FIC: Human Emotion 1/5
Title: Human Emotion
Author: Miss 'Drea
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Castiel, Sam/Castiel/Dean
Rating: NC17
Word count: 14,400~
Artist who did your art: freetodream5
Warnings/Kinks: Threesome, body fetish (ears), body fetish (back), wing kink (sort of), massages, coming without being touched, incest (of the Win variety), biting
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Thanks to my amazing beta mistyzeo who ventured out of her comfort zone for me. I love you and you're amazing. Also thanks to rayn_firehawk for the outrage on Castiel's behalf, Boyfriend, for reading my gay porn because that's just made of win,blackcathollow for being the first person to want to read this monstrosity andthebunnybag for pointing out my smut inconsistencies.
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue |
*
Part One
The silence was heavy in the too-small motel room. Dean was cleaning his guns on the bed he’d claimed, ignoring the other two people in the room. Sam was clicking away on his lap top, studiously taking notes in the yellow legal pad he had balanced precariously on one knee. Castiel was watching them both through narrowed eyes.
“You two are disappointed,” he said, unnecessarily loud in the quiet space.
Sam looked up, startled, but not disagreeing. Dean didn’t stop what he was doing, but he grunted. Castiel couldn’t decipher the emotion behind it. That was often case, but it seemed particularly difficult in that moment.
“Not with you,” Sam finally said faintly. “If God doesn’t want to be found, then there is nothing we can do.”
It was a cold comfort but Castiel took it willingly.
“I will never drink again,” he vowed honestly. He’d spent enough time with the Winchesters that he was slowly picking up their human traits; but lying wasn’t one of them. Would probably never be one of them. “I don’t like the headache.”
Sam and Dean exchanged a look before they both began laughing. The Angel gave them a perplexed look. “We’ll get you some aspirin,” Sam said, still chuckling. “It should help.”
Touching his forehead with two fingers, Castiel probed the tight skin at his temple. “Pain is a human condition,” he murmured mostly to himself.
“Welcome to our world,” Sam said dryly, sharing another look with his brother.
Castiel settled back in the chair he was sitting in. He still had trouble leaning his back against anything.
Conceptually he knew his wings were immaterial in his human host, but not feeling them against his skin was hard to bear. Even so, as he rested, he inwardly winced as the rough cotton of the dress shirt he wore ground against the smooth skin of his back. That, more than anything else, was convincing him of his humanity. If he was honest with himself-and he was- then the strange feelings he found crashing over him on a daily basis were terrifying. They frightened him like nothing else ever had, not even their inability to find God. Everything ached: humanity was heavy on his shoulders, dragging down his once pristine wings. His joints were swollen, sore from use, everything was wrong. He defected, and he was being slowly thrown out of Heaven for his troubles.
And his loyalty.
“Cas ” The tone told him that Dean had been trying to get his attention for a while and was slowly losing his already-small patience. Castiel looked up, focusing tired eyes on Dean. Whatever Dean was going to say died in his mouth and concern replaced irritation. “Are you all right?” he asked instead, and Castiel felt warmth well up in his stomach at it.
“My head hurts,” he said shortly, because telling him the real reason why he looked the way he did would take more time then they could afford. Dean was already dancing on the edge of reason, knowing that Cas’ loyalty to him rather than to God was causing the Angel such pain might throw him over the wrong side. It wasn’t really a lie anyway, his head did hurt.
Deception is a human construction.
Vaguely Castiel could remember a phrase that Lucifer had once said before he’d fallen, ‘a lie of omission is still a lie.’ Semantics made his headache worse.
“I’ll get that aspirin,” Dean said after a minute. Sam nodded, and got up too, going into the adjoining bathroom. As Dean was searching in his bedspread for the keys to the Impala, Sam returned with a glass of mostly cold water, giving it to the Angel and taking a seat beside him.
“Drink that, it might help,” he said softly, keeping his voice low enough that while Castiel didn’t have to strain to hear, it was below the register of the stabbing pain at his temples. “Keeping you hydrated will make the headache hurt less.”
Trusting Sam, Cas drank the glass in one long sip, tilting his head back to avoid spilling. He didn’t notice the way Sam’s eyes followed the motion as he drank; the way he swallowed in tandem.
The headache however, did diminish ever so slightly and at a loss, Castiel handed back the glass. “Thank you,” he said as an afterthought.
“More?” Sam offered, half standing, half sitting. Dean jerked his head at the door and his brother waved at him with a distracted hand. Cas shook his head. “Get comfortable,” he said as Dean left. “Lay down for a while.”
“Angel’s don’t need sleep,” Castiel protested, but allowed Sam to take off the tan trench coat and red tie. Manhandling the Angel towards the bed was surprisingly easy, Cas didn’t even try to fend off Sam’s movements. “Sam, I’m fine,” he insisted but the youngest Winchester ignored him. It was like, Cas realized, he had told Anna: Sam was his friend. This was what friends did.
They took care of each other.
Castiel stopped even the half-hearted protests and allowed Sam to lead him to the bed. “Take your shoes off and get comfortable,” Sam said, and Castiel did as he bid after a moment. Sam disappeared back into the bathroom and Cas could vaguely hear water running before he came out again. Instead of a glass of water, Sam returned with a wet face-cloth. It wasn’t dripping but there was still water running down the slope of his wrist. “Here,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
“You really don’t have to do this,” Cas murmured, closing his aching eyes. “I’ll be fine. I’m an Angel of the Lord.”
