right. I'm not leaving. You should rest; things will be better in the morning."
Sam's powerless to argue, with a warm pressure pushing him down, enveloping him where Cas's arms can't reach.
He has a moment to think wings before he slips into unconsciousness, feeling safer than he has in a long, long time.
---
Sam wakes up gradually, unwilling to let go of the delicious warmth he feels in the haze of sleep. It permeates his entire body, welcoming and perfect, and he realizes blearily that he's hard.
He hasn't gotten hard since he came back from the Cage.
Sam has no intention of wasting it now, either, already shifting around to get better friction. He ruts down lazily, groaning in satisfaction at the pressure against his dick. In his current state, only half-awake and suddenly very horny, he doesn't give much thought to what he's thrusting against. The mattress, he figures, gasping as he presses down again.
Then whatever it is moves. Sam's eyes fly open, and he sees Cas watching him with a look of curiosity and something else that he can't quite read. He makes a strangled noise when he realizes he's sprawled half on top of Cas, and he's been pushing himself into the hollow of Cas' hip.
Sam draws back quickly as if he's been burnt and tumbles off the edge of the bed. His face is on fire as he disentangles himself from the sheets around his legs before mumbling an apology and making a dash for the bathroom.
Once the door is shut and locked behind him, he lets out a ragged breath. Every instinct is telling him not to, and that it's wrong, but he shoves down his boxers and takes his dick in his hand, dragging his palm up the length of it.
He's so embarrassed, and more than a bit ashamed, and he knows that Cas is on the other side of the door with the same bewildered expression Sam had seen before slamming the door closed. He should stop. He should take a cold shower and go back out there and apologize profusely. At the very least, he shouldn't be jerking himself off with the image of curious blue eyes seared into his mind.
Except he knows what he felt in that moment before he pulled away. Cas had been hard, too. That thought is enough to send him over the edge, biting his lip to keep quiet as he comes all over his hand.
He takes a steadying breath as the shame comes rushing in, trying to slow his heart rate back down to something normal. It takes a few minutes, but then he rearranges his clothes, washes his hands, and shuts his eyes, bracing himself for the awkward conversation waiting in the other room.
When he opens the bathroom door, Cas is fully dressed again, sitting on the edge of the bed. He looks up at Sam, questioning, and Sam sighs.
"I'm really sorry about that, Cas. I didn't mean to… I wouldn't have done that if I had realized what I was doing. It won't happen again, I swear."
Cas frowns and stands up.
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Sam. I trust that you're feeling better?" Sam nods dumbly, realizing after an embarrassing second that Cas is talking about his episode of the previous night, not his frantic masturbating session of five minutes ago. "I need to get back," Cas continues. "I was in the middle of something, and I've been gone for much longer than I expected."
Sam is saved the trouble of finding something to say when Cas disappears without another word.
For some reason, he doesn't feel embarrassed anymore. He just feels like an asshole.
---
Cas comes back two days later, unusually stiff and formal as he instructs Sam to sit in the chair by the fireplace before getting to work. It feels weird, the intimacy of the connection between Cas' grace and his soul at complete odds with the impersonal, businesslike manner in which Cas is conducting himself.
He's there for an hour, deep in concentration and not looking at Sam, before he finishes abruptly and leaves with barely a goodbye.
Sam can't help but think that he's fucked everything up. Over the past weeks, he and Cas have gotten closer than he realized, bonding over easy conversations and the occasional shared meal as much as through the healing sessions. He may not have noticed it happening, but he feels the absence of it like a physical pain and he wishes he could do something to make it better.
It takes two more visits in which Cas treats him almost as a stranger before he decides he's had enough.
It's a sunny day, warmer than it's been in a while, and he's out on the porch with a blanket as usual. He doesn't have a book today, though, and he steels himself before shutting his eyes.
"Hey, Cas, do you think you could come down here?" He doesn't say anything else, leaving it deliberately vague. He might feel bad about misleading the angel if he weren't so afraid he'd be ignored if he explained himself further.
Cas appears almost immediately; for all that he's been distant, he still clearly cares about Sam's well-being and his expression is one of concern. It turns to confusion as he sees their surroundings, since he and Sam haven't interacted outside of the cabin since he's been here.
