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“Let’s admit, without apology, what we do to each other.”
― Richard Siken
“Are you… having trouble finding something to watch, Sam?” Cas asks. He’s with Sam on his bed. They’re sitting side by side, thighs almost touching. Sam’s cologne assaults his senses, that’s how close they are. The heat of his body is never-ending. The goal is to watch Netflix together but, instead, Cas is gazing at his friend. Sam’s been chewing on a pen and Cas’s question thankfully has Sam dislodging it from his soft, sweet-looking lips and returning it to his shirt pocket.
“Nah, I think I got it,” Sam says and clicks on a documentary called Blackfish. Almost immediately Sam starts absently chewing on his fingers. With anyone else, Cas would probably not think much of it beyond feeling mildly annoyed or disgusted but Cas is fascinated by Sam’s lips. His mouth. He needs to see it wrapped around anything and everything. He needs to memorize it so he can see it in his mind’s eye for the rest of his days.
It’s there in the safety of Sam’s bedroom that Cas starts mapping out a very dangerous idea in his head. When Sam smiles at him, he knows he can’t turn back. Cas is doomed to carry it through.
It starts out simply enough. Extra ice in Sam’s drinks. Sam likes to suck on the cubes, waiting patiently for them to melt down to a reasonable size before crunching on them. Meanwhile, Cas appreciates the shape Sam’s mouth makes around the pieces of ice. The noises. Sam seems to relish putting things in his mouth almost as much as Cas feels compelled to watch it happen.
It gets worse after that. Cas has no good excuses for it and no one to blame for how torturous it is than himself.
Chocolate, Sam likes chocolate. He doesn’t indulge nearly as much as Dean does but Dean confirmed it’s a guilty pleasure of Sam’s and the gift would be cherished and eaten, albeit slowly. So Cas acquires truffles from Harry & David’s that cost him a solid sixty dollars. When he hands the box over along with a bottle of champagne, Sam’s tempting lips part and he inhales sharply. “Woah, Cas. What’s the occasion? I mean… don’t get me wrong, this is… really thoughtful of you. But I don’t get why it’s happening, you know?”
“Do I need a reason to give such a special friend chocolate, Sam?” Cas asks in a tone he can only hope is teasing. At first, he is unsure if he succeeds, but it’s not long before he notices Sam’s blush. He’s pink from the tips of his ears to his neck and Cas is willing to bet if he tore Sam’s shirt off there’d be pink on his chest, too. Cas is delighted by this response from Sam - and perhaps a little turned on. He’s not entirely sure he’s ever said anything that flustered Sam this much before and it has him feeling a bit powerful and accomplished.
“I guess not,” Sam finally says and pokes his tongue out between his lips. The action strikes Cas as nervous. What would Sam have to be nervous about? “Will you share it with me?”
Oh.
It’s the best and worst thing that Sam could have asked.
Cas doesn’t have the strength to say no.
“If you would like that,” Cas replies carefully.
“I would.”
They lean against the kitchen counter and begin sharing the truffles. Sam makes love to his, he takes an obscene amount of time with each morsel. Sam uses the high calories as his excuse but Cas has the sneaking suspicion it’s the damn oral fixation, that thing that Cas is also chasing and needing from Sam. Sam’s careful not to make a big mess as he sucks on the chocolate and his moans have Cas’s dick blurting pre-come. He was already hard from Sam’s mouth but the noises strip away all logic. His mind unhelpfully wonders what else could make Sam this loud, if he’d be this happy with a cock in his mouth or ass. He wonders if Sam even likes dick at all.
These are not things he has any business thinking about.
“Do you not like it?” Sam asks and it takes Cas a ridiculous amount of time to realize Sam means the gift and not the painfully gorgeous show he’s putting on. Cas swallows thickly. He’s trying so damn hard not to be obvious in his staring, he wants to shield Sam from the truth, from how aroused Cas is - but Sam’s already squinting at him, a suspicious glint in his eyes. Wheels are turning and Cas isn’t sure how much longer he’ll be able to keep his secret or what will become of their friendship when his sins are found out.
“I like it,” Cas rasps and inwardly winces at the intensity of his lust. It’s made so plain in his words. Surely Sam can hear it, too. Cas doesn’t foresee it ending well.
Sam nudges Cas with his elbow, rewarding him with a grin. “If you say so,” he says and Cas barely resists tugging Sam closer and utterly destroying that delectable mouth of his.
“Awe, young love,” Dean says for the hundredth time, fiddling with the foosball table in his man-cave.