Sam chuckled and the huff of air danced across Castiel’s cheek. “This will help,” Sam insisted. The cold compress went over his eyes, and the chill sank into his skin almost immediately. The dry, gritty ache was soothed, and he sank into the bed with a long, slow sigh. “Get some rest,” Sam murmured near his ear, but Castiel didn’t respond. It was too much effort. Sloth is a human - he cut the thought off and ruthlessly turned his brain off. He was done.
*
When Dean got to the ExtraMart that was about a mile away from their motel, he sat in his car for a long moment, Metallica playing quietly in the background. It had been hard to hear that his amulet was useless - even worse to realize he truly was a servant of God. And to see Castiel so broken... it was another weight to carry. Another reason to tip the scale in Michael’s favor.
He finally got out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than strictly necessary. The girl behind the counter of the ExtraMart was pretty in a simple way:; her brown hair was long and straight and her smile was sweet. “Anything I can help you with?” she asked brightly. “Just give me something to do.”
“Do you carry aspirin?”
There must have been something in his voice because her face, which had been teasing, softened entirely into concern and she pointed around the edge of her counter. “Just there.” Dean followed her finger and selected a bottle of aspirin that was relatively cheap. He had to go to a bar soon and hustle up some cash, otherwise they might run out, with three people to feed now that Castiel seemed to be eating some.
“Is everything okay?” the girl asked cautiously.
Dean looked up and realized he’d been lost in thought, staring down at the bottle he was holding. “Yeah,” he said lightly. “Just a lot on my mind.” Even to his own ears, the lie sounded lame. He was usually much better at this than he had been in the past few days. The girl seemed to know it too. “Thanks,” he murmured. “It's just been a long... well, year.” He offered her a somewhat genuine smile. “Thanks for asking though.” He left her the change and left.
Castiel was waiting.
*
Castiel didn’t snore, but it was almost like his human body couldn’t get enough oxygen, his breaths were so deep. Sam kept up the illusion that he was researching...something...but he was keeping a close eye on the sleeping Angel. If he even was an Angel anymore.
There wasn’t anything he could do about finding God, if a deity didn’t want to be found then Sam logically knew there was nothing to be done. Castiel breathed in especially deeply and Sam’s eyes shot to him. The Angel’s eyes opened and he groaned, flinging one arm over his face.
Mentally Sam smacked himself in the forehead. He certainly wasn’t above noticing Castiel’s physical charms, but he was fairly certain that lusting over an Angel of the Lord was a sin. In his line of work, it paid to read the Bible.
Castiel took that moment to groan again, rubbing both his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I,” he said definitively, his voice husky, “am never drinking again.”
Sam chuckled. “You said that already. Dean should be back soon with some aspirin.”
Castiel nodded, then with a bitter twist of his mouth, looked like he regretted the motion. “People do this for fun?” he asked, hoping that breathing very deeply would settle the rolling in his stomach.
“Well,” Sam said diplomatically, “people don’t generally drink entire liquor stores.”
“I’m not likely to do it again.” Cas groaned for a third time and Sam recognized the sound. He was just in time with getting the waste basket to Cas before the contents of his belly hit the floor. He retched for an obscenely long time before he finally stopped. Sam immediately removed the bin before the smell could pervade the room and possibly cause a relapse. “How do you feel now?” Sam asked quietly.
“Like I have vomit up my nose,” Cas answered meditatively. Sam recoiled by habit, making a disgusted face. Seeing the expression, Cas winced. “Sorry.”
“Into the shower with you,” Sam said decisively. “That will help.” When Cas showed no signs of moving, Sam ventured, “...do you need some help?”
“I keep telling my arms to move but they’re not listening.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Sam reached for the buttons on the white shirt Castiel was still wearing, but hesitating on the top one. Castiel nodded once and let his eyes slide shut. Sam made quick work of the shirt, pulling the Angel up and helping him shrug out of it.
There were black slashes, like ink, scored across his shoulders. Wing marks, Sam realized with a shock. He brushed his fingers over the left one, ever so gently and Castiel’s body seized and shivered. The Angel’s head dropped down onto Sam’s shoulder with a muffled groan.
The noise startled Sam, but Cas hadn’t sounded like he was in pain. He sounded... aroused. “S-Sorry,” Castiel murmured, his voice choked. “I’m still not used to not having them.” And maybe a little embarrassed.
“Let’s get you into the shower,” Sam said softly.
With a shuddering breath, Castiel shook his head against the warmth of Sam’s neck. “Moving hurts,” he murmured.
“Here, I’ll help.” Sam lifted Castiel’s arms and looped his arms around his neck. “Come on, stand with me.” Castiel clung, moaning sharply at the suddenly vertical position. “You gonna hurl again?”
He could feel Cas’ frown against his shoulder. “Hurl?” he asked, still managing to sound confused even through the ill.
“Throw up,” Sam clarified, holding them still. “Because if you are, I’m letting you fall.”
He could feel the smile too. “Not going to...... hurl. Just hold on.” Castiel tightened his grip. “The room is moving.”
“No, Cas. That’s your head.” Sam waited for a long few minutes before he tried again. “Okay. Ready to try again?” Cas nodded. They managed a shuffling walk to the bathroom. Once Castiel was settled on the closed toilet seat, Sam turned to him. “How do you like your shower?”
His head hanging, Castiel still managed a small smile. “Never had one.”
Sam chuckled. “Sorry. Hot, warm, lukewarm, or cold.”
There was a long pause. “Thinking hurts,” the Angel said wonderingly. “Actually. Everything hurts.”
