SPN - No eleventh hour reprieve - Sam/Cas - R
Title: No eleventh hour reprieve, part six b of six
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Hard R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Warning(s): Language, Angst, AU, Sam's a whiny bitch who texts too much, Adult Situations
Spoiler(s): Through 5.22, "Swan Song" just to be safe
Prompt(s): N/A
Word Count: Approx. 5,650
Beta Reader: fallingemerald
Rants: This has got to be the longest, porniest thing I've ever written. The full chapter is just shy of 9K, but since that's as long as the first five parts this is split into part six a and part six b.
Summary: Sam hasn't heard from Castiel since he vanished from the warehouse. When he shows back up, Sam's determined to make every moment count, even if the end is extremely freaking nigh.
Master List: Here
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.
Crossposted to: My ff.net, sn_slash and sam_castiel
Sam's heart absolutely does not break because, when they finally hear from Castiel, he called Dean. Sam's heart does not break because Sam is not a twelve year old girl no matter how often Dean insists that he is. He doesn't even care that Castiel didn't ask about him, because he's totally fine.
Besides, there are more worrisome things to worry about than whether or not Castiel is breaking up with him - which, just sours Sam's mood further because he isn't even sure if Castiel knew that's what Sam wanted and meant. Still, bigger fish to fry. Like the fact that Castiel is now apparently human now and is on his way to meet them and he'd rather talk to Dean than Sam.
No! Sam thinks, digging his nails into his palms. He is not a twelve year old girl! He refuses to act like a spited girlfriend just because - because there was nothing to be upset about. They're about to gank Pestilence and that's a very stupid thing to do and it needs his full attention, lest he or Dean mess up and get them both killed in the process.
With their luck, it would totally happen.
-
Sam nearly jumps out of the uncomfortable plastic chair when he feels his cellphone vibrate against his hip. He definitely does not make a startled sound that may or may not have been a squeak. He glares at Dean's bemused expression before he checks his phone.
He's got one text message from Castiel, and Sam's heart thuds loudly in his chest but that doesn't make him a girl. He's just startled, is all. Will you be upset if I do not reply to all of your messages individually when a single message will suffice? Castiel asks him.
I guess that depends on what your message is. Sam types back, trying to look casual under Dean's suspicious glare. He does feel a little bad, because in hindsight, he did send the angel a lot of text messages (voice mails, too) over the last few days. He isn't sure if the angel's cellphone even has room for them all.
“You texting Cas?” Dean asks, his tone forced casual. Sam shrugs, then nods. There's no point in lying to his older brother at this point. “He got anything useful to say?”
“I don't know, I'm waiting for him to reply,” Sam answers and as if on cue, Sam's cellphone vibrates in his hand.
I am fine. I don't hate you. I am still trying to read through your messages. There are a lot of them. It is endearing. Castiel replies, and Sam smiles widely.
He can hear Dean bitching about something but he's too busy typing to snap at him. I'm glad. I was worried about you. Obviously. You still on the plane? Sam sends, after quickly after giving it a cursory glance for typos.
I am on a bus. The people are very strange. One woman keeps showing me pictures of her cats. Castiel responds, and Sam can almost hear his confused tone, wondering why the woman would show strangers pictures of her cats, head tilt going on and everything. Sam really kind of misses that head tilt.
Sounds like a party. Don't drink or eat anything offered to you. Someone might try to drug and kidnap you. Sam replies, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.
Castiel is talking to him. Castiel doesn't hate him and is talking to him. There was probably a reason Castiel called Dean instead of Sam, and even if there wasn't, it didn't matter because they were good. Oh, and Sam Winchester is still not a girl. He can be happy and giddy if he damn well wants to be, because Castiel doesn't hate him.
Even though now really isn't the time to be feeling any of that because they're supposed to be keeping an eye out for Pestilence right now.
Sam can't help but smile when Castiel texts back. Thank you, Sam. I will keep that in mind.
-
Sam doesn't care that they're surrounded by dead people or that Dean is standing two feet away, Sam pulls Castiel to him by the lapels of his jacket and kisses him desperately. Castiel is startled at first, but he slips his hands to Sam's waist and reciprocates the kiss willingly. Their tongues trace together fervently for a long moment until Dean bangs his hand on the wall and they part for air, turning to glare at him.
“Now really isn't the time for this,” Dean says through clenched teeth. He's glaring daggers at the two of them, but Sam rolls his eyes and tugs Castiel back to him for another kiss. “Seriously guys? Seriously? Can we at least get the hell out of dodge before you try to get down each other's throats?”
“He has a point,” Sam murmurs against Castiel's lips, resting his forehead against the smaller angel - man's, he corrects himself, forehead.
“I'm not particularly inclined to care,” Castiel replies, pressing his lips against Sam's again and they kiss lazily for a minute before Dean storms off in an angry huff. Sighing, Castiel pulls away from Sam to look down the hall at Dean's retreating back. “Is it possible that Dean would leave us stranded here?” He asks.
Sam thinks about it for a minute before he nods his head. On a good day, Dean might have been inclined to wait but after the look he'd just given them it was better not to chance it. “Come on, Cas,” He says, slipping his fingers between Castiel's before tugging them in the direction of the exit.
-
“How are you feeling?” Sam asks. Castiel looks startled to see him, but the half empty bottle of scotch sitting next to him on the hood of the Impala probably has something to do with that. Sam moves to stand between the 'v' of Castiel's legs before leaning down to kiss him gently, ignoring the burn of alcohol on Castiel's tongue.
“I hate this,” Castiel murmurs against Sam's lips when they part for air and Sam has to agree. They kiss again, languidly, and Castiel slips his hands up under the hem of Sam's shirt to grip at the hot skin of his hips. “Where are Dean and Bobby?” He asks.
“They're putting the final touches on the game plan for tomorrow,” Sam replies, shrugging his shoulders. “I thought I'd check on you, make sure you hadn't wandered off or decided to drink yourself into oblivion.”
“I'm working on it,” Castiel says, moving one hand from Sam's waist to grab the bottle of scotch. He pops the top off with one hand before he takes another swig of it. He passes the bottle to Sam who hesitates for a second before knocking it back as well.
“Maybe you should lay off for now,” Sam says, passing the bottle back and Castiel puts the cap back on. “You don't want to wake up hungover.”
Castiel considers Sam for a moment before looking at the heavy glass bottle in his hands. “Maybe,” Castiel agrees finally, setting the bottle down at his side. He slips down the hood of the Impala a few inches and tugs Sam closer before he kisses the youngest Winchester again.
Sam can taste the scotch on Castiel's tongue as they kiss, as well as the hamburgers they'd had for dinner. He still tastes the same underneath it all, he's still Castiel, even if something is off about it. Something is missing but Sam doesn't care because Castiel moves to kiss Sam's jaw and he tries to unbutton Sam's shirt.
“Cas, we can't have sex on the Impala,” Sam laughs, tangling his fingers in the smaller male's hair and tugging his head back gently. Castiel makes a frustrated sound before he kisses Sam again and continues with the buttons.
