Comment Fic Fills: D/C/S Meme
For the masterpost! Old fills of the D/C/S meme and even un-nonning myself for one. (BECAUSE THEY ARE ALL PORN AND ALL I WRITE IS PORN)
It's killing Dean to say quiet on his own.
He would rather have Sam plant his hand over his lips or have Cas shove his discarded tie in his mouth because this not-being-able-to-say shit is harder than he thought. He whimpers as Sam licks up his cock in a smooth single movement. "Please," Dean half-pleads in a growl.
Sam looks to Cas, who pulls Dean in for a rough kiss. Their lips mash together and Castiel's tongue rolls over Dean's teeth and he can't help the moan escaping his throat. When the angel pulls back, he roughly hoists the t-shirt up and over Dean's shoulders and murmurs into his ear with that fuck-me voice of his, "This is your only warning, Dean."
"If you talk again, it stops," Sam says, his breath blowing over Dean's stomach and making him groan in frustration. He's aware of what they really mean. If you don't want this to happen, all you have to do is say so. He gets it. He understands the implications. So when Castiel starts licking down his chest and eventually closes his mouth around his dick and Sam is suddenly sucking at his neck with a hand pulling his hair, Dean is fully aware that he is going to go to Hell. Again.
He doesn't talk but he does tangle his fingers in Castiel's hair. He's not speaking but gasping and moaning as the angel's lips move up and down his shaft, fingers dancing on his thighs. Dean fleetingly wonders how long he's been performing blow jobs to get that good before Sam's mouth is on his and he's lost again, raking his fingers down Sam's chest and tugging hard on the boxers the bastard has still managed to keep on.
Dean does not understand how he lost his clothing so quickly yet both Sam and Castiel still have some on. He almost opens his mouth to protest. Almost. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam watching him closely, as if wondering how long it will take him to say something. And when Dean starts getting overwhelmed by the warmth of Castiel's mouth and his hips begin to take a mind of their own, Sam watches as Dean bites his lip so hard he brings blood to the surface. It doesn't break through to the skin, but it will definitely leave a bruise.
Sam grits his teeth as Dean's hand finds his own erection and squeezes. He glares at his brother who has a proud yet devious look on his face, as if to say, "Sure, you can stop me from talking but you won't stop me from this." As his hand starts to shift in rough, jerky moves, Sam hisses in air and pulls on Dean's hair. "Fuck," he chokes out, and when Dean looks down he almost loses it because Cas is watching them and his pupils are blown to Hell.
"Ah," Dean breathes, and both Sam and Cas pay attention when Dean arches his back and throws his head to the side and makes this fucking amazing needy sound that drives both of them up the wall and suddenly it's no longer time to tease because he is so so close and this is the moment they have been waiting for, this is why they literally ambushed him at the door and made him promise to shut his mouth as Cas grinded against him and Sam whispered into his ear (dean these are the rules if you speak it's over and we'll never talk about this again do you understand) and this is why they worked so hard to make his knees buckle so Castiel could throw him onto the bed and it's all in this moment right here right here
Sam moans into Dean's ear and Castiel hums and it goes straight through his cock and oh god. Dean wants to warn him that this is it but he can't say anything so he hopes his strangled, muffled cry is enough as he comes, moving his fingers to Sam's hips and digging his fingers deep into Sam's skin. Castiel seems to take it all in stride, and Dean will think later that he probably has done this several times before and he's not really terribly surprised.
He glances over to Sam, raising an eyebrow as he breathes deep. Sam just smiles and it curves mischievously on his lips. "If you want to keep going, you know the rule."
Dean doesn't speak the rest of the night.
----
It started off as an accident.