“Sorry,” Sam said, grinning. “We’ll go with lukewarm.” Sam reached around Cas to turn on the water. “Can you get your pants?”
Sam firmly turned around to adjust the temperature while Cas fumbled with his slacks. “I am sorry, Sam.”
His head was still in the shower; making sure it wasn’t too hot or cold. “What are you sorry for?” Sam asked, neatly avoiding the spray. “Don’t you apologize. It’s fine.” He turned back around to see Castiel sitting there naked. “Whoa.”
“Does my nudity bother you, Sam?” Castiel asked, his voice confused.
“Uh, n-no. Here, get in.” He offered his hand to the fallen Angel who immediately took it.
Only then Castiel stumbled against him, pressing a very male part of his anatomy against Sam’s hip. Sam closed his eyes. Lusting after an Angel of the Lord was just as much of a sin as it was an hour before. “I’d apologize but you told me not to.”
“Into the shower, Cas.” Sam went to leave the minute the Angel was settled but Cas
stumbled. Closing his eyes again, Sam leaned his forehead on the door jamb. “Do you want me to stay?” he offered, hoping the sound of the water would drown out the noise of his banging forehead.
“No,” was the muffled reply. “The concept of modern technology is confusing but manageable.”
Thanking every God known to man, Sam said, “okay. Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be...” in my bunk... “out there.”
There was no verbal response but another heartfelt moan.
Not a pained moan, either.
By the time Dean got back, Sam’s dick was a hard ridge in his jeans. “Where’s Cas?”Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, shower.”
Dean frowned. “Shower?”
“Yeah. Uh, he threw up earlier, so he’s...” Sam twisted his lips in a parody of a smile. “He’s not...”
His brother held up a hand. “Yeah. I get it.”
Cas chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. In a towel. Only a towel.
Both Sam and Dean averted their eyes. It was fine when it was them; but when it was an Angel...
Especially an Angel Sam was currently lusting after.
His dick which hadn’t sat back down yet, stood up a little more and Sam winced. He covered his face with one hand. “Cas. Your clothes. Where are they?”
“They are dirty.” Castiel blinked. “It seemed ridiculous to spend ten minutes getting clean only to put on previously dirty clothing. Or am I wrong?”
“We’ll... find you other clothes,” Sam said tiredly.
Cas nodded. “Thank you, Sam. You were right, the shower made me feel much better.”
Dean took that moment to toss Cas the aspirin. “Think fast.”
The Angel missed. By a long shot. “I cannot think fast and hold the towel, Dean.”
There was no way Sam could stand up. None at all. “Uh, I think Dean’s jeans will fit you but not his shirts. My shirts would be okay, I think.”
“I do not mean to put you out of clothes.”
Feeling pained, Sam shrugged. “It’s fine. We can get you a few sets of your own.”
There was an expression on Castiel’s face. It had to be...... the first time he’d ever seen the Angel look bashful. “You don’t... it isn’t necessary.”
Dean crossed his arms. “Aren’t you staying?”
The bewildered look deepened. “You... want me to?”
The brothers exchanged a look. “Of course we do,” Sam said.
“We wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” Dean grunted.
His erection had waned during Castiel’s bout of insecurity so Sam stood. “Let’s get you some clothes.” He smiled a little, looking his eyes some point by Cas’ shoulder. “You must be cold.”
“I’m an Angel of the Lord. I don’t get cold.”
Pride is a human condition.
He was cold. Freezing even. He was still damp from the shower and it was humid enough that Dean had the AC on. Castiel suppressed a shiver. Then a shirt hit him in the face. “Try that on. You’ll have to do without underwear until we can get you some,” Sam said, handing him jeans. “Go change.”
*
The bathroom was blessedly still warm and Castiel changed hurriedly. There was so much that was new to him. Temperature, sensation - Sam’s hands on the remainder of his wings - hunger. More than one kind.
Lust is a loved human emotion.
Castiel leaned his forehead on the mirror. This was getting complicated.
Very complicated.
*
Dean left to get Castiel some clothes, armed with the sizes from his filthy set. Sam had offered, practically begged, but Dean had insisted. “I need to put my head on straight, man,” he’d said. Things had been strange and were progressively getting stranger.
Cas had yet to come out of the bathroom. “Uh, hey Cas?” Sam called. There was a muffled response. “Did you fall in? Or something?”
The door opened. “No. I’m sorry. I was... thinking.”
Sam grinned, seeing the uncomfortable look on Castiel’s face. “About falling in?” The grin widened when Castiel gave him a flat look. It was more expression than Sam had ever seen on the Angel’s face. “Are you all right? Feeling okay?”
“The pills helped.” He loitered in the door way. “Where’s Dean? Again.”
“Getting you clothes.”
Castiel hesitantly walked over to the table that Sam sat at. “You two are doing too much for me.”
“Oh no, Cas...” Sam itched to run his fingers down Castiel’s shoulders until he twitched.
He was out of the chair and around the table before he could stop himself.
“Is everything...?” Castiel began to ask but whatever he was seeing on his face made the words die before they began to live. “Sam? I’m...” he changed tactics again. “You must be very angry with me.”
It was enough to stop Sam. “Huh?”
“After I pulled Dean from Hell I did not do much more than attempt to convince him you were going to be evil and that you deserved to be killed.” Castiel averted his eyes and looked down. “And now you… take care of me. Like I wasn’t as evil as the demons to you.”
“Shut up, Cas,” Sam murmured and dropped his hand down on his back. “You’ve more than made up for it now.” With that, he brushed his fingertips against the wing marks. Castiel moaned low in his throat and arched his back against Sam’s hand. His own hands clenched where they rested on the table.