"Sam? Is there… is something wrong?" He sounds uneasy, though when Sam shakes his head, he relaxes noticeably.
"I just wanted to see you, man. You've been busy lately, which I get; I know the work you're doing in Heaven is important. I just miss hanging out with you, and I was hoping you might have a few minutes free."
Cas slumps, the tension leaking out of his frame.
"That would actually be quite nice. Things have been tedious and frustrating lately, I admit, and I could use the break." He walks over to the swing, lifting the edge of the blanket and sitting next to Sam before dropping it back over his legs. He stares out at the trees for a few minutes, unmoving, but Sam can tell that he's gradually unwinding.
He doesn't know if he should bring up what happened the other morning, but he really, really, doesn't want to. He just wishes things weren't awkward anymore; he wants them to get back to the way things were before.
"I've read almost all the books you brought," he tries. "Well, except that romance novel, but that's not really my thing."
Cas turns and looks at him, his expression carefully blank, though he's radiating amusement. Sam's not sure how he can tell, but he knows that Cas is trying very hard not to roll his eyes right now.
"Okay, okay, fine," Sam mutters. "And it was good, okay? But this stays between us."
Cas nods seriously before letting a smile slip, and Sam feels palpable relief when he sees that fond expression.
He realizes then what's been happening gradually since the first night Cas watched over him, no matter how much he'd been denying it in his own mind. It hadn't been an accident that morning in his bed, it hadn't been overactive hormones or anything else like that.
The excitement that he feels when Cas arrives has nothing to do with the angel helping to heal his soul, though when he thinks of everything Cas has done for him already, he's overwhelmed with gratitude. Beyond that, though, he realizes that all this time, he's been growing to love Cas. As a friend and a brother, sure, but becoming more than that every day.
They're still looking at one another, so close together, but Sam can't make that move. After what happened before, the idea of making Cas uncomfortable or doing anything he doesn't want makes Sam feel sick.
Cas might be his friend, but that affection must have its limits, and Sam can't see any reason why Cas would choose him of all people to care about, to love.
All the logic in the world can't silence the small voice in his head that's shouting to pull him closer, to kiss him, to show him how much love Sam could give if he had the chance.
All of his inner conflict proves to be for nothing when Cas leans in and kisses him first. Sam's mouth parts on a small gasp, and their lips fit together just so. Cas pulls back, looking shocked and for all the world like he's about to fly away. Sam reaches out and grabs his wrist, knowing he can't stop him if he really wants to go, but also knowing that he has to try.
"Cas, wait, you…" he shakes himself, trying to pull his thoughts together when he can't stop thinking about the way Cas' lips had felt against his. "You didn't have to do that just because you thought I wanted it. I know you heard me thinking about it, but I don't want you to do anything that you don't want, too. You mean way too much to me, okay? I understand if you don't care about me… that way." As he talks, Cas looks increasingly perplexed, so he cuts himself off mid-ramble and waits for Cas to respond.
"Sam," Cas begins hesitantly, "I don't read your thoughts if I can help it. I know that humans don't like that, and I wouldn't want to betray your trust, especially after all that you've been through. It's difficult to block them out while I'm healing you or when you're particularly distressed, but I can assure you that I was not listening to them just now."
Sam just stares at him, not sure why Cas is telling him this, and then it clicks. Cas had wanted to kiss him, and he had wanted it with absolutely no influence from Sam. The knowledge makes him break out in a wide grin, and he leans in before pausing to search Cas' eyes for permission. After a minute, Sam sees what he's looking for, and he crashes their lips together.
Cas makes a small noise. For a brief moment Sam reads it as distress and moves to pull back, but then Cas is wrapping his hand around the back of Sam's neck and opening his mouth. Encouraged, Sam surges forward to slide his tongue alongside Cas'.
It's electric, and he can feel the fine hairs on his arms raising as Cas moans into the kiss, tugging at Sam's shoulders like he isn't sure what he wants, only that he wants it very badly.
Sam pulls back and sucks in a lungful of air, having to fight the urge to just dive back in when he sees the way that Cas' mouth is pink and swollen.