It's the first time they've actually decided maybe today is the day while Dean is out and the hotel room is blissfully empty for a few moments. Sam has Castiel up against the wall, one leg up against the angel's thighs and grinding against his cock as the smaller man whimpers his consent. His playful nips around Castiel's jawline have come soft bites that his tongue soothes as he continues down his clavicle. He grinds into Cas, bringing out a pornographic moan that goes straight to Sam's dick and he starts fumbling with Castiel's tie, whispering how much he wants him, letting his tongue follow the shape of Cas's collarbone. And when Sam palms Castiel's cock through his pants, the other hand unbuttoning that white shirt that was always so damn clean, he swears he hears his brother's name on Castiel's lips. Just a faint, "oh dean," and it startles Sam...but not enough to stop. Instead of stopping, Sam just teases Cas even harder, biting and sucking down his chest while one hand undoes Castiel's pants. So overwhelmed by the pure physical feeling, Castiel is lost. Sam is determined to bring him back, and when he does, he will make sure it is his name Castiel's screaming, not Dean's.
They never mention it, but it's always been between them. They know it, don't get them wrong; the relationship has always been a little fucked up due to it.
Castiel has got Sam on the bed and is currently admiring his chest with those goddamn hands of his and Sam is consumed in it, helpless to do anything else but lie there, especially with his hands bound to the bedposts. On one wrist is a brightly colored red tie Sam uses when he's pretending to be FBI, the other is a dark blue which they stole from Dean's laundry pile. He struggles against them when Cas pulls his boxers off in one smooth movement, snaking a hand up Sam's inner thigh and grabbing his dick and twisting his hand, the movement sharp as a knife. Sam's hips immediately jerk upwards and he doesn't know why but Dean's name is on his lips and before Sam knows it the name has slipped out. He doesn't see Castiel's eyebrow twitch upwards for a small second before his brain starts swimming as Castiel licks the head of his erection, hand swiftly pumping as Sam willingly forfeits all coherent thought.
The turning point comes and it's really strange and awkward and it kind of all comes out one night.
Dean is passed out on his bed when Castiel pops from who-knows-where and ambushes Sam in the middle of the night. Sam figures Dean is in a alcohol-induced sleep coma, so when Cas's tongue finds its way into Sam's mouth, he takes advantage of the moment, quickly shedding their clothes. The moans are so so small and Dean shuffles a few times in his sleep, making the two freeze in the dark before deciding it was safe and continuing onwards. Sam thinks he has Cas to his advantage but then he feels the fingers run up his sides and Sam can't stop the arch in his back and suddenly now he's on the mattress. He can feel that fucking blue-eyed bastard smile - the tiny twisted smirk he gets when he knows he's in charge.
"Samuel," he whispers in an authoritative tone, and Sam bites back a moan. Castiel moves in closer and spreads Sam's legs apart, fingers teasing across his body. He reaches over to take a firm grasp of Sam's hair and leans forward to kiss him, purposefully making their cocks touch and Castiel grinds into him.
Sam's gasp turns into a loud moan as he shifts his hips, wanting that friction. Castiel hisses in air and catches Sam's lips, sucking hard on the bottom one to wretch another greedy sound from Sam's throat. "Cas, fuck," he murmurs, not paying attention enough to whisper. "Teasing," he manages to say, "not fair."
"But I know that's what you like," Castiel says in that low voice, tilting his head and somehow making it sound so goddamn seductive and when he grinds his hips into Sam's again, the younger Winchester lets his head fall back and maybe his moan gets a little too loud.
"Want this now," Sam growls, trying to dominate this again but Cas uses the fucking angel strength to push Sam back on the mattress and he's splayed out, grabbing the covers in both pleasure and frustration as Castiel reaches over and retrieves the lube.
"If you move, I will tie you up," and the sentence has just enough of a threat (or a promise) to make Sam inhale sharply. The exhale comes out as a loud moan as Cas pushes at his entrance, one and then two and he is trying not to push too hard and shaking from holding back.
Sam watches Castiel's lips as he licks them and bites them and they are so full and pink and suddenly his brain makes a connection so honestly it's not his fault when Cas suddenly hits there and he shouts Dean's name. He can almost feel Cas curse and with his free hand he pulls Sam up for a kiss when he hits the spot again and swallows his whimper when pleasure hits and rushes through him.
They don't notice Dean shift groggily at the mention of his name. Instead Sam gives an apologetic look and is about to say some stupid shit about how sorry he is when Castiel presses his mouth violently against Sam's and uses his tongue defile the younger Winchester's mouth.