“Sam ” he gasped.
Sam didn’t reply and brushed his fingers a little more firmly. Castiel’s breathing hitched and he arched like a cat, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Sam lightened his touch again and the Angel squirmed in the seat, his eyes falling closed. “Do you miss your wings?” Sam asked contemplatively, as he rubbed small concentric circles around the area they should have been.
“More than anything,” Castiel whispered. “I know they are there, but in this Vessel they are the only symbols of my Divinity.”
He sounded so upset that Sam paused, his fingers hovering over Castiel’s back. “Do you want me to stop touching them?”
Castiel breathed out sharply. “Oh God no,” he breathed. “Don’t. It’s...... the only good reminder of their absence I’ve had.” Hesitantly Sam began again, trying to lower the sexual tone he’d began, giving the pained Angel a much more clinical back massage. Castiel hummed and dropped his head, allowing Sam access to the back of his neck.
“Where did you learn this?” he asked, muffled.
“College. It came in handy.” Sam had taken a physical education course at Stanford, it turned out to be fun and helpful. Jess used to get migraines and the massages would make her feel better. As Sam hunted out the pressure points in Castiel’s neck, the Angel slid forward to rest his head on his arms.
“I can see that.”
The Angel had tension knots like Sam couldn’t believe. Maybe the weight of wings he could no longer see or feel.
Sam worked his way down Cas’ back, manfully ignoring the low ‘ah-ah-ah’s’ he got when he dug his thumbs into the Angel’s wing Marks. He’d gotten most of the way down Castiel’s lower back when Cas shifted very slightly. Sam thought at first he was trying to get more comfortable, so he pressed harder only to have Cas shift again.
Sam looked down and noticed with a shock that Cas was...... hard. Bulging against his jeans, shifting uncomfortably, hard. He worried at his bottom lip, before he trailed his fingers lightly over the wing marks.
The noise Castiel made blew all other previous groans out of the water. He shifted again, spreading his legs wider. Sam did again, scraping the backs of his nails across the edge of his shoulder blades.
Cas said something in a guttural language, deep and warm at the back of his throat. Sam paused again, fingers resting over where he knew the marks were. “What was that, Cas?”
His head didn’t move but Sam could see the tips of the Angel’s ears turn red. “Enochian.”
Sam considered that for a moment before continuing to press his fingers into his back. “Oh. What did it mean?”
That made Castiel blush harder. “Nothing I can repeat in respectable company.” He was almost constantly twitching with the effort to not move and Sam felt pleased.
“Um, I’m not respectable company, Cas,” he said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry about offending me.”
Castiel’s breathing was getting erratic, and Sam lightened up his touch. “You’re not hurting me,” he said hesitantly. “It was not an expression of pain.”
“So I’m not... I wasn’t sure,” Sam lied with a small smile. “Okay then.” He scraped his nails again, only harder and straight down. Jess had liked it.
With a gasp, Castiel’s spine went ramrod straight and the oddly arousing guttural language exploded from him. Sam blinked. “That sounded like pain Cas,” he said, for the first time uncertain in his seduction plan. He took in the flushed and panting Vessel of an Angel of the Lord. His legs were wide, his hands clenching on his thighs, a damp spot on the crotch
of the jeans he was wearing.
“It. Wasn’t.” Through the grating tone of the aroused, Sam could also hear desperation and confusion.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked cautiously.
“No.”
That was definitive. Sam placed his palms on Cas’ back. His entire body shuddered and Sam stroked the warmth of his hands across the area he’d just abused. The Angel’s entire body undulated against him.
He began drawing designs across the nearly visible marks. And they were, raised against the fabric of the t-shirt. He traced them, and Castiel writhed in the seat, spreading his legs wider, shifting his hips against the air. His hands clung to the edge of the table and when Sam peeked a look at his face, the Angel’s eyes were half closed and his face flushed. “Sam I don’t understand ” He was panting, unable to focus. “I am... I have never felt this way before.” Sam paused again and Castiel dropped his head back and forced his eyes open. “Help me, Sam.”
Swallowing to wet a suddenly dry throat, Sam pressed the fingers of one hand to the Angel Marks. Castiel’s hips rolled on a low moan and Sam dropped his free hand on the almost painful looking bulge he found there.
Castiel froze for a second then the youngest Winchester squeezed. With a tortured shout that was more like a scream, the other man came, soaking his pants and writhing in the seat, gasping out something Sam couldn’t understand. Sam let him ride it out, palming his covered dick until Cas had stopped twitching. He withdrew completely, giving the Marks one last swipe.
The Angel shivered. “I have never felt that way before.” His voice was rough, and he twisted in the chair to look at Sam. “Why...?”
“Uh.” Sam backed away a little hastily and sat on his bed, his cock throbbing. “I should think it was obvious Cas.”
Though he was shaking, Castiel rose out of the chair. He stepped carefully up to Sam, sliding into the space between his legs. “Perhaps it was,” he murmured. “And I believe this,” he leaned down and with gentle fingers, tilted Sam’s chin up and kissed him lightly on the mouth, “is customary as a thank you.”
His hands were still on Sam’s face so Sam pulled him down for another kiss, this one deeper, slanting his mouth over the Angels. When Cas broke for air; he murmured, “why did you not tell me?”
“Because I...”
Dean opened the door and with a sound that reminded Sam of wings, Cas had vanished into the bathroom and left Sam alone.