"Cas, are you sure? Because I am, I really am, but I don't want you to feel like you have to for any reason at all." Sam knows he's rambling again, but he just has to know. Cas pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath.
"That morning, after I stayed the night with you, was very strange for me. I know that we've been forming a bond since you've been here, but I've never," he pauses, looking back out at the trees. "I've never had feelings of that nature for anyone. I didn't know what to do, but when you fled so quickly, I assumed you didn't share them." Sam groans, feeling suddenly stupid. "When you came back, you assured me it was a mistake, merely a physical reaction. I'm not proud of my actions, but it was difficult for me to spend time with you with that knowledge in mind."
"No, no, I'm sorry. I am so sorry for that. I was freaked out and embarrassed, but it wasn't a mistake. It was you, okay? That's the first time that I…" he trails off, unwilling to spell it out. "Since Hell, you know? It was because of you. Because of the way I feel about you."
Cas nods slowly, reaching across to take Sam's hand. He shifts into Sam's space and kisses him again, chaste and tender, before leaning against Sam's side. They stay like that for most of the afternoon, speaking only occasionally, and Sam can't help but think he hasn't felt this warm in years.
---
Over the next few weeks, they continue with their normal routine. Cas comes by at least every other evening, and he works painstakingly to heal the damage to Sam's soul.
Sam thinks he must be nearly done, because he hasn't had a nightmare or an episode since the day Cas kissed him on the porch.
For all that they follow the same routine, things feel completely different. When Cas' grace connects them, there's a new layer to the intimacy and Sam welcomes it without trepidation. He can feel the link between them growing stronger, and he feels stronger as a result.
The other difference is that, when he's finished, Cas doesn't leave. He crawls into bed with Sam, and they exchange kisses -- sometimes sweet, sometimes heated -- until Sam falls asleep. With a few rare exceptions, Cas is always there in the morning, as well. He waits for Sam to wake up before he says his goodbyes, promising to be back by the following day.
One morning in early December, things change. Sam knows it's early December -- December 4th, to be exact -- because he'd asked Cas once what the date was, and the following morning there had been a page-a-day calendar on the kitchen table. A kitten-themed page-a-day calendar.
When he'd asked Cas about it, he'd gotten a blank stare in return, but he's still pretty sure the angel was fucking with him.
Anyway, it's December 4th, the calendar is showcasing a calico kitten peeking out of a basket of yarn, and Sam is restless. He hasn't felt anything but those minor bouts of cabin fever in the weeks he's been here, and they've always been easily cured by a few hours of fresh air.
This morning, though, Cas left before he woke up, and he's spent the entire day pacing the cabin. It feels too small and too empty all at once, and he debates for most of the afternoon about whether or not to call Cas down early.
He's ready to see Dean. He needs to see him. Sam tries to cook lunch for himself early in the afternoon, but he's distracted with the need to call Cas, to do something, and his stir-fry gets left on the stove to go cold.
Sam is saved the trouble of making a decision when Cas comes back around dusk. He halts in his pacing when he hears him arrive, and turns to see Cas watching him with his brow furrowed.
"Sit down," he orders, and Sam does. This is a familiar routine for them by now, but Sam feels only the briefest flare of a connection before Cas withdraws. He looks up, disappointed, but Cas is smiling. An open, broad thing that takes Sam's breath from his chest.
"What is it, Cas? Is everything okay?"
"I could tell last night that I was close to being finished with your healing, and I thought it might only take one or two more sessions." Cas grips Sam's hand in both of his. "But it seems that your soul has healed the remainder of the damage on its own."
"Wait, so that's it? We're finished?" Cas frowns briefly at his phrasing, but nods.
"Your soul is back to what it was before you fell into the Cage. Better, even, since you no longer have to fight against the influence of Azazel's blood. I'd imagine that's why you're feeling so restless," he adds. "You're free to do what you like now, without worrying about having any more 'episodes.'"
"I want to see Dean," Sam tells him immediately. "I wasn't ready before, and I wanted to get better before I went to him. I didn't want to mess things up for him and Lisa and Ben, but I think I'm ready now."