Sam's back arches as Castiel enters him and he hisses and gaps in air, muttering curses. He tries to quicken the pace but Cas closes his eyes and grabs Sam's hips and the painfully steady motion continues, wretching awful needy sounds from Sam's throat. When he opens his eyes again, the look of Sam practically writhing beneath him make Cas dip and nip at Sam's neck, murmuring, "Samuel, Samuel," over and over again knowing that full name shit drives him up the fucking wall oh holy fuck
Castiel's thrusts get more erratic and he throws back his head and spits Dean's name out like a curse and Sam's hand reaches for the curve of his neck and brings Cas back down and their mouths meet again because Sam can't help the loud moans coming from him and he's hoping he can at least mute them and then Castiel's hand is around his cock and it's only a few pumps before Sam comes with a strangled cry and Castiel doesn't follow far behind, tumbling forward onto Sam's chest as a gasping, sweaty mess.
It's only a few seconds after this, Sam has his eyes closed when he hears Castiel say in a clear voice, "How long were you watching, Dean?" This takes a small bit of time to register - after a huge orgasm you kind of don't care about the world for a couple of minutes - and when the full force of the sentence hits Sam he does his best to gradually look up but ends up bolting straight into a sitting position. Dean's face is surprisingly not disgusted or horrified but mostly just shocked, sitting upright in bed with the covers pooled around him.
"I, uh," he manages to get out, and clears his throat. "I heard my name a couple times." Oh fuck.
Castiel says nothing but motions to the bed, telling him to come over. And everything stops as they wait for Dean to do something, anything.
And maybe that's why they were calling out his name; it wasn't so much trying to find solace in each other but just find the piece they knew they were missing.
For the second round:
Castiel had been waiting a long time at port for his captain to arrive. You could say what you wanted about him, that he kept too clean for the seas, that his clothes were always too neat and shiny for someone that hung around the infamous Winchester ship. Most of the crew believed he was a spy, especially when the elder brother, Dean, fell to the stormy seas. (Both Samuel and Dean ruled together with the crew, and now the role of captain was to be filled by only Sam.) But Dean had trusted him, and after a year or two of proving his faith to the brothers (and almost dying because of it), Sam also trusted him.
The crew kept stealing glares. Castiel was never one to mingle with the rest of the men that inhabited the ship, with the exception of one stowaway who dressed as a man for a few months, Anna. He didn't really like them or enjoyed what they did, and most of them were dirty-mouthed heathens, to be quite frank.
Dean and Sam...they were different. Yes, Dean was exceptionally fond of being rough and rowdy and celebrating much too hard with the crew. It was true Sam had killed more men in the bloody battle in the Port of 'Cago than the rest of the crew combined. But there was something in them, something refreshingly brilliant about them. Sam obviously had more education than Dean, but they worked together perfectly. They knew exactly where the weak spots were in someone's hull. They could scan a dock and tell the crew where they needed the cannonballs to fly. And they always seemed to know exactly where the loot was.
They had brought Castiel in as a specialist. He knew the upper crust of society well, having been in Zachariah's providence as an apprentice. Castiel hated Zachariah, so when the Winchesters saw him and took him, he didn't resist much. In fact, he didn't need to be restrained. He simply walked onto the ship, told the brothers what they wanted to know. And when they came to Uriel's small (yet incredibly rich) little city, Castiel helped them out there as well. Eventually, he became first mate, and Castiel held on proudly to his position.
He also held on proudly to the Winchesters. The crew could accuse him of being a spy, but Castiel would never betray them. Of course, he couldn't tell the crew that he loved the brothers either, not unless he wanted to be hung the next day. (He remembers the one night Dean and Sam were drunk in their quarters, discussing plans, and Castiel happened to come in to check on them, and suddenly he was up against the table, Sam whispering things in his ear and Dean slowly undoing the polished buttons of Castiel's pristine jacket. Nothing was ever really the same after that.)
When Dean fell overboard to his death, Sam and Castiel grew closer. When they were alone, Castiel would call him 'Sam' or even 'Sammy'. He couldn't understand Sam's pain, but he always tried.