*
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue |
Author: Miss 'Drea
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean, Sam/Castiel, Sam/Castiel/Dean
Rating: NC17
Word count: 14,400~
Artist who did your art: freetodream5
Warnings/Kinks: Threesome, body fetish (ears), body fetish (back), wing kink (sort of), massages, coming without being touched, incest (of the Win variety), biting
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
A/N: Thanks to my amazing beta mistyzeo who ventured out of her comfort zone for me. I love you and you're amazing. Also thanks to rayn_firehawk for the outrage on Castiel's behalf, Boyfriend, for reading my gay porn because that's just made of win,blackcathollow for being the first person to want to read this monstrosity andthebunnybag for pointing out my smut inconsistencies.
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue |
*
Part One
The silence was heavy in the too-small motel room. Dean was cleaning his guns on the bed he’d claimed, ignoring the other two people in the room. Sam was clicking away on his lap top, studiously taking notes in the yellow legal pad he had balanced precariously on one knee. Castiel was watching them both through narrowed eyes.
“You two are disappointed,” he said, unnecessarily loud in the quiet space.
Sam looked up, startled, but not disagreeing. Dean didn’t stop what he was doing, but he grunted. Castiel couldn’t decipher the emotion behind it. That was often case, but it seemed particularly difficult in that moment.
“Not with you,” Sam finally said faintly. “If God doesn’t want to be found, then there is nothing we can do.”
It was a cold comfort but Castiel took it willingly.
“I will never drink again,” he vowed honestly. He’d spent enough time with the Winchesters that he was slowly picking up their human traits; but lying wasn’t one of them. Would probably never be one of them. “I don’t like the headache.”
Sam and Dean exchanged a look before they both began laughing. The Angel gave them a perplexed look. “We’ll get you some aspirin,” Sam said, still chuckling. “It should help.”
Touching his forehead with two fingers, Castiel probed the tight skin at his temple. “Pain is a human condition,” he murmured mostly to himself.
“Welcome to our world,” Sam said dryly, sharing another look with his brother.
Castiel settled back in the chair he was sitting in. He still had trouble leaning his back against anything.
Conceptually he knew his wings were immaterial in his human host, but not feeling them against his skin was hard to bear. Even so, as he rested, he inwardly winced as the rough cotton of the dress shirt he wore ground against the smooth skin of his back. That, more than anything else, was convincing him of his humanity. If he was honest with himself-and he was- then the strange feelings he found crashing over him on a daily basis were terrifying. They frightened him like nothing else ever had, not even their inability to find God. Everything ached: humanity was heavy on his shoulders, dragging down his once pristine wings. His joints were swollen, sore from use, everything was wrong. He defected, and he was being slowly thrown out of Heaven for his troubles.
And his loyalty.
“Cas ” The tone told him that Dean had been trying to get his attention for a while and was slowly losing his already-small patience. Castiel looked up, focusing tired eyes on Dean. Whatever Dean was going to say died in his mouth and concern replaced irritation. “Are you all right?” he asked instead, and Castiel felt warmth well up in his stomach at it.
“My head hurts,” he said shortly, because telling him the real reason why he looked the way he did would take more time then they could afford. Dean was already dancing on the edge of reason, knowing that Cas’ loyalty to him rather than to God was causing the Angel such pain might throw him over the wrong side. It wasn’t really a lie anyway, his head did hurt.
Deception is a human construction.
Vaguely Castiel could remember a phrase that Lucifer had once said before he’d fallen, ‘a lie of omission is still a lie.’ Semantics made his headache worse.
“I’ll get that aspirin,” Dean said after a minute. Sam nodded, and got up too, going into the adjoining bathroom. As Dean was searching in his bedspread for the keys to the Impala, Sam returned with a glass of mostly cold water, giving it to the Angel and taking a seat beside him.
“Drink that, it might help,” he said softly, keeping his voice low enough that while Castiel didn’t have to strain to hear, it was below the register of the stabbing pain at his temples. “Keeping you hydrated will make the headache hurt less.”
Trusting Sam, Cas drank the glass in one long sip, tilting his head back to avoid spilling. He didn’t notice the way Sam’s eyes followed the motion as he drank; the way he swallowed in tandem.
The headache however, did diminish ever so slightly and at a loss, Castiel handed back the glass. “Thank you,” he said as an afterthought.
“More?” Sam offered, half standing, half sitting. Dean jerked his head at the door and his brother waved at him with a distracted hand. Cas shook his head. “Get comfortable,” he said as Dean left. “Lay down for a while.”
“Angel’s don’t need sleep,” Castiel protested, but allowed Sam to take off the tan trench coat and red tie. Manhandling the Angel towards the bed was surprisingly easy, Cas didn’t even try to fend off Sam’s movements. “Sam, I’m fine,” he insisted but the youngest Winchester ignored him. It was like, Cas realized, he had told Anna: Sam was his friend. This was what friends did.
They took care of each other.
Castiel stopped even the half-hearted protests and allowed Sam to lead him to the bed. “Take your shoes off and get comfortable,” Sam said, and Castiel did as he bid after a moment. Sam disappeared back into the bathroom and Cas could vaguely hear water running before he came out again. Instead of a glass of water, Sam returned with a wet face-cloth. It wasn’t dripping but there was still water running down the slope of his wrist. “Here,” he said. “Close your eyes.”
“You really don’t have to do this,” Cas murmured, closing his aching eyes. “I’ll be fine. I’m an Angel of the Lord.”