Sam rolls his eyes, leaving the security of the La-Z-Boy and stands near Dean. “Will you shut up already? It’s Cas, he’s just being nice,” he says even though he’s about fifty-fifty on that. He’s not about to tell Dean, though. He’s not in the mood to listen to Dean get fucking smug about how right he is just yet. And it’s not confirmed anyway, what’s the point in piling on an extra helping of suffering and irritating big brother bullshit?
“You know, for a smart person, you can be pretty fucking stupid, Sam.”
Dean’s trying to piss Sam off and make him give up the goods. No way, not happening, not this time.
“So? That could be said about pretty much any ‘smart’ person, Dean, tell me something I don’t know.”
“Oh my god, you’re hopeless,” Dean complains and pokes the box of truffles in Sam’s hands. “I caught you guys, remember? And even then, Cas couldn’t take his eyes off of you. You’re both fucking hopeless, goddamn.”
“You’re making a big deal out of nothing,” Sam says, batting Dean’s hands away and clutches his treat protectively against his chest. “Cas gets like that. A little intense. He’s done it with you, too. It’s… an angel thing,” he finishes lamely. It’s not convincing. Not even Sam believes it.
“It’s a you and Cas thing,” Dean insists and, dammit, there’s that expression on Dean’s face that Sam had been trying to maneuver and avoid entirely. “Trust me on this. You need to do me and everyone else a favor and fuck him. You get really fucking bitchy when you’re sexually frustrated and he’s got you all worked up. Also, maybe show Cas you like him back by not torturing him with nature documentaries all the damn time? Blackfish ain’t the way to his dick. You’re really gonna wanna up your game in the Netflix & Chill department.”
Sam wants to tell Dean to keep his mouth shut about Sam’s sex life (or lack thereof, damn him for being right) and point out that maybe Dean’s just a little bit too invested and should get a hobby or something but… it is kind of endearing that Dean cares or notices Sam’s loneliness. “Maybe,” he finally says.
“That’s my boy,” Dean says, winking and patting Sam’s cheek, his thumb grazing the edge of Sam’s mouth. It’s gone before Sam can think too hard about it.
Eating the banana that Cas offers Sam confirms that, at the very least, Cas has a bit of an interest in Sam’s mouth. His eyes never waver and they’re hot and intense enough to melt Sam’s bones. Sam takes tiny little nibbles, growing bolder by the second. He didn’t know if he could do this, he didn’t know if he could hit on Cas or take this further - but fuck the way Cas is looking at him… Sam could get used to it.
“Sam,” Cas says and he sounds pained. It’s kind of hot. No, okay, it’s really fucking hot.
Sam traces his tongue along the banana before taking another small chunk. “Want something, Cas?”
Cas looks like he’s about ready to climb over the table and into Sam’s lap. “I do. I really, really do.”
“Tell me about it.”
Cas’s eyes squeeze shut and his hands grip the table. “I want you, Sam. I want your mouth. I - I thought you already knew. I thought it was just me -”
“You like it when I eat, huh?” Sam asks gently. He sets the banana aside and Cas fucking moans.
“Yes. I like watching and it makes me want more.”
“Like what?”
“I want… I’d like to feed you.”
“Well.” Sam pauses, savoring the moment. “Dean bought us a fruit platter. I think we should put it to good use, don’t you? I think you should do whatever you want to me.”
“Sam.” Cas’s eyes are wild. “Yes, Sam yes. I want that. Right now.”
Sam’s torn. He wants to kiss Cas stupid but he also wants to move this shit along, get them somewhere private. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to make any hard decisions, Cas makes it for him. In a blink he’s at the fridge and grabbing the platter of fruit.
“Fuck,” Sam says, unable to offer anything else as he stumbles out of his seat and they both make their way towards Sam’s bedroom.
“Sit on the bed,” Cas demands, rough and raw once they’re safe inside and there’s no worries about getting interrupted by Dean. “On the edge.”
“Don’t want me to get undressed?”
“Not yet.”
“Okay.” It was certainly fair enough. Anticipation was often half the fun anyway. Sam manages to cross the room without tripping and he lets out a relieved breath as he sits.
“Thank you. That’s good, Sam.”
“Yeah?” Sam gazes up at Cas and licks his lips, slow and lazy. It’s entirely on purpose.
Cas groans and tears the plastic lid off of the platter and tosses it without bothering to see where it lands. He nudges Sam’s legs and Sam quickly gets the memo, spreading them. He allows Cas to stand between them and get as close to Sam as he wants.
“Cantaloupe,” Cas rasps, taking the chunk and painting the wetness along Sam’s lips. “Bite into it slowly.” Sam does and Cas looks like he’s about to combust. “How are you so perfect?”