Sam went alone on this mission. He was going to infiltrate this property from the inside, he said. Castiel made sure he had the correct clothes, knew the right words, held himself correctly. And they were to pick him up in two months. Two months. Castiel stood on the port and frowned. Where was he?
...Wait. There. But that couldn't be Sam, their captain. He wasn't carrying himself right. Castiel broke composure, sure he was probably frightening the other crew when he ran to help Sam. He didn't care. He had lost one brother. He wasn't losing them both.
"Cas," Sam said weakly, using the nickname Dean created. Only they used it, no one else ever had.
"Sam," Castiel said softly, grabbing Sam's shoulders and righting him when Sam pitched forward.
"Cas, they figured it out. Last two weeks. Tortured."
Castiel had a temper. A huge temper, in fact. And when Sam saw it in his eyes, he lifted his right hand to touch Castiel's cheek softly. "Nothing we can do right now. We'll get them back."
When Castiel scanned him for any injures, of course he noticed Sam's hand, bandaged up and bloody. "Sam...your hand." He touches it, and starts to unwrap it. Sam doesn't stop him. He frowns instead, and later Castiel realizes Sam doesn't stop him because Cas will eventually find out.
There is a huge metal hook jutting from a stump in his arm. The flesh looks diseased, but perhaps still salvageable. Castiel looks in shock. He had no idea what to say. Sam's alive, but at what price?
"Cas," and Sam's wiping away tears from Castiel's face that Cas didn't even know were there. "Cas, it's fine. We'll clean it up at the ship, see how bad it really is." Sam frowns, and, giving a quick look behind them to check that none of the crew can see, brushes his lips against Castiel's, right hand digging into Cas' shoulder to keep balance. "Stop crying. They'll see."
"Yes, Sam."
"Help me to the ship, Cas?"
Castiel hoists Sam's good arm across his shoulders after quickly wiping the remaining tears away. "I'll make sure they pay, Sam."
"You and me both, Cas." There's steel in his voice, determination. "Sir Michael, Alistair, Lady Ruby. They're going to pay."
Together they shuffle towards the crew, the lone captain leaning heavily on his first mate.
It's killing Dean to say quiet on his own.
He would rather have Sam plant his hand over his lips or have Cas shove his discarded tie in his mouth because this not-being-able-to-say shit is harder than he thought. He whimpers as Sam licks up his cock in a smooth single movement. "Please," Dean half-pleads in a growl.
Sam looks to Cas, who pulls Dean in for a rough kiss. Their lips mash together and Castiel's tongue rolls over Dean's teeth and he can't help the moan escaping his throat. When the angel pulls back, he roughly hoists the t-shirt up and over Dean's shoulders and murmurs into his ear with that fuck-me voice of his, "This is your only warning, Dean."
"If you talk again, it stops," Sam says, his breath blowing over Dean's stomach and making him groan in frustration. He's aware of what they really mean. If you don't want this to happen, all you have to do is say so. He gets it. He understands the implications. So when Castiel starts licking down his chest and eventually closes his mouth around his dick and Sam is suddenly sucking at his neck with a hand pulling his hair, Dean is fully aware that he is going to go to Hell. Again.
He doesn't talk but he does tangle his fingers in Castiel's hair. He's not speaking but gasping and moaning as the angel's lips move up and down his shaft, fingers dancing on his thighs. Dean fleetingly wonders how long he's been performing blow jobs to get that good before Sam's mouth is on his and he's lost again, raking his fingers down Sam's chest and tugging hard on the boxers the bastard has still managed to keep on.
Dean does not understand how he lost his clothing so quickly yet both Sam and Castiel still have some on. He almost opens his mouth to protest. Almost. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam watching him closely, as if wondering how long it will take him to say something. And when Dean starts getting overwhelmed by the warmth of Castiel's mouth and his hips begin to take a mind of their own, Sam watches as Dean bites his lip so hard he brings blood to the surface. It doesn't break through to the skin, but it will definitely leave a bruise.