“Can we have sex in the Impala?” He asks, pressing his hands against Sam's bare chest, stroking up and down his skin gently.
“Dean will kill us,” Sam says, but he can feel his resolve crumbling. Castiel is staring up at him intently like Sam's the only thing in the world, and his fingers ghost over Sam's nipples, teasing, before he scrapes his nails over them. Sam makes a choked sound before grinning. “What the hell, he doesn't need to know.”
Sam barely makes it into the backseat before Castiel clambers into his lap and starts to kiss him again. It's more demanding than earlier and Sam is more than willing to let Castiel take control, moaning obscenely when the smaller male starts to suck on his tongue.
Sam pushes Castiel's trench coat and suit coat off before shrugging out of his jacket and already unbuttoned shirt. Castiel makes a sound of approval and leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses across Sam's jaw and neck, nipping lightly with his teeth occasionally, before sucking at a spot at the juncture of Sam's neck and shoulder.
Sam laughs, breathless, but he throws his head back to give Castiel more space and tries to unbutton the ex-angel's shirt without looking. And for the most part, he can, but Castiel's moved onto his collar bone, one handed tangled in Sam's hair and the other tweaking a nipple and fuck if Sam can even think anymore. Sam doesn't bother to take off the tie, just loosens it enough that it won't choke Castiel before he rocks his hips up against Castiel's and they both groan loudly.
“You sure you want to do this?” Sam asks, gripping Castiel's hips tightly as he continues to grind up into him. He should feel bad, Castiel deserves better than losing his virginity in the backseat of a car, but Sam isn't sure if he's got the strength of resolve to make it to the nearest bed. He wants Castiel now, Goddammit.
“Do not make me have to hurt you, Sam,” Castiel says between leaving one red mark on Sam's neck and the next. Castiel has this thing about marking Sam. Sam's kind of surprised that he actually likes it - he isn't used to having a reminder of something good.
“Right,” Sam groans, slipping his hands to finish unbuttoning Castiel's shirt before moving to undo his buckle and slacks as well. “In which case, you're wearing entirely too much clothing.”
Castiel grunts his agreement before pushing himself up from Sam enough to shimmy out of the last of his clothes, tie notwithstanding, toeing off his socks and shoes in the process. Sam takes the opportunity to quickly undo his own belt and jeans before hooking his fingers in his boxers and slipping them down his own legs. Tugging Sam forward by his hair into another kiss, Castiel settles back down onto Sam's lap, his knees digging into Sam's side as he rocks against him, their erections rubbing together hot and hard.
Fuck, Sam thinks, because he isn't entirely sure he ever thought it would come to this. Not that he's complaining. He can't think of anything sexier than Castiel panting into his mouth between desperate kisses and rocking against him like he might just die if he doesn't. Sam can feel his orgasm building up, a warm sensation at the base of his spine and he's pretty sure he could come from the rutting frottage like a horny teenager. He's almost tempted to do it.
Still, Sam spreads his own legs farther and successfully manages to do the same to Castiel's. “Suck,” He says, pressing three fingers against the smaller male's lips when they part for air and Castiel obeys instantly, too buzzed to be confused.
Sam watches Castiel's brow furrow in concentration as he laves the fingers with his tongue before sucking at them obscenely and okay, Sam can kind of see why Castiel liked that. His free hand strokes up and down the small of Castiel's back, and when he decides his fingers are slippery wet enough he pulls them from Castiel's lips and slips them between the fallen angel's thighs. Sam can feel the intensity of Castiel's gaze on him when he presses one finger against Castiel's hole. He tenses up when Sam tries to press it in, Castiel's fingers digging painfully into Sam's hair and forearm.
“Ssh,” Sam says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of Castiel's lips. “It's okay, baby. Relax.” Sam can feel Castiel's hesitation before he obeys, loosening his grip on Sam and relaxing against him. Sam's finger slips in easily enough after that and Jesus, Castiel is tight. “I've got you, Cas,” he continues to murmur. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
Castiel is uncomfortable, Sam can feel it and he whispers against Castiel's cheek soothingly as he strokes his finger in and out slowly, pressing soft kisses to Castiel's cheek and jaw. Castiel tenses up again when Sam slips a second finger in, but he relaxes easily enough into it. Sam peppers Castiel's throat and jaw with gentle kisses and the knuckles of his free hand are massaging up and down Castiel's spine. By the time Sam slips his third finger in, Castiel is ready for it and he moans loudly when Sam fucks him slowly with his fingers.
“Sam,” Castiel gasps, bracing one hand against the roof of the Impala and the other on Sam's shoulder. “Please,” he begs, panting heavily as he rocks down onto Sam's hand.
He groans loudly when Sam slips his fingers out, nudging Castiel's hips up so he can slip further down the seat. His knees are brushing against the back of the front seat and the top of the backseat is digging into Sam's neck, but there's no way he could move if he stayed in the previous position. Gripping Castiel's hips tightly with one hand, he lines them up before looking up into Castiel's eyes.
“You gotta tell me if hurts,” He says, and Castiel nods his head slowly. Sam licks the palm of the hand that isn't gripping Castiel's sweat slicked hips before he strokes himself. There's no way this isn't going to hurt Castiel with only spit and precum to ease into this but he doesn't know if he can stop at this point.
Gripping Castiel's hip with one hand, Sam guides him down slowly until the head of his cock slips into Castiel. Castiel tenses up, nails digging into Sam's shoulder and his breath shudders. Sam moves to press soft kisses against Castiel's throat while they wait and it only takes a minute for Castiel to relax enough to ease himself down the rest of Sam's length. Sam groans and digs his fingers into Castiel's hips, letting his head loll on the rear dash.
“Jesus Christ, Cas,” Sam moans, eyes fluttering shut. “You're so Goddamn tight.” He wants to move, needs to move but he doesn't dare. Castiel is making soft pained sounds as his fingernails dig deeper into Sam's shoulder and Sam can feel his muscles clench and unclench around Sam and fuck if that isn't awesome.
“Sam,” Castiel says, his voice strained, a pathetic sound passing through his lips. Sam's about to nudge Castiel up enough so that he can pull out, murmuring against Castiel's skin they don't have to do this when he feels Castiel finally relax. The bones in Castiel's fingers pop when he flexes them out and he closes his eyes. “Sam,” He moans again, pressing down further onto Sam.
Sam's not an idiot, he can take a hint. He moves his hands to get a better grip on Castiel's hips, hands slipping over the sweaty skin, and he has a hard time holding on. Sam manages to get Castiel to move up before pulling him back down, slow and shallow thrusts that leave Castiel moaning pathetically as he follows Sam's lead. It's sweet and gentle, something Sam hasn't done in longer than he can remember, since Jess at least, but he doesn't want to hurt Castiel.