"I understand," Cas responds quietly, not meeting his eyes. "Your soul knew when you were healed, even before you did, and it's only natural that you would be eager to move on. I will take you there as soon as you're ready to go." He slips his hands from Sam's.
"Whoa, whoa, hold on, Cas." Sam catches Cas' jaw in his hand and tips his head up, forcing him to look at Sam. "I'm not in that much of a hurry. Is everything okay?"
Cas sighs, his eyes darting away again.
"It's been a tiring day, but yes. Everything is fine." His hands are clenched into fists, resting on his thighs, and he's the absolute image of discomfort. Sam almost smiles, because even after everything that they've been through, everything that's changed between he and Dean and Cas, one thing has held constant. Cas can't lie for shit.
"You know, lying's a sin," he teases gently. Cas shoots him an unimpressed look, but he presses on. "I understand if something's bothering you and you're not ready to talk about it, but give me some credit, man. I know something's wrong, and you know you can tell me anything. You already know everything there is to know about me," he adds with a rueful half-smile.
"I may know your soul, but I don't know everything about you. Not even close. You surprise me every day." Cas is so earnest that Sam squirms under his gaze. At least Cas is looking at him now, and he takes it as an encouraging sign.
"Cas," he pleads, "you've already done so much for me. Let me help you, okay?"
"Sam, you don't…" Cas huffs in frustration, clearly unwilling to continue. "You don't need to worry about any obligation to me," he mumbles. "You don't owe me any debt for healing you, and I don't expect you to want to continue this," a pause, "relationship, now that you're ready to move on to a more normal life."
Sam gapes at him, realizing that Cas is mistaking his eagerness to see Dean as eagerness to get away from Cas, which is really, really not okay. He takes Cas' face in both of his hands then and tugs him up into a rough kiss. Cas allows himself to be pulled in, opening up to Sam immediately.
"Cas," he pants after a minute. "That's not what I want at all. I want you, whether it's in this cabin or in Indiana or anywhere else." He kisses him again, exhilarated to feel Cas responding in kind, sharp and messy. He lies back on the bed, pulling Cas with him until the other man is straddling him, groaning into his mouth at the contact.
They haven't done more than kiss since that awkward morning together. Sam hasn't really felt ready, his mind and soul still feeling raw at times. He's pretty sure that Cas has never done anything like this before, so he's been in no rush either.
Right now, though, with their bodies pressed together, he wants nothing more than to feel Cas' skin against his. He hopes Cas feels the same way.
Then Cas is sitting back, pulling off his coat and jacket, and Sam grins because, yeah, they're on the same page. He watches as Cas tugs off his tie and unbuttons his shirt, finally exposing the pale chest that Sam has caught himself imagining more than once. He surges up, burying his face in the curve of Cas' neck and inhaling the scent of his skin.
Cas smells clean, bright and sharp, like the air before a lightning storm. Sam finds that he can't get enough as he darts out his tongue to drag it across his skin, nipping lightly at the curve of his shoulder before leaning back to yank his own shirt over his head. Cas lets out a surprised, pleased noise when he presses their bare chests back together, falling back onto the mattress behind him.
They slow down then, kissing deeply but without the frantic edge from minutes before. There's no hurry here, not at all, and the realization that this is Cas' first time is a sobering one.
Sam rolls them over so he's on top, slotted between Cas' legs just right for their erections to press together. Sam gasps at the friction, and Cas stifles a moan. And no, that definitely isn't going to work. He wants to hear Cas come apart underneath him. He wastes no time in undoing Cas' belt and slacks, shifting to the side to drag them down and off his legs, only pausing briefly to pull off his shoes and socks, as well.
Then he has to stop, because Cas is naked. On a bed, naked, with Sam. His skin is flushed, and his expression is shy and guarded, but his cock is hard and straining toward his belly. Sam gives him his best reassuring smile, waiting for Cas to indicate that he's ready. When he gives Sam a small nod, paired with a nervous smile, Sam dips his head down and places a soft kiss at the jutting bone of his hip.
He works his way up Cas' torso, peppering it with kisses, before stopping to tease at his nipples. Cas' surprised oh and the way he arches up toward Sam encourage him, and he nips lightly at one, then the other, before returning to soothe each one with his tongue.