Sam chuckled and the huff of air danced across Castiel’s cheek. “This will help,” Sam insisted. The cold compress went over his eyes, and the chill sank into his skin almost immediately. The dry, gritty ache was soothed, and he sank into the bed with a long, slow sigh. “Get some rest,” Sam murmured near his ear, but Castiel didn’t respond. It was too much effort. Sloth is a human - he cut the thought off and ruthlessly turned his brain off. He was done.
*
When Dean got to the ExtraMart that was about a mile away from their motel, he sat in his car for a long moment, Metallica playing quietly in the background. It had been hard to hear that his amulet was useless - even worse to realize he truly was a servant of God. And to see Castiel so broken... it was another weight to carry. Another reason to tip the scale in Michael’s favor.
He finally got out of the car, slamming the door a little harder than strictly necessary. The girl behind the counter of the ExtraMart was pretty in a simple way:; her brown hair was long and straight and her smile was sweet. “Anything I can help you with?” she asked brightly. “Just give me something to do.”
“Do you carry aspirin?”
There must have been something in his voice because her face, which had been teasing, softened entirely into concern and she pointed around the edge of her counter. “Just there.” Dean followed her finger and selected a bottle of aspirin that was relatively cheap. He had to go to a bar soon and hustle up some cash, otherwise they might run out, with three people to feed now that Castiel seemed to be eating some.
“Is everything okay?” the girl asked cautiously.
Dean looked up and realized he’d been lost in thought, staring down at the bottle he was holding. “Yeah,” he said lightly. “Just a lot on my mind.” Even to his own ears, the lie sounded lame. He was usually much better at this than he had been in the past few days. The girl seemed to know it too. “Thanks,” he murmured. “It's just been a long... well, year.” He offered her a somewhat genuine smile. “Thanks for asking though.” He left her the change and left.
Castiel was waiting.
*
Castiel didn’t snore, but it was almost like his human body couldn’t get enough oxygen, his breaths were so deep. Sam kept up the illusion that he was researching...something...but he was keeping a close eye on the sleeping Angel. If he even was an Angel anymore.
There wasn’t anything he could do about finding God, if a deity didn’t want to be found then Sam logically knew there was nothing to be done. Castiel breathed in especially deeply and Sam’s eyes shot to him. The Angel’s eyes opened and he groaned, flinging one arm over his face.
Mentally Sam smacked himself in the forehead. He certainly wasn’t above noticing Castiel’s physical charms, but he was fairly certain that lusting over an Angel of the Lord was a sin. In his line of work, it paid to read the Bible.
Castiel took that moment to groan again, rubbing both his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I,” he said definitively, his voice husky, “am never drinking again.”
Sam chuckled. “You said that already. Dean should be back soon with some aspirin.”
Castiel nodded, then with a bitter twist of his mouth, looked like he regretted the motion. “People do this for fun?” he asked, hoping that breathing very deeply would settle the rolling in his stomach.
“Well,” Sam said diplomatically, “people don’t generally drink entire liquor stores.”
“I’m not likely to do it again.” Cas groaned for a third time and Sam recognized the sound. He was just in time with getting the waste basket to Cas before the contents of his belly hit the floor. He retched for an obscenely long time before he finally stopped. Sam immediately removed the bin before the smell could pervade the room and possibly cause a relapse. “How do you feel now?” Sam asked quietly.
“Like I have vomit up my nose,” Cas answered meditatively. Sam recoiled by habit, making a disgusted face. Seeing the expression, Cas winced. “Sorry.”
“Into the shower with you,” Sam said decisively. “That will help.” When Cas showed no signs of moving, Sam ventured, “...do you need some help?”
“I keep telling my arms to move but they’re not listening.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Sam reached for the buttons on the white shirt Castiel was still wearing, but hesitating on the top one. Castiel nodded once and let his eyes slide shut. Sam made quick work of the shirt, pulling the Angel up and helping him shrug out of it.
There were black slashes, like ink, scored across his shoulders. Wing marks, Sam realized with a shock. He brushed his fingers over the left one, ever so gently and Castiel’s body seized and shivered. The Angel’s head dropped down onto Sam’s shoulder with a muffled groan.
The noise startled Sam, but Cas hadn’t sounded like he was in pain. He sounded... aroused. “S-Sorry,” Castiel murmured, his voice choked. “I’m still not used to not having them.” And maybe a little embarrassed.
“Let’s get you into the shower,” Sam said softly.
With a shuddering breath, Castiel shook his head against the warmth of Sam’s neck. “Moving hurts,” he murmured.
“Here, I’ll help.” Sam lifted Castiel’s arms and looped his arms around his neck. “Come on, stand with me.” Castiel clung, moaning sharply at the suddenly vertical position. “You gonna hurl again?”
He could feel Cas’ frown against his shoulder. “Hurl?” he asked, still managing to sound confused even through the ill.
“Throw up,” Sam clarified, holding them still. “Because if you are, I’m letting you fall.”
He could feel the smile too. “Not going to...... hurl. Just hold on.” Castiel tightened his grip. “The room is moving.”
“No, Cas. That’s your head.” Sam waited for a long few minutes before he tried again. “Okay. Ready to try again?” Cas nodded. They managed a shuffling walk to the bathroom. Once Castiel was settled on the closed toilet seat, Sam turned to him. “How do you like your shower?”
His head hanging, Castiel still managed a small smile. “Never had one.”
Sam chuckled. “Sorry. Hot, warm, lukewarm, or cold.”
There was a long pause. “Thinking hurts,” the Angel said wonderingly. “Actually. Everything hurts.”
“Sorry,” Sam said, grinning. “We’ll go with lukewarm.” Sam reached around Cas to turn on the water. “Can you get your pants?”