Castiel. Sexy, sweaty, debauched Castiel. His Castiel. Sam can't take his eyes off of the fallen angel and he watches Castiel's eyelids flutter and sweat trail down his jaw before he moves a hand to tug Castiel's tie and drag him down into a kiss. Castiel grunts into Sam's lips, digging his nails into Sam's shoulder again before he moans “harder” into Sam's mouth.
Sam is more than willing to comply and he grips Castiel's hips tightly again, shifting Castiel's weight to change the angle and Sam starts matching Castiel's movements with thrusts of his own. Castiel moans brokenly, pathetic, before he gives in and lets Sam take all the control. Sam's thrusts are hard and fast as he pants into Castiel's neck, and the smaller male grunts in reply, digging his teeth into Sam's flesh again.
“Touch yourself,” Sam says into Castiel's neck between kisses. Castiel uncurls his fingers from their grip on Sam's shoulder to move between them and Sam rests his forehead against Castiel's shoulder to watch the fallen angel move his hand in clumsy motions over his own cock.
Sam moans and buries his face in the crook of Castiel's neck and shoulder before thrusting harder. Sam slips further off of the seat and fuck if they both aren't going to be ridiculously sore after this. The angle changes again and this time when Sam bucks up into Castiel the smaller male shudders and mewls at him. Sam can't keep a good grip on Castiel's hips anymore, his hands sliding down sweat slicked thighs but that doesn't stop him from thrusting into Castiel hard, angling for the spot that's slowly turning Castiel into a puddle of goo.
A few thrusts and a strangled cry later, Castiel is coming all over his hand and both their chests, clenching tightly around Sam's cock. He practically melts on top of Sam, completely boneless as he slumps forwards and wraps his arms around Sam's neck. Sam makes a pathetic sound as he tries to ignore the burn in his arms and thighs. Castiel is deadweight, Sam can't move him at all, but it only takes few grinding thrusts before he's coming inside of Castiel and going limp as well.
“I love you,” Sam whispers against Castiel's skin, wrapping his arms around Castiel's hips in a loose hug. Castiel makes a pleased sound that vibrates through his chest before he sighs heavily and nuzzles his face into the crook of Sam's neck. “Dude, we can't sleep here,” He says but Castiel makes a frustrated sound before nipping at Sam lightly. Sam sighs, before letting his eyes slip shut. “Fine, but only for a minute.”
Sam swears Castiel purrs at that.
-
“What the hell, Sammy?” Dean snaps. Sam barely remembers to button his jeans before he whirls around to stare at his fuming older brother. “I swear to God if you had sex in my baby...” His voice trails off into a strangled sound when Castiel turns around, and Sam can see a smirk on the fallen angel's face.
“You swear what?” Castiel prompts, his gaze unmoving from Dean even as he did up the buttons on his shirt. He's smug and facetious and Sam would laugh if he wasn't so scared that Dean was going to explode and kill them both.
“You,” Dean says, ignoring Castiel to wheel around and jab a finger at Sam spitefully, “are paying for my baby to be detailed.” His cheeks are flushed in anger, and maybe embarrassment - a minute earlier and he'd probably have caught the two of them naked - and Sam has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “I fucking hate the both of you,” he spits before he storms off.
“Not even a high five for getting lucky?” Sam calls after Dean, unable to resist himself. Dean responds via a single finger over his shoulder and Sam snorts back laughter. “Well, we're lucky to be alive.”
Castiel makes a noncommittal noise before he hands Sam his shirt and jacket. “I wonder what he came outside for,” He says softly, watching Sam dress slowly, a lazy smirk on his face. He pulls on his suit coat and trench coat before Sam pulls him into a kiss, and Castiel hums happily.
“I wouldn't worry about it,” Sam murmurs, before kissing Castiel again. Sighing, Sam rests their foreheads together and he can feel rather than see Castiel's soft smile. “We should probably hurry up and head back inside.”
“In a minute,” Castiel replies, moving one hand to the back of Sam's neck before kissing him again. It's slow and lazy and if Sam thought he was in love before, he knows he is for sure now.
-
Sam's sitting shotgun in Bobby's truck, eyes half lidded as he watches the road speed by in front of him. They're not talking, Bobby, Castiel and he and Sam is actually enjoying the silence for once. The radio is playing static with the occasional snippet of a classic rock song thrown in for good measure and the engine isn't so much as purring as groaning in protest. Still, Sam grew up in cars and the familiarity is almost enough to put him to sleep.
Sam wants to sleep. He hasn't really had the chance to in a few weeks, since before Castiel went missing. He'd only got a few scattered hours here and there when his body gave up protesting and he just blacked out. Sam can feel Castiel's gaze on the back of his head though and occasionally Sam can feel Bobby starring at him as well, though both of them for entirely different reasons. It's difficult to sleep when people are starring at you, Sam decides.
Rolling his head to the left, Sam catches Bobby glancing at him before the older hunter snaps his head back to the road and Sam feels something warm spread in his chest. Sam doesn't remember the last time someone looked at him with a proud glint in their eyes. Sam's pretty sure it has something to do with the way he saved all of those civilians from the warehouse instead of leaving them to the Croates or blowing them up.
Smiling lazily, Sam glances into the rear view mirror and catches Castiel's gaze. The warmth in his chest travels instantly downward to Sam's groin and the hunter almost blushes. Castiel's staring at him so intently, brow furrowed before he licks his lips and Sam swallows before he licks his lips as well. They continue to stare at each other in the rear view mirror for a few more minutes before Sam forces himself to tear his eyes away.
Bobby may love Sam like a son, but Sam sincerely doubts he'd appreciate Sam eye-fucking Castiel in the backseat. Hell, Sam wouldn't be surprised if the older hunter threatened to shoot them or kick them out on the side of the road to make them walk back to Bobby's place.
Sam chances one last glance in the mirror but Castiel is looking at him, rather than his reflection, and he allows himself a small smile. It's nice to know that Castiel doesn't hate him, even after last night, and Sam can feel his heart flutter in his chest when he thinks about the smaller male.
Sam had been right to think they would both be sore that morning, Castiel more so than Sam, but Castiel had just flashed him a sleepy smile before nuzzling closer into Sam's chest. They had stolen the bed in Bobby's guest room. Dean had looked like he wanted to hit one or both of them before he grabbed his bag and stormed back downstairs into the living room.
Pulling out his cellphone, Sam weighs it in his hand for a moment before he can decide what to text Castiel in the backseat. His fingers move over the keyboard quickly when he decides what to send, smiling despite himself. Dean can fuck himself, Sam is not a girl. He thinks that was made pretty obvious last night.
I love you. Sam had sent, and he watches Castiel in the rear view mirror, waiting for his reaction. The fallen angel seems startled when his cellphone vibrates loudly in his pocket but his lips twist into a small smile when he reads it. He glances into the rear view mirror to meet Sam's gaze and Sam's almost positive that Castiel blushes before he ducks his head and starts typing a response to Sam.
I know. Sam's phone says a moment later and Sam's heart pounds loudly in his chest. I love you as well.