Cas is panting now, his hand coming up to thread fingers through Sam's hair where it's gotten way too long after two months in the middle of nowhere. Finally, Sam's had enough of teasing, and he drags his lips back down Cas' chest, pausing to drop a kiss over his bellybutton before licking a wet stripe up the hard length of his cock.
Cas cries out, bucking up, but Sam had expected that. He lays a forearm across Cas' hips before lowering his head to slide his mouth down, engulfing Cas almost to the base before he has to pull back. He takes Cas in his hand, jacking him slowly as he works his mouth back down over the head. Cas is steadily pushing up against him now, breath coming in harsh gasps.
"Please, Sam," he begs, and his voice has somehow gotten even rougher. Sam has to press a hand to his own dick to regain some semblance of composure before pulling off of Cas and nuzzling his stomach.
"I'd like to do more, Cas, if you're ready. You can be inside of me, or me inside of you, it doesn't matter to me. I just need to get closer." He chances a glance at Cas' face and feels his cock twitch at the lust and need he sees there.
"I'm ready, I want it," he murmurs. "I've never…" he flushes, embarrassed, and Sam reaches up to stroke lightly at his neck, reassuring. "I wouldn't know what I was doing, so it would probably be better if you… and I…" he trails off again, unsure in a way Sam has never seen him.
"And what, Cas?" Sam urges, needing to be sure that this is really what Cas wants.
"I would really like to have you inside of me," Cas whispers, not breaking Sam's gaze.
"Fuck, Cas," Sam groans, dropping his head again. "Yeah, I want that too. Just give me a minute, okay?" He takes a few deep breaths before standing up from the bed and working off his pants and socks. A quick glance at Cas reveals him watching Sam hungrily, shifting his legs apart in a way that seems unconscious but has Sam biting back a groan.
He stops to think for a minute, wondering what they could possibly use to ease the way, since Sam hasn't had any way of getting lube (or any reason to need it) all the way out here.
Cas clears his throat, looking a bit sheepish now. He gestures at the nightstand.
"Second drawer," he mumbles. Sam pulls it open, and sure enough, there's a brand new bottle of KY tucked away in the back. He grabs it and raises an eyebrow at Cas, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Since our relationship changed, I had hoped we might do this eventually. I know… the mechanics of it, and I thought it would be better to be prepared."
"You Boy Scout," Sam chuckles, before dropping back onto the bed to press a fierce kiss against Cas' mouth. He shifts over until he's between Cas' knees, and he opens the lube and pours some on his fingers, rubbing them together to get it warm.
Cas gasps and jerks at the first press against his entrance, and Sam leans in to kiss him as he pushes the first finger in. Cas' mouth falls open on a moan, and he tugs at Sam's hair, thrusting his tongue desperately into Sam's mouth.
Sam works him open slowly, gently, until Cas is rocking down on four of his fingers and choking out broken cries of please and ready and now. He can't wait any longer, and he eases his fingers out, shuddering at the way Cas' body clenches around them. He slicks himself before lowering his body over Cas, pushing his knees up and out before starting that first slow press inside.
Cas makes a long, broken noise, and Sam pauses halfway in, shutting his eyes tightly to gain a bit of control over himself.
"You okay? You need me to stop? All you have to do is tell me if you do." But Cas shakes his head frantically, bringing his feet up to the small of Sam's back and pulling, and Sam is powerless to fight that. He leans in to place a soft, lingering kiss at the bend of Cas' knee before pushing forward the rest of the way, crying out at the feeling of Cas tight around him.
He drops down, resting part of his weight on Cas, and is deeply satisfied when Cas wraps his free arm around Sam's back, using that one and the hand in his hair to tug him down the rest of the way.
There's nothing between their bodies now, and Sam rocks gently into him, enjoying the whimpers and moans he can coax out of Cas' mouth. They continue that way for what feels like ages, until Cas starts groaning in earnest. Sam knows he's getting close, and he braces his weight on one forearm before reaching down to slip his other hand under Cas' ass. He lifts, pulling Cas' pelvis into his, and thrusts again.