Sam grits his teeth as Dean's hand finds his own erection and squeezes. He glares at his brother who has a proud yet devious look on his face, as if to say, "Sure, you can stop me from talking but you won't stop me from this." As his hand starts to shift in rough, jerky moves, Sam hisses in air and pulls on Dean's hair. "Fuck," he chokes out, and when Dean looks down he almost loses it because Cas is watching them and his pupils are blown to Hell.
"Ah," Dean breathes, and both Sam and Cas pay attention when Dean arches his back and throws his head to the side and makes this fucking amazing needy sound that drives both of them up the wall and suddenly it's no longer time to tease because he is so so close and this is the moment they have been waiting for, this is why they literally ambushed him at the door and made him promise to shut his mouth as Cas grinded against him and Sam whispered into his ear (dean these are the rules if you speak it's over and we'll never talk about this again do you understand) and this is why they worked so hard to make his knees buckle so Castiel could throw him onto the bed and it's all in this moment right here right here
Sam moans into Dean's ear and Castiel hums and it goes straight through his cock and oh god. Dean wants to warn him that this is it but he can't say anything so he hopes his strangled, muffled cry is enough as he comes, moving his fingers to Sam's hips and digging his fingers deep into Sam's skin. Castiel seems to take it all in stride, and Dean will think later that he probably has done this several times before and he's not really terribly surprised.
He glances over to Sam, raising an eyebrow as he breathes deep. Sam just smiles and it curves mischievously on his lips. "If you want to keep going, you know the rule."
Dean doesn't speak the rest of the night.
----
It started off as an accident.
It's the first time they've actually decided maybe today is the day while Dean is out and the hotel room is blissfully empty for a few moments. Sam has Castiel up against the wall, one leg up against the angel's thighs and grinding against his cock as the smaller man whimpers his consent. His playful nips around Castiel's jawline have come soft bites that his tongue soothes as he continues down his clavicle. He grinds into Cas, bringing out a pornographic moan that goes straight to Sam's dick and he starts fumbling with Castiel's tie, whispering how much he wants him, letting his tongue follow the shape of Cas's collarbone. And when Sam palms Castiel's cock through his pants, the other hand unbuttoning that white shirt that was always so damn clean, he swears he hears his brother's name on Castiel's lips. Just a faint, "oh dean," and it startles Sam...but not enough to stop. Instead of stopping, Sam just teases Cas even harder, biting and sucking down his chest while one hand undoes Castiel's pants. So overwhelmed by the pure physical feeling, Castiel is lost. Sam is determined to bring him back, and when he does, he will make sure it is his name Castiel's screaming, not Dean's.
They never mention it, but it's always been between them. They know it, don't get them wrong; the relationship has always been a little fucked up due to it.
Castiel has got Sam on the bed and is currently admiring his chest with those goddamn hands of his and Sam is consumed in it, helpless to do anything else but lie there, especially with his hands bound to the bedposts. On one wrist is a brightly colored red tie Sam uses when he's pretending to be FBI, the other is a dark blue which they stole from Dean's laundry pile. He struggles against them when Cas pulls his boxers off in one smooth movement, snaking a hand up Sam's inner thigh and grabbing his dick and twisting his hand, the movement sharp as a knife. Sam's hips immediately jerk upwards and he doesn't know why but Dean's name is on his lips and before Sam knows it the name has slipped out. He doesn't see Castiel's eyebrow twitch upwards for a small second before his brain starts swimming as Castiel licks the head of his erection, hand swiftly pumping as Sam willingly forfeits all coherent thought.
The turning point comes and it's really strange and awkward and it kind of all comes out one night.
Dean is passed out on his bed when Castiel pops from who-knows-where and ambushes Sam in the middle of the night. Sam figures Dean is in a alcohol-induced sleep coma, so when Cas's tongue finds its way into Sam's mouth, he takes advantage of the moment, quickly shedding their clothes. The moans are so so small and Dean shuffles a few times in his sleep, making the two freeze in the dark before deciding it was safe and continuing onwards. Sam thinks he has Cas to his advantage but then he feels the fingers run up his sides and Sam can't stop the arch in his back and suddenly now he's on the mattress. He can feel that fucking blue-eyed bastard smile - the tiny twisted smirk he gets when he knows he's in charge.