-
Sam's hand traces lazily up and down Castiel's sweaty side as he listens to someone traverse up and down the stairs down the hall. Whoever it was - and Sam would bet dollars to doughnuts it was Bobby - doesn't seem to care that the first, fourth, ninth and tenth steps groaned loudly whenever any weight at all is applied on them. The sound is keeping Sam awake.
Castiel is using Sam's arm as a pillow, his breath tickling Sam's inner elbow, the tips of Sam's fingers starting to tingle and go numb, but Sam can't bring himself to tell Castiel to move. Castiel is a warm, solid weight and he doesn't seem to care that Sam is curled around him, tangling their legs together and nuzzling into his hair. After how exhausted Castiel was earlier, Sam figures it's for the best to let him sleep, even if he is slowly losing feeling in his arm.
That, and they'd discovered the bed protests loudly when either of them shifts. Sam had known the bed was loud from previous attempts of sleeping on it and he figures if Bobby and Dean had ever had any doubt at all that Sam and Castiel weren't together before, they certainly wouldn't now. He isn't sure if he can look either of them in the eye tomorrow.
“You think too loudly, Sam,” Castiel murmurs against Sam's arm, his breath warm and moist against Sam's skin.
“You can hear me?” Sam asks, shock traveling through his system. His surprise must be evident in his tone because Castiel sighs heavily before rolling over to face Sam, the bed groaning loudly in protest as he moves.
“It's just an expression,” Castiel says, fighting back a yawn and Sam kisses his forehead softly and tries not to let his disappointment show. “You should go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”
“I know,” Sam sighs and Castiel cranes his neck to kiss him properly. They stay like that for a while, lazily exploring each other's mouths in a languid kiss, breaking shortly for air before pressing their lips together again. “I love you,” Sam murmurs, because he can't help himself, and Castiel hums agreement into his lips.
“Go to sleep, Sam,” Castiel yawns, tucking his head under Sam's chin and wiggling closer, wincing as the bed groans beneath them. Sam's arm is still pinned under the fallen angel but at least he can bend it at the elbow now without hitting Castiel in the face, and he wraps his free arm around Castiel's hips loosely and tangles their legs together again.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam mutters as he closes his eyes. He doesn't intend to actually fall asleep, but he welcomes it gladly when he feels the darkness start to wash over him. “Night, Cas,” He sighs, but he's out before he can hear if Castiel responds.
-
Sam has to take a breath and count to ten to stop his hands from trembling as he puts the last of the demon blood into the trunk of the Impala. He hates this, he doesn't want to do this. He knows this was his idea but, dammit, everything was just starting to go his way for once. This much demon blood is going to seriously fuck him up.
Sam can feel Castiel staring at him, his dark blue eyes boring a hole through Sam's flesh and into his soul, but Sam can't bring himself to look at Castiel. He doesn't want to know what the fallen angel is thinking. More than that though, he doesn't want Castiel to know he's scared.
-
The back of Sam's neck tingles as Castiel stares at him, but Sam refuses to look into the rear view mirror and catch his eyes. He's calmed down a bit, but his palms are still sweaty and he still feels jittery. He's relieved when Castiel finally drifts off to sleep in the backseat, and it's only then that Sam looks into the rear view mirror and watches him.
Sam likes the way Castiel's eyelashes look against his cheeks, and he looks ridiculously peaceful with his lips parted. He's so beautiful that Sam's heart hurts just looking at him. Castiel should never be seen like this, passed out and snoring softly in the backseat of the Impala. By rights, he shouldn't be able to sleep at all. If it wasn't for Sam and Dean, Castiel would still be an angel.
Sam bites back nervous guilt, but the can't tear his eyes off of his sleeping boyfriend. If they hadn't convinced Castiel to join Team Free Will... Sam knows he can't let himself think about this. It'll only start a self-deprecating spiral that will end with Dean either hitting him or calling him a little bitch.
“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asks, startling Sam. He looks over to find his brother watching him under a furrowed brow, his expression ineffable in the darkness of the night. “You stare at Cas any harder and you might burn a hole through him.”
Sam coughs nervously, then shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, sorry, guess I just zoned out,” He says, slouching down in his seat. “'m tired is all.” He glances up to look at Castiel in the rear view mirror one last time before he lets his eyelids slip shut.
He doesn't think Dean believes him, but Sam finds he doesn't really care one way or the other. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears Dean muttering about stupid younger brothers thinking about having sex in the backseat of someone else's car. Oh yeah, Sam thinks, making a content sound. How could he have already forgotten about that?
-
Sam rubs at his face tiredly as he watches Bobby move away before he looks over at Castiel. He isn't saying goodbye, because that would imply he isn't ever coming back and Sam is going to fight tooth and nail to make sure he does. He hasn't fought this hard for so long to let Lucifer win now.
“You take care of these guys, okay?” Sam asks, moving to stand before Castiel. His heart is pounding in his chest, painfully sharp, and he has to fight back the urge to either pull Castiel towards him and never let him go or push him back against the brick wall and kiss him until they're both breathless.
“That's not possible,” Castiel says, his tone ridiculously honest and Sam would laugh bitterly if his heart wasn't breaking. He looks so genuinely dismayed, big blue eyes shining pathetically that Sam doesn't bother to stop himself from reaching out and touching Castiel's cheek lightly.
Sam huffs out a bitter laugh and Castiel brings a hand up to stroke his thumb over the back of Sam's hand before curling their fingers together. “Then humor me,” Sam says softly, letting his hand slip from Castiel's face without losing the contact between their fingers.
“Oh,” Castiel smiles crookedly and he laughs dryly when he looks around them. “I'm supposed to lie,” he says, catching Sam's gaze again, and Sam lets out another bitter laugh. “Uh, sure,” Castiel continues, his tone strained as he forces himself to smile. “They'll be fine.”
“Just - just stop talking,” Sam replies, closing his eyes for a moment as he sucks in a breath. He shouldn't be surprised when Castiel drops his hand and grips the front of his shirt tightly to drag him into a kiss, but he kind of is.
Castiel is desperate and pathetic and he tangles his fingers in Sam's hair, tugging his head down to change the angle and deepen the kiss. Sam responds in kind as he wraps one arm around Castiel's waist and cupping the fallen angel's face with the other free hand. He nips at Castiel's lower lip lightly until his lips are parted and Sam plunges his tongue into the smaller male's mouth.
Sam can kiss Castiel forever he thinks, and he certainly would have tried to if Dean hadn't coughed loudly - a totally fake sound meant to get their attention more than anything else, to remind them that they're on a deadline here. Cheeks flushing slightly, Sam lets his hands drop from Castiel before pressing one last kiss to his puffy lips.
“I love you,” Castiel murmurs quietly, slowly trailing his hand's down Sam's arms until their hands touch. He curls their fingers together and squeezes both hands once, tightly, before he steps away and lets Sam's hands slip out of his. His blue eyes are impossible to read, but Sam doesn't even care at this point.
It's his turn to whisper, “I know,” and he doesn't care that his heart is thudding in his chest almost audibly because Castiel smiles, and it's beautiful.
The end.