Sam firmly turned around to adjust the temperature while Cas fumbled with his slacks. “I am sorry, Sam.”
His head was still in the shower; making sure it wasn’t too hot or cold. “What are you sorry for?” Sam asked, neatly avoiding the spray. “Don’t you apologize. It’s fine.” He turned back around to see Castiel sitting there naked. “Whoa.”
“Does my nudity bother you, Sam?” Castiel asked, his voice confused.
“Uh, n-no. Here, get in.” He offered his hand to the fallen Angel who immediately took it.
Only then Castiel stumbled against him, pressing a very male part of his anatomy against Sam’s hip. Sam closed his eyes. Lusting after an Angel of the Lord was just as much of a sin as it was an hour before. “I’d apologize but you told me not to.”
“Into the shower, Cas.” Sam went to leave the minute the Angel was settled but Cas
stumbled. Closing his eyes again, Sam leaned his forehead on the door jamb. “Do you want me to stay?” he offered, hoping the sound of the water would drown out the noise of his banging forehead.
“No,” was the muffled reply. “The concept of modern technology is confusing but manageable.”
Thanking every God known to man, Sam said, “okay. Let me know when you’re done. I’ll be...” in my bunk... “out there.”
There was no verbal response but another heartfelt moan.
Not a pained moan, either.
By the time Dean got back, Sam’s dick was a hard ridge in his jeans. “Where’s Cas?”Sam cleared his throat. “Uh, shower.”
Dean frowned. “Shower?”
“Yeah. Uh, he threw up earlier, so he’s...” Sam twisted his lips in a parody of a smile. “He’s not...”
His brother held up a hand. “Yeah. I get it.”
Cas chose that moment to come out of the bathroom. In a towel. Only a towel.
Both Sam and Dean averted their eyes. It was fine when it was them; but when it was an Angel...
Especially an Angel Sam was currently lusting after.
His dick which hadn’t sat back down yet, stood up a little more and Sam winced. He covered his face with one hand. “Cas. Your clothes. Where are they?”
“They are dirty.” Castiel blinked. “It seemed ridiculous to spend ten minutes getting clean only to put on previously dirty clothing. Or am I wrong?”
“We’ll... find you other clothes,” Sam said tiredly.
Cas nodded. “Thank you, Sam. You were right, the shower made me feel much better.”
Dean took that moment to toss Cas the aspirin. “Think fast.”
The Angel missed. By a long shot. “I cannot think fast and hold the towel, Dean.”
There was no way Sam could stand up. None at all. “Uh, I think Dean’s jeans will fit you but not his shirts. My shirts would be okay, I think.”
“I do not mean to put you out of clothes.”
Feeling pained, Sam shrugged. “It’s fine. We can get you a few sets of your own.”
There was an expression on Castiel’s face. It had to be...... the first time he’d ever seen the Angel look bashful. “You don’t... it isn’t necessary.”
Dean crossed his arms. “Aren’t you staying?”
The bewildered look deepened. “You... want me to?”
The brothers exchanged a look. “Of course we do,” Sam said.
“We wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” Dean grunted.
His erection had waned during Castiel’s bout of insecurity so Sam stood. “Let’s get you some clothes.” He smiled a little, looking his eyes some point by Cas’ shoulder. “You must be cold.”
“I’m an Angel of the Lord. I don’t get cold.”
Pride is a human condition.
He was cold. Freezing even. He was still damp from the shower and it was humid enough that Dean had the AC on. Castiel suppressed a shiver. Then a shirt hit him in the face. “Try that on. You’ll have to do without underwear until we can get you some,” Sam said, handing him jeans. “Go change.”
*
The bathroom was blessedly still warm and Castiel changed hurriedly. There was so much that was new to him. Temperature, sensation - Sam’s hands on the remainder of his wings - hunger. More than one kind.
Lust is a loved human emotion.
Castiel leaned his forehead on the mirror. This was getting complicated.
Very complicated.
*
Dean left to get Castiel some clothes, armed with the sizes from his filthy set. Sam had offered, practically begged, but Dean had insisted. “I need to put my head on straight, man,” he’d said. Things had been strange and were progressively getting stranger.
Cas had yet to come out of the bathroom. “Uh, hey Cas?” Sam called. There was a muffled response. “Did you fall in? Or something?”
The door opened. “No. I’m sorry. I was... thinking.”
Sam grinned, seeing the uncomfortable look on Castiel’s face. “About falling in?” The grin widened when Castiel gave him a flat look. It was more expression than Sam had ever seen on the Angel’s face. “Are you all right? Feeling okay?”
“The pills helped.” He loitered in the door way. “Where’s Dean? Again.”
“Getting you clothes.”
Castiel hesitantly walked over to the table that Sam sat at. “You two are doing too much for me.”
“Oh no, Cas...” Sam itched to run his fingers down Castiel’s shoulders until he twitched.
He was out of the chair and around the table before he could stop himself.
“Is everything...?” Castiel began to ask but whatever he was seeing on his face made the words die before they began to live. “Sam? I’m...” he changed tactics again. “You must be very angry with me.”
It was enough to stop Sam. “Huh?”
“After I pulled Dean from Hell I did not do much more than attempt to convince him you were going to be evil and that you deserved to be killed.” Castiel averted his eyes and looked down. “And now you… take care of me. Like I wasn’t as evil as the demons to you.”
“Shut up, Cas,” Sam murmured and dropped his hand down on his back. “You’ve more than made up for it now.” With that, he brushed his fingertips against the wing marks. Castiel moaned low in his throat and arched his back against Sam’s hand. His own hands clenched where they rested on the table.