"Samuel," he whispers in an authoritative tone, and Sam bites back a moan. Castiel moves in closer and spreads Sam's legs apart, fingers teasing across his body. He reaches over to take a firm grasp of Sam's hair and leans forward to kiss him, purposefully making their cocks touch and Castiel grinds into him.
Sam's gasp turns into a loud moan as he shifts his hips, wanting that friction. Castiel hisses in air and catches Sam's lips, sucking hard on the bottom one to wretch another greedy sound from Sam's throat. "Cas, fuck," he murmurs, not paying attention enough to whisper. "Teasing," he manages to say, "not fair."
"But I know that's what you like," Castiel says in that low voice, tilting his head and somehow making it sound so goddamn seductive and when he grinds his hips into Sam's again, the younger Winchester lets his head fall back and maybe his moan gets a little too loud.
"Want this now," Sam growls, trying to dominate this again but Cas uses the fucking angel strength to push Sam back on the mattress and he's splayed out, grabbing the covers in both pleasure and frustration as Castiel reaches over and retrieves the lube.
"If you move, I will tie you up," and the sentence has just enough of a threat (or a promise) to make Sam inhale sharply. The exhale comes out as a loud moan as Cas pushes at his entrance, one and then two and he is trying not to push too hard and shaking from holding back.
Sam watches Castiel's lips as he licks them and bites them and they are so full and pink and suddenly his brain makes a connection so honestly it's not his fault when Cas suddenly hits there and he shouts Dean's name. He can almost feel Cas curse and with his free hand he pulls Sam up for a kiss when he hits the spot again and swallows his whimper when pleasure hits and rushes through him.
They don't notice Dean shift groggily at the mention of his name. Instead Sam gives an apologetic look and is about to say some stupid shit about how sorry he is when Castiel presses his mouth violently against Sam's and uses his tongue defile the younger Winchester's mouth.
Sam's back arches as Castiel enters him and he hisses and gaps in air, muttering curses. He tries to quicken the pace but Cas closes his eyes and grabs Sam's hips and the painfully steady motion continues, wretching awful needy sounds from Sam's throat. When he opens his eyes again, the look of Sam practically writhing beneath him make Cas dip and nip at Sam's neck, murmuring, "Samuel, Samuel," over and over again knowing that full name shit drives him up the fucking wall oh holy fuck
Castiel's thrusts get more erratic and he throws back his head and spits Dean's name out like a curse and Sam's hand reaches for the curve of his neck and brings Cas back down and their mouths meet again because Sam can't help the loud moans coming from him and he's hoping he can at least mute them and then Castiel's hand is around his cock and it's only a few pumps before Sam comes with a strangled cry and Castiel doesn't follow far behind, tumbling forward onto Sam's chest as a gasping, sweaty mess.
It's only a few seconds after this, Sam has his eyes closed when he hears Castiel say in a clear voice, "How long were you watching, Dean?" This takes a small bit of time to register - after a huge orgasm you kind of don't care about the world for a couple of minutes - and when the full force of the sentence hits Sam he does his best to gradually look up but ends up bolting straight into a sitting position. Dean's face is surprisingly not disgusted or horrified but mostly just shocked, sitting upright in bed with the covers pooled around him.
"I, uh," he manages to get out, and clears his throat. "I heard my name a couple times." Oh fuck.
Castiel says nothing but motions to the bed, telling him to come over. And everything stops as they wait for Dean to do something, anything.
And maybe that's why they were calling out his name; it wasn't so much trying to find solace in each other but just find the piece they knew they were missing.
For the second round:
Castiel had been waiting a long time at port for his captain to arrive. You could say what you wanted about him, that he kept too clean for the seas, that his clothes were always too neat and shiny for someone that hung around the infamous Winchester ship. Most of the crew believed he was a spy, especially when the elder brother, Dean, fell to the stormy seas. (Both Samuel and Dean ruled together with the crew, and now the role of captain was to be filled by only Sam.) But Dean had trusted him, and after a year or two of proving his faith to the brothers (and almost dying because of it), Sam also trusted him.