Cas' response is instant, a sharp, surprised cry that galvanizes Sam. He fucks into Cas, their bodies pressed tightly together as he drags across Cas' prostate over and over. Cas whines, confused, and Sam pulls his head back to rest their foreheads together.
"Shh, it's okay. You're okay. Just let go, I've got you, I promise." As soon as Sam says those words, Cas locks up, staring into Sam's eyes as he comes between them with a soft, stunned noise.
The look of awe that he's fixing on Sam, together with the way Cas' body has tightened down impossibly around him, proves to be too much for Sam to withstand. He thrusts in just twice more before groaning as he spills himself inside of Cas. He drops his head to Cas' shoulder as he rocks them both through their orgasms, finally stilling when it gets to be too much.
"Cas, I…" he has to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, because even if he's feeling what he thinks he is, this isn't the right time to say it. He kisses Cas tenderly rather than finish his sentence, and Cas seems content to return it.
After he eases himself out, he tucks himself into Cas' side. Cas wraps both arms around him, slipping a leg between his, and he dozes off with the first hints of moonlight streaming through the window.
---
It's dark when Sam wakes up, and his position is a familiar one, though he no longer feels embarrassment when he remembers that first morning he woke with Cas. He knows that Cas doesn't sleep, but he has some kind of meditative rest thing that he's gotten in the habit of doing when he's with Sam.
Except he doesn't seem to be resting now. Instead, he's rocking up languidly into Sam's thigh where it's sprawled between his legs. Sam lifts his head and sees Cas, eyes shut and head thrown back on the pillow. His lips are parted, short puffs of breath coming quickly, and if he knows Sam's awake he gives no indication. Sam takes the opportunity to press his leg more firmly into Cas' groin.
His eyes fly open, and he looks right at Sam with an expression so intense Sam thinks maybe he should be alarmed.
Before Sam can register what's happening, Cas has flipped them over, straddling his waist. Sam's already hard as a rock, and Cas reaches behind his back to take hold of Sam's cock before lowering himself slowly onto it.
Sam has to bite back a yelp as the last hazy remnants of sleep are ripped violently away from him. All of his focus is on Cas' ass, still messy and open from last night, and his eyes, which are boring darkly into Sam's own.
He bucks his hips, drawing a moan from Cas, and he can't help but think that he's created a monster when Cas shoves back, impaling himself on Sam. A deep flush covers his chest, and Sam reaches up to drag his thumb over a nipple as Cas rides him slowly. It's perfect, and unexpected, and everything he could want, except… he's missing something.
"Cas," he pants, "I need, I need." He gives up on words, grabbing Cas' hand where it's gripping his hip and pulling it up to rest over his heart. He wills Cas to understand that he wants this, that he wants that connection between them even if his soul doesn't need healing anymore. He's grown used to it, finding comfort and peace in it, and he needs it now more than anything.
Cas stares down at him, eyes unfathomable, before spreading his fingers across the skin of Sam's chest and digging his fingertips in, hard enough to leave bruises. And then he's opening the connection, so suddenly that Sam shouts at the overwhelming rush of it.
Still fucking himself down onto Sam, Cas reaches with his grace, seeking Sam's soul. Sam responds eagerly, and when they meet and twist together Sam nearly blacks out with how good it feels. Neither of them will last long like this, Cas shoving down to meet Sam's thrusts, and as they both hurtle toward the edge Sam hears Cas whispering frantically.
"I can't, I can't stop, Sam, I'm going to…"
"Do it," Sam grunts, not quite knowing what he's agreeing to, grabbing Cas' arm to hold his hand in place while fitting his other hand around Cas' hip. He bucks up, hard, and he only has a moment to feel himself start to come before Cas is crying out, his voice almost enough to hurt Sam's ears. He slaps his free hand down over Sam's eyes, and Sam finds himself enveloped in every warm feeling he's ever felt from Cas, magnified a hundredfold.
Love, unconditional acceptance, awe, and wonder wash over him as he distantly registers Cas' release splattering his stomach and a bright glow edging in between Cas' fingers. It's like nothing he's ever felt, and he wants to cling to it, but he can't handle all of those feelings for very long. Before he can stop it, he's slipping away from consciousness.