“Sam ” he gasped.
Sam didn’t reply and brushed his fingers a little more firmly. Castiel’s breathing hitched and he arched like a cat, his teeth digging into his lower lip. Sam lightened his touch again and the Angel squirmed in the seat, his eyes falling closed. “Do you miss your wings?” Sam asked contemplatively, as he rubbed small concentric circles around the area they should have been.
“More than anything,” Castiel whispered. “I know they are there, but in this Vessel they are the only symbols of my Divinity.”
He sounded so upset that Sam paused, his fingers hovering over Castiel’s back. “Do you want me to stop touching them?”
Castiel breathed out sharply. “Oh God no,” he breathed. “Don’t. It’s...... the only good reminder of their absence I’ve had.” Hesitantly Sam began again, trying to lower the sexual tone he’d began, giving the pained Angel a much more clinical back massage. Castiel hummed and dropped his head, allowing Sam access to the back of his neck.
“Where did you learn this?” he asked, muffled.
“College. It came in handy.” Sam had taken a physical education course at Stanford, it turned out to be fun and helpful. Jess used to get migraines and the massages would make her feel better. As Sam hunted out the pressure points in Castiel’s neck, the Angel slid forward to rest his head on his arms.
“I can see that.”
The Angel had tension knots like Sam couldn’t believe. Maybe the weight of wings he could no longer see or feel.
Sam worked his way down Cas’ back, manfully ignoring the low ‘ah-ah-ah’s’ he got when he dug his thumbs into the Angel’s wing Marks. He’d gotten most of the way down Castiel’s lower back when Cas shifted very slightly. Sam thought at first he was trying to get more comfortable, so he pressed harder only to have Cas shift again.
Sam looked down and noticed with a shock that Cas was...... hard. Bulging against his jeans, shifting uncomfortably, hard. He worried at his bottom lip, before he trailed his fingers lightly over the wing marks.
The noise Castiel made blew all other previous groans out of the water. He shifted again, spreading his legs wider. Sam did again, scraping the backs of his nails across the edge of his shoulder blades.
Cas said something in a guttural language, deep and warm at the back of his throat. Sam paused again, fingers resting over where he knew the marks were. “What was that, Cas?”
His head didn’t move but Sam could see the tips of the Angel’s ears turn red. “Enochian.”
Sam considered that for a moment before continuing to press his fingers into his back. “Oh. What did it mean?”
That made Castiel blush harder. “Nothing I can repeat in respectable company.” He was almost constantly twitching with the effort to not move and Sam felt pleased.
“Um, I’m not respectable company, Cas,” he said with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t worry about offending me.”
Castiel’s breathing was getting erratic, and Sam lightened up his touch. “You’re not hurting me,” he said hesitantly. “It was not an expression of pain.”
“So I’m not... I wasn’t sure,” Sam lied with a small smile. “Okay then.” He scraped his nails again, only harder and straight down. Jess had liked it.
With a gasp, Castiel’s spine went ramrod straight and the oddly arousing guttural language exploded from him. Sam blinked. “That sounded like pain Cas,” he said, for the first time uncertain in his seduction plan. He took in the flushed and panting Vessel of an Angel of the Lord. His legs were wide, his hands clenching on his thighs, a damp spot on the crotch
of the jeans he was wearing.
“It. Wasn’t.” Through the grating tone of the aroused, Sam could also hear desperation and confusion.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked cautiously.
“No.”
That was definitive. Sam placed his palms on Cas’ back. His entire body shuddered and Sam stroked the warmth of his hands across the area he’d just abused. The Angel’s entire body undulated against him.
He began drawing designs across the nearly visible marks. And they were, raised against the fabric of the t-shirt. He traced them, and Castiel writhed in the seat, spreading his legs wider, shifting his hips against the air. His hands clung to the edge of the table and when Sam peeked a look at his face, the Angel’s eyes were half closed and his face flushed. “Sam I don’t understand ” He was panting, unable to focus. “I am... I have never felt this way before.” Sam paused again and Castiel dropped his head back and forced his eyes open. “Help me, Sam.”
Swallowing to wet a suddenly dry throat, Sam pressed the fingers of one hand to the Angel Marks. Castiel’s hips rolled on a low moan and Sam dropped his free hand on the almost painful looking bulge he found there.
Castiel froze for a second then the youngest Winchester squeezed. With a tortured shout that was more like a scream, the other man came, soaking his pants and writhing in the seat, gasping out something Sam couldn’t understand. Sam let him ride it out, palming his covered dick until Cas had stopped twitching. He withdrew completely, giving the Marks one last swipe.
The Angel shivered. “I have never felt that way before.” His voice was rough, and he twisted in the chair to look at Sam. “Why...?”
“Uh.” Sam backed away a little hastily and sat on his bed, his cock throbbing. “I should think it was obvious Cas.”
Though he was shaking, Castiel rose out of the chair. He stepped carefully up to Sam, sliding into the space between his legs. “Perhaps it was,” he murmured. “And I believe this,” he leaned down and with gentle fingers, tilted Sam’s chin up and kissed him lightly on the mouth, “is customary as a thank you.”
His hands were still on Sam’s face so Sam pulled him down for another kiss, this one deeper, slanting his mouth over the Angels. When Cas broke for air; he murmured, “why did you not tell me?”
“Because I...”
Dean opened the door and with a sound that reminded Sam of wings, Cas had vanished into the bathroom and left Sam alone.
*
| Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Epilogue |