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Hard R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Warning(s): Language, Angst, AU, Sam's a whiny bitch who texts too much, Adult Situations
Spoiler(s): Through 5.22, "Swan Song" just to be safe
Prompt(s): N/A
Word Count: Approx. 5,650
Beta Reader: fallingemerald
Rants: This has got to be the longest, porniest thing I've ever written. The full chapter is just shy of 9K, but since that's as long as the first five parts this is split into part six a and part six b.
Summary: Sam hasn't heard from Castiel since he vanished from the warehouse. When he shows back up, Sam's determined to make every moment count, even if the end is extremely freaking nigh.
Master List: Here
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.
Crossposted to: My ff.net, sn_slash and sam_castiel
Sam's heart absolutely does not break because, when they finally hear from Castiel, he called Dean. Sam's heart does not break because Sam is not a twelve year old girl no matter how often Dean insists that he is. He doesn't even care that Castiel didn't ask about him, because he's totally fine.
Besides, there are more worrisome things to worry about than whether or not Castiel is breaking up with him - which, just sours Sam's mood further because he isn't even sure if Castiel knew that's what Sam wanted and meant. Still, bigger fish to fry. Like the fact that Castiel is now apparently human now and is on his way to meet them and he'd rather talk to Dean than Sam.
No! Sam thinks, digging his nails into his palms. He is not a twelve year old girl! He refuses to act like a spited girlfriend just because - because there was nothing to be upset about. They're about to gank Pestilence and that's a very stupid thing to do and it needs his full attention, lest he or Dean mess up and get them both killed in the process.
With their luck, it would totally happen.
-
Sam nearly jumps out of the uncomfortable plastic chair when he feels his cellphone vibrate against his hip. He definitely does not make a startled sound that may or may not have been a squeak. He glares at Dean's bemused expression before he checks his phone.
He's got one text message from Castiel, and Sam's heart thuds loudly in his chest but that doesn't make him a girl. He's just startled, is all. Will you be upset if I do not reply to all of your messages individually when a single message will suffice? Castiel asks him.
I guess that depends on what your message is. Sam types back, trying to look casual under Dean's suspicious glare. He does feel a little bad, because in hindsight, he did send the angel a lot of text messages (voice mails, too) over the last few days. He isn't sure if the angel's cellphone even has room for them all.
“You texting Cas?” Dean asks, his tone forced casual. Sam shrugs, then nods. There's no point in lying to his older brother at this point. “He got anything useful to say?”
“I don't know, I'm waiting for him to reply,” Sam answers and as if on cue, Sam's cellphone vibrates in his hand.
I am fine. I don't hate you. I am still trying to read through your messages. There are a lot of them. It is endearing. Castiel replies, and Sam smiles widely.
He can hear Dean bitching about something but he's too busy typing to snap at him. I'm glad. I was worried about you. Obviously. You still on the plane? Sam sends, after quickly after giving it a cursory glance for typos.
I am on a bus. The people are very strange. One woman keeps showing me pictures of her cats. Castiel responds, and Sam can almost hear his confused tone, wondering why the woman would show strangers pictures of her cats, head tilt going on and everything. Sam really kind of misses that head tilt.
Sounds like a party. Don't drink or eat anything offered to you. Someone might try to drug and kidnap you. Sam replies, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.
Castiel is talking to him. Castiel doesn't hate him and is talking to him. There was probably a reason Castiel called Dean instead of Sam, and even if there wasn't, it didn't matter because they were good. Oh, and Sam Winchester is still not a girl. He can be happy and giddy if he damn well wants to be, because Castiel doesn't hate him.
Even though now really isn't the time to be feeling any of that because they're supposed to be keeping an eye out for Pestilence right now.
Sam can't help but smile when Castiel texts back. Thank you, Sam. I will keep that in mind.
-
Sam doesn't care that they're surrounded by dead people or that Dean is standing two feet away, Sam pulls Castiel to him by the lapels of his jacket and kisses him desperately. Castiel is startled at first, but he slips his hands to Sam's waist and reciprocates the kiss willingly. Their tongues trace together fervently for a long moment until Dean bangs his hand on the wall and they part for air, turning to glare at him.
“Now really isn't the time for this,” Dean says through clenched teeth. He's glaring daggers at the two of them, but Sam rolls his eyes and tugs Castiel back to him for another kiss. “Seriously guys? Seriously? Can we at least get the hell out of dodge before you try to get down each other's throats?”
“He has a point,” Sam murmurs against Castiel's lips, resting his forehead against the smaller angel - man's, he corrects himself, forehead.
“I'm not particularly inclined to care,” Castiel replies, pressing his lips against Sam's again and they kiss lazily for a minute before Dean storms off in an angry huff. Sighing, Castiel pulls away from Sam to look down the hall at Dean's retreating back. “Is it possible that Dean would leave us stranded here?” He asks.
Sam thinks about it for a minute before he nods his head. On a good day, Dean might have been inclined to wait but after the look he'd just given them it was better not to chance it. “Come on, Cas,” He says, slipping his fingers between Castiel's before tugging them in the direction of the exit.
-
“How are you feeling?” Sam asks. Castiel looks startled to see him, but the half empty bottle of scotch sitting next to him on the hood of the Impala probably has something to do with that. Sam moves to stand between the 'v' of Castiel's legs before leaning down to kiss him gently, ignoring the burn of alcohol on Castiel's tongue.
“I hate this,” Castiel murmurs against Sam's lips when they part for air and Sam has to agree. They kiss again, languidly, and Castiel slips his hands up under the hem of Sam's shirt to grip at the hot skin of his hips. “Where are Dean and Bobby?” He asks.
“They're putting the final touches on the game plan for tomorrow,” Sam replies, shrugging his shoulders. “I thought I'd check on you, make sure you hadn't wandered off or decided to drink yourself into oblivion.”
“I'm working on it,” Castiel says, moving one hand from Sam's waist to grab the bottle of scotch. He pops the top off with one hand before he takes another swig of it. He passes the bottle to Sam who hesitates for a second before knocking it back as well.
“Maybe you should lay off for now,” Sam says, passing the bottle back and Castiel puts the cap back on. “You don't want to wake up hungover.”
Castiel considers Sam for a moment before looking at the heavy glass bottle in his hands. “Maybe,” Castiel agrees finally, setting the bottle down at his side. He slips down the hood of the Impala a few inches and tugs Sam closer before he kisses the youngest Winchester again.
Sam can taste the scotch on Castiel's tongue as they kiss, as well as the hamburgers they'd had for dinner. He still tastes the same underneath it all, he's still Castiel, even if something is off about it. Something is missing but Sam doesn't care because Castiel moves to kiss Sam's jaw and he tries to unbutton Sam's shirt.
“Cas, we can't have sex on the Impala,” Sam laughs, tangling his fingers in the smaller male's hair and tugging his head back gently. Castiel makes a frustrated sound before he kisses Sam again and continues with the buttons.
“Can we have sex in the Impala?” He asks, pressing his hands against Sam's bare chest, stroking up and down his skin gently.