Sam wants to disagree, he wants to say he’s far from perfect but now isn’t a great time to argue. Besides, he wants to make this enjoyable for Cas. So he hums and licks Cas’s fingers. “More, please.”
Cas obliges, pressing a watermelon against Sam’s lips next. “Such a good boy.”
“Fuck,” Sam gasps, his stomach warm and swooping. Good. An angel called him good. Sam doesn’t know if he’s ever been good but it’s nice to pretend.
“You’re beautiful inside and out,” Cas continues, leaning into the compliments. “Gorgeous. I love you like this.”
“Cas.”
“You’re thinking too hard,” Cas whispers, picking up a strawberry. “Can you take more? It’s okay if you need to stop.”
Fuck that.
“Give it to me.”
“Gladly,” Cas growls and Sam’s cock jerks at the sound. Sam takes his time with the strawberry, letting it linger on his tongue, enjoying the texture and sweetness as he stares into Cas’s heated eyes. He thinks it might be the best thing he’s ever eaten because Cas is feeding it to him. Sam kisses, licks and sucks the length of Cas’s fingers in thanks. They both know where this is headed and Sam really wants to get them there. “There’s something else I’d really like to put in your mouth.”
“Is it your cock?"
“Yes."
Sam palms on his own dick, his breath turning ragged. “Fuck. Please, please, please, Cas.”
Cas sets the platter down on the bed and shuffles backwards. “On the floor.”
“Yes,” Sam says, voice strained and he sinks to his knees immediately. There’s no hiding how needy and desperate he is but that’s okay because one look at Cas tells a very similar story. Cas is right there with Sam and Cas likes it. “Come on, let me see.”
“Is that begging I hear?” Cas asks, eyes locked on Sam as he unbuttons his pants, pulls his dick free and taps the edge of Sam’s mouth with it, shamelessly teasing him.
“Mmm. Maybe.” Sam opens wide, tongue darting out for a taste of Cas. He grazes the tip of it and his own cock throbs. “You gonna hurry up and fuck me or are you going to play games?”
“I’m going to fuck you,” Cas husks, painting Sam’s lips with pre-come. “But I plan on taking my time.”
Sam’s about to lay it on thick with the begging but there’s no need - Cas carefully nudges his cock inside Sam’s mouth and Sam relaxes his throat, taking every inch that Cas has to offer. Cas hisses like he’s never gotten a decent blowjob before (or at all, fuck fuck fuck, don’t think about that, Sam).
“Sam,” Cas says, drawing out his name as he gathers a fistful of Sam’s hair. He thrusts into Sam with small, aborted movements that are far too strapped in for Sam’s liking. Sam smiles around Cas’s dick, willing him to use Sam however he wants.
Thankfully, the restraint doesn’t last long. Sam drags his tongue along slick skin. He dips into the slit of Cas’s dick and Cas is gone, his eyes feral as he fucks Sam’s mouth with a violent insistence that Sam can really get behind. Every time Cas tugs on Sam’s hair it sends tingles from Sam’s scalp to his dick. Every time Cas growls Sam wants to come apart beneath him.
Sam’s brain is all but mush as he blindly grasps his own cock, desperate for stimulation. The thumb of Cas’s other hand finds the edge of Sam’s mouth and strokes it. “Did I say you could touch yourself?” Cas’s gaze is molten hot and his pace slows down to glacial, barely fucking into Sam. Sam knows immediately it’s a punishment.
Sam shakes his head and moans out as good of a ‘no’ as he can with his mouth stuffed full of dick.
“You should probably keep your hands to yourself, then.” Sam shivers and obeys. Cas pulls out of his mouth, leaving Sam aching and empty and missing him. “Stand up.”
“Fuck, Cas.” God, Sam might just come from the never-ending bossiness alone. It takes multiple tries but finally he gets up, legs weak and shaking with the effort to keep him upright.
Cas makes quick work of Sam’s shirt, tearing it off his body faster than Sam ever has. A few heartbeats later and Cas is circling Sam’s nipples with the pads of his fingers. “I kept wondering what other parts of your body might be pink besides your mouth,” Cas rasps, then replaces his fingers with tongue, sucking on Sam’s nipples until they’re hard and sensitive.
The rest of Sam’s clothes are off even faster and Sam’s grateful as he stands there naked and dripping for Cas. “There’s something wrong here,” Sam says, gesturing at Cas. Besides his very hard, gorgeous dick hanging out, he’s dressed.