---
Sam's entire body feels like jelly. He can hardly move his limbs, but he feels so safe and sated that he can't bring himself to care. He cracks his eyes open, and Cas is right there, hovering over him and watching him nervously. The early morning sun is just starting to light the room.
"Hey, Cas," he yawns, "you okay?" Cas nods, smiling at him shyly. "That was… I don't even know what it was. Awesome just doesn't quite cover it. I don't think I can move right now, though."
"Yes, I expect that's because of the effects of my grace. Our connection last night was intense, to say the least."
"Yeah, I definitely agree with that. Wait, am I angel drunk again?" He frowns, taking a quick inventory of how he's feeling. "I don't think I am."
"No, Sam, you're not. Now, I don't want you to get upset, but I'm afraid I lost control of myself just a bit last night."
"I'd say you did." Sam chuckles, low and dirty. "I didn't know you had it in you, though I am absolutely not complaining."
Cas huffs, exasperated, though the blush stealing across his cheeks takes away from the effect of it.
"That's not what I mean, although I did enjoy… that aspect of it. Very much," he reassures Sam before continuing. "How much of it do you remember at the end?"
Sam's eyebrows draw together, considering. He remembers Cas on top of him, and the feeling of Cas' grace inside of him. He vaguely recalls a white light, and an engulfing warmth, and then nothing. Oh, he thinks, putting the pieces together. Oh.
"Yes," Cas confirms, clearly following Sam's thoughts. "Combining the bond between us with a more… physical bonding proved to be a bit too much for me to control. I'm afraid that my true form came to the surface, if only for a few moments."
"Wow," Sam says, dumbfounded. "It felt... really amazing. But why are you so freaked out? I'm not mad at you. I'm kind of honored, as weird as that may sound."
"I could have blinded you!" Cas fixes an unconvincing scowl on Sam. "You need to understand how dangerous this was."
"Yeah, but it wasn't, was it? You protected me. I told you a long time ago, Cas. I trust you. Even more now than I did back then." He nudges Cas with his knee. "I love you, you know? I was nervous about saying it before, but after what I felt last night I want to be sure you know that."
Cas smiles at him, open and fond, before turning serious again.
"I suppose I should just let you see," he sighs, "as you'll only find out on your own if I don't." Sam frowns at him, confused, and Cas looks pointedly at Sam's chest. Sam follows his gaze, and oh. Wow, wasn't expecting that.
"You branded me?" Sam sits up abruptly, and Cas has to catch his shoulder when he sways dizzily. "This looks like the mark on Dean's shoulder." His thoughts are racing, drawing any number of unpleasant conclusions, and he draws in a ragged breath before silencing them. "Maybe you'd better explain." Cas nods, and Sam flops back against the pillows.
"That mark is the result of my true form connecting with your body. Grace isn't made to interact with humans that way, and though mine has formed a bond with your soul, you're not meant to be exposed to it directly." He takes a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. "Dean bears a similar mark, gained when I returned his soul to his body. I didn't have a vessel then, and it was unavoidable.
"The marks aren't the same, though they may appear so. They're each physical signs of the bonds they represent, and my bond with your brother could not be any more different than my bond with you. I left traces of my grace behind when I brought him back from Hell. Nothing more."
"Okay, so…" Sam closes his mouth, not sure how to continue. "So what does this represent?" he asks, gesturing at the mark on his chest. Rather than answer, Cas fits his hand over it, and an all-consuming sense of love and acceptance rushes through him. He opens his mouth on a silent cry before Cas pulls reluctantly away.
"That is the bond between us," Cas answers simply, and Sam pulls him down for a kiss. He tries to pour all of his feelings into it, even if Cas can sense them already. Sam just really wants him to understand.
"I'm proud to have it," he whispers into Cas' mouth before wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in tight.
He's too exhausted at this point to seriously consider going another round with Cas, to his great disappointment. They lie in bed a while longer, talking about nothing and exchanging kisses, before getting up to make breakfast. Sam makes pancakes, which he knows Cas loves despite his attempts at indifference, and they eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.