“Dean will kill us,” Sam says, but he can feel his resolve crumbling. Castiel is staring up at him intently like Sam's the only thing in the world, and his fingers ghost over Sam's nipples, teasing, before he scrapes his nails over them. Sam makes a choked sound before grinning. “What the hell, he doesn't need to know.”
Sam barely makes it into the backseat before Castiel clambers into his lap and starts to kiss him again. It's more demanding than earlier and Sam is more than willing to let Castiel take control, moaning obscenely when the smaller male starts to suck on his tongue.
Sam pushes Castiel's trench coat and suit coat off before shrugging out of his jacket and already unbuttoned shirt. Castiel makes a sound of approval and leaves a trail of open mouthed kisses across Sam's jaw and neck, nipping lightly with his teeth occasionally, before sucking at a spot at the juncture of Sam's neck and shoulder.
Sam laughs, breathless, but he throws his head back to give Castiel more space and tries to unbutton the ex-angel's shirt without looking. And for the most part, he can, but Castiel's moved onto his collar bone, one handed tangled in Sam's hair and the other tweaking a nipple and fuck if Sam can even think anymore. Sam doesn't bother to take off the tie, just loosens it enough that it won't choke Castiel before he rocks his hips up against Castiel's and they both groan loudly.
“You sure you want to do this?” Sam asks, gripping Castiel's hips tightly as he continues to grind up into him. He should feel bad, Castiel deserves better than losing his virginity in the backseat of a car, but Sam isn't sure if he's got the strength of resolve to make it to the nearest bed. He wants Castiel now, Goddammit.
“Do not make me have to hurt you, Sam,” Castiel says between leaving one red mark on Sam's neck and the next. Castiel has this thing about marking Sam. Sam's kind of surprised that he actually likes it - he isn't used to having a reminder of something good.
“Right,” Sam groans, slipping his hands to finish unbuttoning Castiel's shirt before moving to undo his buckle and slacks as well. “In which case, you're wearing entirely too much clothing.”
Castiel grunts his agreement before pushing himself up from Sam enough to shimmy out of the last of his clothes, tie notwithstanding, toeing off his socks and shoes in the process. Sam takes the opportunity to quickly undo his own belt and jeans before hooking his fingers in his boxers and slipping them down his own legs. Tugging Sam forward by his hair into another kiss, Castiel settles back down onto Sam's lap, his knees digging into Sam's side as he rocks against him, their erections rubbing together hot and hard.
Fuck, Sam thinks, because he isn't entirely sure he ever thought it would come to this. Not that he's complaining. He can't think of anything sexier than Castiel panting into his mouth between desperate kisses and rocking against him like he might just die if he doesn't. Sam can feel his orgasm building up, a warm sensation at the base of his spine and he's pretty sure he could come from the rutting frottage like a horny teenager. He's almost tempted to do it.
Still, Sam spreads his own legs farther and successfully manages to do the same to Castiel's. “Suck,” He says, pressing three fingers against the smaller male's lips when they part for air and Castiel obeys instantly, too buzzed to be confused.
Sam watches Castiel's brow furrow in concentration as he laves the fingers with his tongue before sucking at them obscenely and okay, Sam can kind of see why Castiel liked that. His free hand strokes up and down the small of Castiel's back, and when he decides his fingers are slippery wet enough he pulls them from Castiel's lips and slips them between the fallen angel's thighs. Sam can feel the intensity of Castiel's gaze on him when he presses one finger against Castiel's hole. He tenses up when Sam tries to press it in, Castiel's fingers digging painfully into Sam's hair and forearm.
“Ssh,” Sam says, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to the corner of Castiel's lips. “It's okay, baby. Relax.” Sam can feel Castiel's hesitation before he obeys, loosening his grip on Sam and relaxing against him. Sam's finger slips in easily enough after that and Jesus, Castiel is tight. “I've got you, Cas,” he continues to murmur. “I'm not going to hurt you.”
Castiel is uncomfortable, Sam can feel it and he whispers against Castiel's cheek soothingly as he strokes his finger in and out slowly, pressing soft kisses to Castiel's cheek and jaw. Castiel tenses up again when Sam slips a second finger in, but he relaxes easily enough into it. Sam peppers Castiel's throat and jaw with gentle kisses and the knuckles of his free hand are massaging up and down Castiel's spine. By the time Sam slips his third finger in, Castiel is ready for it and he moans loudly when Sam fucks him slowly with his fingers.
“Sam,” Castiel gasps, bracing one hand against the roof of the Impala and the other on Sam's shoulder. “Please,” he begs, panting heavily as he rocks down onto Sam's hand.
He groans loudly when Sam slips his fingers out, nudging Castiel's hips up so he can slip further down the seat. His knees are brushing against the back of the front seat and the top of the backseat is digging into Sam's neck, but there's no way he could move if he stayed in the previous position. Gripping Castiel's hips tightly with one hand, he lines them up before looking up into Castiel's eyes.
“You gotta tell me if hurts,” He says, and Castiel nods his head slowly. Sam licks the palm of the hand that isn't gripping Castiel's sweat slicked hips before he strokes himself. There's no way this isn't going to hurt Castiel with only spit and precum to ease into this but he doesn't know if he can stop at this point.
Gripping Castiel's hip with one hand, Sam guides him down slowly until the head of his cock slips into Castiel. Castiel tenses up, nails digging into Sam's shoulder and his breath shudders. Sam moves to press soft kisses against Castiel's throat while they wait and it only takes a minute for Castiel to relax enough to ease himself down the rest of Sam's length. Sam groans and digs his fingers into Castiel's hips, letting his head loll on the rear dash.
“Jesus Christ, Cas,” Sam moans, eyes fluttering shut. “You're so Goddamn tight.” He wants to move, needs to move but he doesn't dare. Castiel is making soft pained sounds as his fingernails dig deeper into Sam's shoulder and Sam can feel his muscles clench and unclench around Sam and fuck if that isn't awesome.
“Sam,” Castiel says, his voice strained, a pathetic sound passing through his lips. Sam's about to nudge Castiel up enough so that he can pull out, murmuring against Castiel's skin they don't have to do this when he feels Castiel finally relax. The bones in Castiel's fingers pop when he flexes them out and he closes his eyes. “Sam,” He moans again, pressing down further onto Sam.
Sam's not an idiot, he can take a hint. He moves his hands to get a better grip on Castiel's hips, hands slipping over the sweaty skin, and he has a hard time holding on. Sam manages to get Castiel to move up before pulling him back down, slow and shallow thrusts that leave Castiel moaning pathetically as he follows Sam's lead. It's sweet and gentle, something Sam hasn't done in longer than he can remember, since Jess at least, but he doesn't want to hurt Castiel.
Castiel. Sexy, sweaty, debauched Castiel. His Castiel. Sam can't take his eyes off of the fallen angel and he watches Castiel's eyelids flutter and sweat trail down his jaw before he moves a hand to tug Castiel's tie and drag him down into a kiss. Castiel grunts into Sam's lips, digging his nails into Sam's shoulder again before he moans “harder” into Sam's mouth.