Cas smiles, gathers Sam up in his arms, and throws him onto the bed like he weighs little more than a rag doll. Sam yelps as he hits the bed and spreads his legs eagerly. “I have a plan. Have some patience.”
“So, what’s next on your list, then? Do I at least get to know?”
Cas eyes Sam’s cock meaningfully as he climbs onto the bed and makes himself at home between Sam’s thighs. “I’m having a difficult time making up my mind,” Cas admits, his breath ghosting along Sam’s cock. It twitches up towards Cas’s mouth, seeking entrance, and Cas rewards it with a soft, teasing lick from tip to base.
“Next time I’ll suck you off until you cry,” Cas says, so serious Sam knows it has to be true. Next time. Cas wants there to be a next time and, fuck, Sam’s heart is squeezing, warm and happy.
“Not this time, though?”
“No, I don’t think so,” Cas says and shoves Sam’s thighs up towards his chest. He strokes Sam’s hole lovingly and Sam can’t help but whine. “I’ve been dreaming about your ass almost as much as your mouth.”
“Like I said, you can have whatever -”
Cas shuts Sam up by diving in and dipping his tongue into Sam. Sam strains and keens, unable to properly communicate much of, well, anything. Sam’s been rimmed before but not quite like this, not with such messy, insistent, enthusiasm. Cas won’t let up, using his tongue like a dick. Sam’s hole is so wet now. Because of Cas. The noises Cas makes are so unbelievably filthy that Sam’s about ready to explode. And then Cas makes it even better (or worse, fuck) by sucking on Sam’s hole and the only reason he doesn’t come is Cas tugs on his balls, like he knows exactly how far he can push before Sam’s lost.
“Fuck, please. I need a finger or something, anything.”
Cas pulls his tongue out of Sam’s ass and gives Sam a grin that’s downright wolfish. “One finger,” Cas agrees, getting it nice and slick before pushing it into Sam. He keeps his head low, alternating between lazily licking around the finger buried deep in Sam’s hole and kissing and sucking on Sam’s perineum. Sam clenches on Cas rhythmically, needily, and Cas groans low. “I’m not sure I’m capable of leaving you once I have you. I might need to stay inside you for the rest of time.” Sam attempts to form words but what leaves him his broken moans. Will Cas count it as a ‘yes’? One can only hope.
By the time Cas has three fingers filling him up Sam’s practically levitating off the bed from sheer sexual frustration. He’s starting to regret not setting down some ground rules. At the very least ‘let me come before I lose my mind’ should have been on the list. “Cas,” he whines. He’s not sure why he even bothers. So many of his pleas have fallen on deaf ears, why would this be any different? “At least let me see you. I wanna see all of you.”
Cas hums thoughtfully, tilting his head in a signature Cas move as he seems to strongly consider Sam’s request. “I can do that,” he finally says and in an instant, Cas is naked. Naked and hard and perfect. There’s far more muscle on his body than one might expect given his preferred attire. Sam immediately wants to worship all of him with his tongue. Every single part.
“Looks like I’m not the only one getting desperate,” Sam says before he can think better of it. “No torturous striptease for me, huh?”
“No.” Cas smiles and removes his fingers from Sam’s hole. Sam’s legs are still pretzeled up near his chest, his ass entirely vulnerable and on display for Cas. “I can’t stay away any longer,” Cas admits but he doesn’t give Sam his cock. He doesn’t fuck Sam while he’s on his back. Instead, Cas situates himself beside Sam, sitting up with his back against the headboard and pats his lap. “Come here.”
Sam doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles off his back and into Cas’s lap as fast as his body will allow him, whimpering and whining when Cas’s cock catches on his sensitive rim. He attacks Cas’s neck and jawline with open-mouthed kisses and nuzzles his cheek before breathing into the shell of Cas’s ear. “Can I? Can I fuck myself on your dick now?”
“Yes. You’ve earned it. Good boy, Sam,” Cas says, his hands wandering all along Sam’s body. His waist, his chest. He pets Sam’s head. He’s exceedingly gentle and everywhere and it’s a balm to Sam’s soul. He melts, practically fucking weeps from the attention and praise.
“Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he gasps and then that’s it, he’s sinking down onto Cas’s thick cock inch by inch.
“No, Sam. Thank you.”
“Oh my god,” he breathes when Cas bottoms out. They’re both whimpering and shaking now, utterly stripped down and desperate.
Cas cups Sam’s face and Sam realizes he hadn’t really been looking at him. He’d been too strung out, barely able to stay in his body. Gazing into Cas’s eyes helps ground him. “I have made a grave error.”
“What is it, Cas?”
“I haven’t kissed you on the mouth. I must correct that.”