The crew kept stealing glares. Castiel was never one to mingle with the rest of the men that inhabited the ship, with the exception of one stowaway who dressed as a man for a few months, Anna. He didn't really like them or enjoyed what they did, and most of them were dirty-mouthed heathens, to be quite frank.
Dean and Sam...they were different. Yes, Dean was exceptionally fond of being rough and rowdy and celebrating much too hard with the crew. It was true Sam had killed more men in the bloody battle in the Port of 'Cago than the rest of the crew combined. But there was something in them, something refreshingly brilliant about them. Sam obviously had more education than Dean, but they worked together perfectly. They knew exactly where the weak spots were in someone's hull. They could scan a dock and tell the crew where they needed the cannonballs to fly. And they always seemed to know exactly where the loot was.
They had brought Castiel in as a specialist. He knew the upper crust of society well, having been in Zachariah's providence as an apprentice. Castiel hated Zachariah, so when the Winchesters saw him and took him, he didn't resist much. In fact, he didn't need to be restrained. He simply walked onto the ship, told the brothers what they wanted to know. And when they came to Uriel's small (yet incredibly rich) little city, Castiel helped them out there as well. Eventually, he became first mate, and Castiel held on proudly to his position.
He also held on proudly to the Winchesters. The crew could accuse him of being a spy, but Castiel would never betray them. Of course, he couldn't tell the crew that he loved the brothers either, not unless he wanted to be hung the next day. (He remembers the one night Dean and Sam were drunk in their quarters, discussing plans, and Castiel happened to come in to check on them, and suddenly he was up against the table, Sam whispering things in his ear and Dean slowly undoing the polished buttons of Castiel's pristine jacket. Nothing was ever really the same after that.)
When Dean fell overboard to his death, Sam and Castiel grew closer. When they were alone, Castiel would call him 'Sam' or even 'Sammy'. He couldn't understand Sam's pain, but he always tried.
Sam went alone on this mission. He was going to infiltrate this property from the inside, he said. Castiel made sure he had the correct clothes, knew the right words, held himself correctly. And they were to pick him up in two months. Two months. Castiel stood on the port and frowned. Where was he?
...Wait. There. But that couldn't be Sam, their captain. He wasn't carrying himself right. Castiel broke composure, sure he was probably frightening the other crew when he ran to help Sam. He didn't care. He had lost one brother. He wasn't losing them both.
"Cas," Sam said weakly, using the nickname Dean created. Only they used it, no one else ever had.
"Sam," Castiel said softly, grabbing Sam's shoulders and righting him when Sam pitched forward.
"Cas, they figured it out. Last two weeks. Tortured."
Castiel had a temper. A huge temper, in fact. And when Sam saw it in his eyes, he lifted his right hand to touch Castiel's cheek softly. "Nothing we can do right now. We'll get them back."
When Castiel scanned him for any injures, of course he noticed Sam's hand, bandaged up and bloody. "Sam...your hand." He touches it, and starts to unwrap it. Sam doesn't stop him. He frowns instead, and later Castiel realizes Sam doesn't stop him because Cas will eventually find out.
There is a huge metal hook jutting from a stump in his arm. The flesh looks diseased, but perhaps still salvageable. Castiel looks in shock. He had no idea what to say. Sam's alive, but at what price?
"Cas," and Sam's wiping away tears from Castiel's face that Cas didn't even know were there. "Cas, it's fine. We'll clean it up at the ship, see how bad it really is." Sam frowns, and, giving a quick look behind them to check that none of the crew can see, brushes his lips against Castiel's, right hand digging into Cas' shoulder to keep balance. "Stop crying. They'll see."
"Yes, Sam."
"Help me to the ship, Cas?"
Castiel hoists Sam's good arm across his shoulders after quickly wiping the remaining tears away. "I'll make sure they pay, Sam."
"You and me both, Cas." There's steel in his voice, determination. "Sir Michael, Alistair, Lady Ruby. They're going to pay."
Together they shuffle towards the crew, the lone captain leaning heavily on his first mate.