Sam is more than willing to comply and he grips Castiel's hips tightly again, shifting Castiel's weight to change the angle and Sam starts matching Castiel's movements with thrusts of his own. Castiel moans brokenly, pathetic, before he gives in and lets Sam take all the control. Sam's thrusts are hard and fast as he pants into Castiel's neck, and the smaller male grunts in reply, digging his teeth into Sam's flesh again.
“Touch yourself,” Sam says into Castiel's neck between kisses. Castiel uncurls his fingers from their grip on Sam's shoulder to move between them and Sam rests his forehead against Castiel's shoulder to watch the fallen angel move his hand in clumsy motions over his own cock.
Sam moans and buries his face in the crook of Castiel's neck and shoulder before thrusting harder. Sam slips further off of the seat and fuck if they both aren't going to be ridiculously sore after this. The angle changes again and this time when Sam bucks up into Castiel the smaller male shudders and mewls at him. Sam can't keep a good grip on Castiel's hips anymore, his hands sliding down sweat slicked thighs but that doesn't stop him from thrusting into Castiel hard, angling for the spot that's slowly turning Castiel into a puddle of goo.
A few thrusts and a strangled cry later, Castiel is coming all over his hand and both their chests, clenching tightly around Sam's cock. He practically melts on top of Sam, completely boneless as he slumps forwards and wraps his arms around Sam's neck. Sam makes a pathetic sound as he tries to ignore the burn in his arms and thighs. Castiel is deadweight, Sam can't move him at all, but it only takes few grinding thrusts before he's coming inside of Castiel and going limp as well.
“I love you,” Sam whispers against Castiel's skin, wrapping his arms around Castiel's hips in a loose hug. Castiel makes a pleased sound that vibrates through his chest before he sighs heavily and nuzzles his face into the crook of Sam's neck. “Dude, we can't sleep here,” He says but Castiel makes a frustrated sound before nipping at Sam lightly. Sam sighs, before letting his eyes slip shut. “Fine, but only for a minute.”
Sam swears Castiel purrs at that.
-
“What the hell, Sammy?” Dean snaps. Sam barely remembers to button his jeans before he whirls around to stare at his fuming older brother. “I swear to God if you had sex in my baby...” His voice trails off into a strangled sound when Castiel turns around, and Sam can see a smirk on the fallen angel's face.
“You swear what?” Castiel prompts, his gaze unmoving from Dean even as he did up the buttons on his shirt. He's smug and facetious and Sam would laugh if he wasn't so scared that Dean was going to explode and kill them both.
“You,” Dean says, ignoring Castiel to wheel around and jab a finger at Sam spitefully, “are paying for my baby to be detailed.” His cheeks are flushed in anger, and maybe embarrassment - a minute earlier and he'd probably have caught the two of them naked - and Sam has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “I fucking hate the both of you,” he spits before he storms off.
“Not even a high five for getting lucky?” Sam calls after Dean, unable to resist himself. Dean responds via a single finger over his shoulder and Sam snorts back laughter. “Well, we're lucky to be alive.”
Castiel makes a noncommittal noise before he hands Sam his shirt and jacket. “I wonder what he came outside for,” He says softly, watching Sam dress slowly, a lazy smirk on his face. He pulls on his suit coat and trench coat before Sam pulls him into a kiss, and Castiel hums happily.
“I wouldn't worry about it,” Sam murmurs, before kissing Castiel again. Sighing, Sam rests their foreheads together and he can feel rather than see Castiel's soft smile. “We should probably hurry up and head back inside.”
“In a minute,” Castiel replies, moving one hand to the back of Sam's neck before kissing him again. It's slow and lazy and if Sam thought he was in love before, he knows he is for sure now.
-
Sam's sitting shotgun in Bobby's truck, eyes half lidded as he watches the road speed by in front of him. They're not talking, Bobby, Castiel and he and Sam is actually enjoying the silence for once. The radio is playing static with the occasional snippet of a classic rock song thrown in for good measure and the engine isn't so much as purring as groaning in protest. Still, Sam grew up in cars and the familiarity is almost enough to put him to sleep.
Sam wants to sleep. He hasn't really had the chance to in a few weeks, since before Castiel went missing. He'd only got a few scattered hours here and there when his body gave up protesting and he just blacked out. Sam can feel Castiel's gaze on the back of his head though and occasionally Sam can feel Bobby starring at him as well, though both of them for entirely different reasons. It's difficult to sleep when people are starring at you, Sam decides.
Rolling his head to the left, Sam catches Bobby glancing at him before the older hunter snaps his head back to the road and Sam feels something warm spread in his chest. Sam doesn't remember the last time someone looked at him with a proud glint in their eyes. Sam's pretty sure it has something to do with the way he saved all of those civilians from the warehouse instead of leaving them to the Croates or blowing them up.
Smiling lazily, Sam glances into the rear view mirror and catches Castiel's gaze. The warmth in his chest travels instantly downward to Sam's groin and the hunter almost blushes. Castiel's staring at him so intently, brow furrowed before he licks his lips and Sam swallows before he licks his lips as well. They continue to stare at each other in the rear view mirror for a few more minutes before Sam forces himself to tear his eyes away.
Bobby may love Sam like a son, but Sam sincerely doubts he'd appreciate Sam eye-fucking Castiel in the backseat. Hell, Sam wouldn't be surprised if the older hunter threatened to shoot them or kick them out on the side of the road to make them walk back to Bobby's place.
Sam chances one last glance in the mirror but Castiel is looking at him, rather than his reflection, and he allows himself a small smile. It's nice to know that Castiel doesn't hate him, even after last night, and Sam can feel his heart flutter in his chest when he thinks about the smaller male.
Sam had been right to think they would both be sore that morning, Castiel more so than Sam, but Castiel had just flashed him a sleepy smile before nuzzling closer into Sam's chest. They had stolen the bed in Bobby's guest room. Dean had looked like he wanted to hit one or both of them before he grabbed his bag and stormed back downstairs into the living room.
Pulling out his cellphone, Sam weighs it in his hand for a moment before he can decide what to text Castiel in the backseat. His fingers move over the keyboard quickly when he decides what to send, smiling despite himself. Dean can fuck himself, Sam is not a girl. He thinks that was made pretty obvious last night.
I love you. Sam had sent, and he watches Castiel in the rear view mirror, waiting for his reaction. The fallen angel seems startled when his cellphone vibrates loudly in his pocket but his lips twist into a small smile when he reads it. He glances into the rear view mirror to meet Sam's gaze and Sam's almost positive that Castiel blushes before he ducks his head and starts typing a response to Sam.
I know. Sam's phone says a moment later and Sam's heart pounds loudly in his chest. I love you as well.
