Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sam knows three things. 

First, he is lying on the bed. This is a cold, hard fact. Facts are easier to handle, because they make sense. They don’t change, or try to trick him. He can use facts to make plans and execute them. The fact of him lying on the bed is simple. 

Second, Castiel is going down on him. The angel has been engaging in these little acts of service lately. Sam doesn’t know why, but he won’t reject it. Despite being a beginner, Cas makes it feel good. 

Finally, Sam knows that Dean will be coming back to the motel between five and thirty minutes from now. He’s out getting food. Dean likes greasy, flavorful foods, so he’s probably driven to town to pick up something good from the diner. That gives Sam some time to get his dick sucked. 

Sam places his hand on Castiel’s head. His hair is soft, and his scalp is warm underneath it. Sam always feels cold these days. He doesn’t know why. 

He pushes down, forcing Cas to open up his throat to take it all the way. Cas gags and drools, but he doesn’t resist. His big blue eyes lock onto Sam’s. Sam likes the way his eyes are watering. He’s working hard to make Sam feel good. And it feels great . Sam’s dick is stimulated by the tightness of Cas’s throat. 

***

Dean bursts into the motel room, hands full with brown paper bags of diner food. Sam is lying on the bed. 

Cas is… 

Dean drops the food. Fries spill out of one of the bags and onto the floor. 

“No,” he whispers. 

Cas pulls off of Dean’s little brother’s dick, finally realizing that Dean has just walked in. Semen— Dean’s little brother’s semen —dribbles down his chin. His face is blank. 

Dean gags. 

Sam hasn’t even put away his dick yet. 

“What–” he starts weakly, then stops. He knows what they were doing. He knows exactly what they were doing. 

Sam sits up, finally zipping up hid goddamn pants, and a sudden wave of anger rises in Dean’s chest. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Dean snaps. He’s looking at both of them. Both of them betrayed him. 

Sam quirks an eyebrow, as if he has no idea what Dean is talking about. 

Dean doesn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead, Dean grabs a book from the table and throws it at Sam’s face. Sam narrowly dodges it. 

“You defiled him! You used him!” Dean shouts. “He’s an angel, and you– you just…” 

Cas stands up. He has the same look on his face that Sam used to get when he lost a clip and he knew Dad was about to lose his shit over it. “Dean, it’s okay. I wanted to do it.” His voice is low and raw, giving Dean a much too clear picture of what exactly he was doing. 

It’s disgusting. 

“You don’t know what you want. Men aren’t supposed to— That’s my brother. ” Dean feels sick to his stomach. Everything is slipping out of his control.

“I know what I want, Dean. I am more powerful than you can imagine. I can take what I want,” Cas snarls. He’s close enough that Dean can smell that hot, crackling ozone that angels emanate. It makes Dean’s skin crawl.   

Then take it , Dean’s mind supplies. He doesn’t say it. He couldn’t say it. He’s breathless, frozen. Cas is right there, so close, and Dean wishes he knew what to do. Why would Cas want Sam? Cas was supposed to be Dean’s best friend. He was practically Dean’s brother , and yet… 

Dean swallows. The one time he has something of his own, someone who actually cares about him, and of course Sam has to go and steal it away. 

Dean doesn’t wait around. He knows when he’s not wanted. He turns on his heel and slams the door on the way out. Good riddance , he thinks. If Sam and Cas want to be disgusting together, that’s perfectly fine with Dean. He’ll find somewhere else to stay tonight, and when they’re ready to apologize they can find him. 

***

“Is he angry with me?” Cas asks quietly. It’s so different from the harsh tone he had adopted before. Sam doesn’t understand why. 

Sam doesn’t care, really. Dean can feel whatever he wants to feel; why should that affect what Sam and Cas do? “Come back to bed,” he says, voice low. He takes off his shirt. He knows he’s attractive. It’s simple fact. 

Cas doesn’t move. 

“Cas?” 

“I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just wanted to do something good for you.” 

Sam stands. He doesn’t know what’s wrong with Cas. “Dean will be fine. What matters now is that you’re here, and I’m here. Can’t we make the best of it?” He wraps his hands around Cas’s hips. They fit just right together. He looks down into Cas’s pretty blue eyes. 

It feels good to fuck. Not much makes Sam feel good, these days. Why waste time, when he and Cas could be fucking right now?

Cas doesn’t push Sam away, but he doesn’t perk up like the pretty girls Sam fucks. He just leans in, rests his forehead on Sam’s shoulder. 

“Why do I never do the right thing?” Cas murmurs. 

It’s starting to annoy Sam. 

“I am an angel of Heaven. I lead an army. But you and Dean… I don’t know what to do.” 

Sam pats Cas awkwardly on the back. “You’re doing just fine.” God, all he wants is to be inside the little angel, or to have the angel inside of him. Anything, as long as he got something . “You’re okay, pal. You don’t have to worry so much. I’m here.” 

“You are here,” Cas whispers. “You are here, and Dean is gone. Dean left. I can not be tasked with waiting, watching, for another eternity.” 

It’s one of those classic Castiel rambles. Sam doesn’t care. He just hopes it leads Cas to realizing how good it would feel to—

Sam’s train of thought is cut off by Cas surging up to crush their lips together. It’s not a very good kiss, but it’s full of desperation. Sam likes that. He wants Cas needy, vulnerable, ready to give it to him.