“I think you should.” Sam touches Cas’s bottom lip. They breathe in the same air as Sam begins to gently fuck himself on Cas’s fat cock. Cas wastes no time and ravages Sam’s mouth, wholly and completely dominating him. Every caress and forceful press of Cas’s tongue has Sam feeling like a star that burns it’s brightest right before death. He’s sure he’s making too much noise and his only source of comfort is the knowledge that the bunker is so vast it’s unlikely that Dean would hear a thing.
“You look and taste better than I could have ever hoped for,” Cas rasps against Sam’s lips. “You look perfect with my cock in you.”
“Fuck, Cas.” It’s straight off a video on PornHub but Sam could never laugh at Cas. Every syllable is far too genuine. Cas’s voice is slow and doesn’t waver. It can’t be denied, it’s Cas’s reality. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Tell me you want me,” Cas breathes, nipping the lobe of Sam’s ear sweetly. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“Mmm.” Sam slams down on Cas’s cock and there’s a circle of darkness creeping in around the edges of Sam’s vision. “What, no date first? You can’t know already, can you?”
“Say it, Sam.”
“God, I’m yours, of course I’m yours. Of course I want you.”
Cas growls and scoots his ass further down the bed then manhandles Sam off of Cas’s lap and onto his side. Soon, both of them are laying down but Sam doesn’t have time to grieve the loss of Cas’s cock, he shoves inside, breathing hot puffs of air on the nape of Sam’s neck. A strong, protective arm wraps around Sam’s middle as he cuddle-fucks him.
When Cas comes, he doesn’t pull out or go soft. And that’s when Sam notices his bedroom door. It’s cracked open and taunting him. “Hnn, Cas, what are you doing?”
Cas grinds slow and dirty against Sam’s ass. “I’m not even close to finished with you. We have a long way to go.”
“We should shut the door before… before we keep going. What if Dean sees? I don’t think he’d like it.”
“Dean will be fine,” Cas says and begins leaving love bites on Sam's neck.
Sam comes with a cry of Cas’s name and then he can’t see or hear anything at all.
Sam is in and out of consciousness, his hole sloppy and pink. Cas could heal him, he could wipe away Sam’s exhaustion - but Cas finds he doesn’t want to. Sam is gorgeous like this. A lovely mess. So Cas dons Sam’s robe and leaves the bedroom to find nourishment (for Sam). It’s also so he can talk to Dean.
Dean’s bedroom is open, asking for attention. Cas is all too eager to give it, poking his head inside. He smiles when he catches Dean on his belly, a slice of pizza stuffed in his mouth, eyes glued to his TV. Cas has no interest in piecing together what’s on it but given the screams, his guesses would be horror or porn.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas says. The robe is doing a poor job of keeping Cas covered - his chest is exposed. He hadn’t exactly made any efforts to tie it properly, so that is undoubtedly a large part of the problem, but Cas also likes to think it’s because of how big Sam is. Cas’s true form is larger than a Chrysler building. He likes that. But sometimes he likes feeling small, too.
“Hey -” Dean’s eyes land on Cas’s chest and there’s a flicker in his gaze that Cas is grateful he didn’t miss. It’s a reminder of why Cas is here. Dean likes us. “Jesus, you fucking did it, huh? That’s Sammy’s robe.”
“If you mean sex, you are correct.” Cas doesn’t bother holding back his grin.
“Was it fun?”
“Very. I couldn’t help but notice Sam’s door was open while taking him apart, though.”
“Okay?” Dean says and Cas notes the bite of defensiveness. The way the muscles in his face dance and his body stiffens.
“It didn’t start out that way.”
“What the hell are you trying to say?”
“You know.” Cas steps into Dean’s room.
“I fucking don’t,” Dean snaps and sits up. He scoots so he’s on the edge of his bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. “Why are you here, Cas?”
Cas licks his lips. He wishes he knew how to speak delicately, he wishes he could handle Dean with the care and gentleness that he apparently needs - but he can’t. So Cas marches over to him and drags his fingers across Dean’s cheek. Dean’s breath hitches. Perfect. “I think you and Sam want each other - so I’m inviting you in.”
“Cas,” Dean says and his harsh, biting tone is gone. All that’s left is desire and worry.
“Shh.” Cas swipes his fingers over Dean’s lips. “Sam likes having a cock in his mouth and he’s quite sensitive. You’d wreck him without even trying. I’m certain that, with our combined effort, we’d see something spectacular.”
Dean groans low and chases Cas’s fingers with his tongue, heated gaze meeting Cas’s. “Maybe. Fuck. I’ll think about it.”