-
Sam's hand traces lazily up and down Castiel's sweaty side as he listens to someone traverse up and down the stairs down the hall. Whoever it was - and Sam would bet dollars to doughnuts it was Bobby - doesn't seem to care that the first, fourth, ninth and tenth steps groaned loudly whenever any weight at all is applied on them. The sound is keeping Sam awake.
Castiel is using Sam's arm as a pillow, his breath tickling Sam's inner elbow, the tips of Sam's fingers starting to tingle and go numb, but Sam can't bring himself to tell Castiel to move. Castiel is a warm, solid weight and he doesn't seem to care that Sam is curled around him, tangling their legs together and nuzzling into his hair. After how exhausted Castiel was earlier, Sam figures it's for the best to let him sleep, even if he is slowly losing feeling in his arm.
That, and they'd discovered the bed protests loudly when either of them shifts. Sam had known the bed was loud from previous attempts of sleeping on it and he figures if Bobby and Dean had ever had any doubt at all that Sam and Castiel weren't together before, they certainly wouldn't now. He isn't sure if he can look either of them in the eye tomorrow.
“You think too loudly, Sam,” Castiel murmurs against Sam's arm, his breath warm and moist against Sam's skin.
“You can hear me?” Sam asks, shock traveling through his system. His surprise must be evident in his tone because Castiel sighs heavily before rolling over to face Sam, the bed groaning loudly in protest as he moves.
“It's just an expression,” Castiel says, fighting back a yawn and Sam kisses his forehead softly and tries not to let his disappointment show. “You should go to sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a very long day.”
“I know,” Sam sighs and Castiel cranes his neck to kiss him properly. They stay like that for a while, lazily exploring each other's mouths in a languid kiss, breaking shortly for air before pressing their lips together again. “I love you,” Sam murmurs, because he can't help himself, and Castiel hums agreement into his lips.
“Go to sleep, Sam,” Castiel yawns, tucking his head under Sam's chin and wiggling closer, wincing as the bed groans beneath them. Sam's arm is still pinned under the fallen angel but at least he can bend it at the elbow now without hitting Castiel in the face, and he wraps his free arm around Castiel's hips loosely and tangles their legs together again.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam mutters as he closes his eyes. He doesn't intend to actually fall asleep, but he welcomes it gladly when he feels the darkness start to wash over him. “Night, Cas,” He sighs, but he's out before he can hear if Castiel responds.
-
Sam has to take a breath and count to ten to stop his hands from trembling as he puts the last of the demon blood into the trunk of the Impala. He hates this, he doesn't want to do this. He knows this was his idea but, dammit, everything was just starting to go his way for once. This much demon blood is going to seriously fuck him up.
Sam can feel Castiel staring at him, his dark blue eyes boring a hole through Sam's flesh and into his soul, but Sam can't bring himself to look at Castiel. He doesn't want to know what the fallen angel is thinking. More than that though, he doesn't want Castiel to know he's scared.
-
The back of Sam's neck tingles as Castiel stares at him, but Sam refuses to look into the rear view mirror and catch his eyes. He's calmed down a bit, but his palms are still sweaty and he still feels jittery. He's relieved when Castiel finally drifts off to sleep in the backseat, and it's only then that Sam looks into the rear view mirror and watches him.
Sam likes the way Castiel's eyelashes look against his cheeks, and he looks ridiculously peaceful with his lips parted. He's so beautiful that Sam's heart hurts just looking at him. Castiel should never be seen like this, passed out and snoring softly in the backseat of the Impala. By rights, he shouldn't be able to sleep at all. If it wasn't for Sam and Dean, Castiel would still be an angel.
Sam bites back nervous guilt, but the can't tear his eyes off of his sleeping boyfriend. If they hadn't convinced Castiel to join Team Free Will... Sam knows he can't let himself think about this. It'll only start a self-deprecating spiral that will end with Dean either hitting him or calling him a little bitch.
“You okay, Sammy?” Dean asks, startling Sam. He looks over to find his brother watching him under a furrowed brow, his expression ineffable in the darkness of the night. “You stare at Cas any harder and you might burn a hole through him.”
Sam coughs nervously, then shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, sorry, guess I just zoned out,” He says, slouching down in his seat. “'m tired is all.” He glances up to look at Castiel in the rear view mirror one last time before he lets his eyelids slip shut.
He doesn't think Dean believes him, but Sam finds he doesn't really care one way or the other. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he hears Dean muttering about stupid younger brothers thinking about having sex in the backseat of someone else's car. Oh yeah, Sam thinks, making a content sound. How could he have already forgotten about that?
-
Sam rubs at his face tiredly as he watches Bobby move away before he looks over at Castiel. He isn't saying goodbye, because that would imply he isn't ever coming back and Sam is going to fight tooth and nail to make sure he does. He hasn't fought this hard for so long to let Lucifer win now.
“You take care of these guys, okay?” Sam asks, moving to stand before Castiel. His heart is pounding in his chest, painfully sharp, and he has to fight back the urge to either pull Castiel towards him and never let him go or push him back against the brick wall and kiss him until they're both breathless.
“That's not possible,” Castiel says, his tone ridiculously honest and Sam would laugh bitterly if his heart wasn't breaking. He looks so genuinely dismayed, big blue eyes shining pathetically that Sam doesn't bother to stop himself from reaching out and touching Castiel's cheek lightly.
Sam huffs out a bitter laugh and Castiel brings a hand up to stroke his thumb over the back of Sam's hand before curling their fingers together. “Then humor me,” Sam says softly, letting his hand slip from Castiel's face without losing the contact between their fingers.
“Oh,” Castiel smiles crookedly and he laughs dryly when he looks around them. “I'm supposed to lie,” he says, catching Sam's gaze again, and Sam lets out another bitter laugh. “Uh, sure,” Castiel continues, his tone strained as he forces himself to smile. “They'll be fine.”
“Just - just stop talking,” Sam replies, closing his eyes for a moment as he sucks in a breath. He shouldn't be surprised when Castiel drops his hand and grips the front of his shirt tightly to drag him into a kiss, but he kind of is.
Castiel is desperate and pathetic and he tangles his fingers in Sam's hair, tugging his head down to change the angle and deepen the kiss. Sam responds in kind as he wraps one arm around Castiel's waist and cupping the fallen angel's face with the other free hand. He nips at Castiel's lower lip lightly until his lips are parted and Sam plunges his tongue into the smaller male's mouth.
Sam can kiss Castiel forever he thinks, and he certainly would have tried to if Dean hadn't coughed loudly - a totally fake sound meant to get their attention more than anything else, to remind them that they're on a deadline here. Cheeks flushing slightly, Sam lets his hands drop from Castiel before pressing one last kiss to his puffy lips.
“I love you,” Castiel murmurs quietly, slowly trailing his hand's down Sam's arms until their hands touch. He curls their fingers together and squeezes both hands once, tightly, before he steps away and lets Sam's hands slip out of his. His blue eyes are impossible to read, but Sam doesn't even care at this point.
It's his turn to whisper, “I know,” and he doesn't care that his heart is thudding in his chest almost audibly because Castiel smiles, and it's beautiful.
The end.