"I think I'm ready to see Dean," Sam tells him, a bit hesitant to return to their conversation from the previous day. It seems so long ago. "Don't think that means I'm done with this, not for a second, okay? I want you to come with me. And wherever I end up settling down, I want you with me, just like we are now. If you want," he adds quickly, not wanting to seem presumptuous.
"I do," Cas assures him, squeezing his hand and smiling at Sam's anxiousness. "But not quite like this. It's something I've been wanting to discuss with you, actually."
Sam's heart leaps into his throat, and he's annoyed at himself for suddenly being so nervous. It's just that now he has this with Cas, he's kind of terrified of losing it.
"What is it?" he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.
"You know that I find little joy in most of my duties in Heaven. Some of the work I do is important, rewarding, but much of my time is consumed by petty squabbling among my brothers and sisters. I've been working on finding a way to delegate those responsibilities in order to allow myself more time on earth." With you, he doesn't say.
"And? Any luck?"
"There are two angels, Balthazar and Rachel, whom I have known for a very long time. I believe I can rely on them to deal with the more tedious, day-to-day tasks. I would still have a great deal of work, but I could be with you almost every night. If you'd like."
"Yeah, Cas, of course I'd like," Sam grins. He flips their hands, squeezing Cas' now. "Just so long as I still get to have you, I'll be good."
"Good." Cas smiles. "You should get ready. It's time to go see your brother."
---
Six Months Later
Sam's sitting on the front porch swing, drinking a beer and watching the sun sink over the neighboring houses. This particular house hadn't had a swing when he'd moved in, but with permission from the landlord he'd installed one.
He missed the one at the cabin sometimes, and although he didn't say anything, he knew Cas did too. They've made a few nice memories on this one already, though, and he smiles just thinking about it.
His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see a text from Dean.
Dude. Don't forget about the cookout tomorrow, or Lisa will kick your ass. Get your wife to make a pie or something.
Sam laughs and sends back a quick affirmative reply, making sure to let Dean know that he's a jerk and that, sooner or later, Cas is going to overhear one of these "wife" comments and end up smiting him.
Things had been kind of rough at first. Dean had been determined to kill him when he showed up on their doorstep in Cicero, assuming shapeshifter, revenant, and every other terrible alternative to the truth.
Cas' presence had gone a long way to easing his mind, at least, and fortunately their reunion went off without any bloodshed.
Of course, that's not counting the split lip Sam took when Dean found out he'd been back from Hell for two months without letting him know. His anger had been short-lived, though, when Sam had explained -- in deliberately vague detail -- what he'd been doing for all that time.
It's beyond fucked up, but Sam is lucky to have a brother who understands what it means to go to Hell and come back. Their experiences were vastly different, but he knows Dean gets it on a level that nobody else really can.
At least the memories have healed over for both of them, Dean's with time and Sam's with Cas' painstaking assistance. They've managed to pull off some reasonable facsimile of well-adjusted that Sam never would have expected for either of them. Lisa and Ben had accepted him without question, for which he was exceedingly grateful, and Lisa had found him a place in the neighborhood almost right away. He's in a duplex two blocks from Dean, shared with his elderly landlord on the other side.
She's tiny, sweet, and apparently hard of hearing, but that doesn't stop her from throwing Sam and Cas indulgent winks whenever she sees them together. He takes a lot of comfort in the knowledge that if she usually doesn't catch his "Good morning, Mrs. Rogers," then she probably can't hear him and Cas through the walls at night. He fervently hopes not, anyway.
With that thought comes the flutter of wings, and he smiles before pulling another beer out of the cooler at his feet. Cas settles next to him and takes it with a quiet thanks.
"How was your day?" Sam asks, aware of how bizarrely domestic their situation is and finding it impossible to care even a little bit.
"It was okay," Cas tells him, and then sighs dramatically. "Balthazar was complaining about the cherubim; it seems they're being overly affectionate whenever he visits them to deliver orders."
"So nothing new, then," Sam chuckles. Cas nods in agreement before smiling softly.
"I'm glad to be home," he murmurs, and then turns to catch Sam's mouth with his own. They kiss for a long moment, lazy and comfortable, before reluctantly pulling apart.
"Me too, Cas," Sam grins. "Me too."