A/N: Two loosely-connected Samifer drabbles I doodled up during class when I was supposed to be doing srs physics. Ah well.
It takes Sam a long time to realise that Hell is what you make it.
When he realised that, though, understands that with focus and determination he can mould the Cage to his will - not completely, but enough - he uses that knowledge with a confidence bordering on brutality. For the first time in a long time, he does not have to cower in a corner; he can face the Devil on an even footing, a feat few human's can boast of.
He pushes Lucifer up against a wall, pins him there, bodies tight together - the archangel's cool is a welcome contrast to the constant heat and Sam welcomes it, revels in it. He pushes harder, wills the Devil to feel it, to feel the hard dig of forearms and fingers into his not-flesh, and is rewarded with an entirely human noise from Lucifer's lips, sharp and confused.
"See," he snarls, dragging at the clothes he's sure he only imagines Lucifer wearing, in the same way he only imagines the fact he's shaped like a human, because the cold is nice but not enough, he's still too hot, still needs more of that ice. "See, I've learnt. I can fight back. I can do this, see?" and he drags fingernails down Lucifer's bare chest, watches the red lines appear and presses himself closer, pulling at his imagined shirt and jeans until it's just flesh against naked flesh and not even room for breath in between, because the cold's not enough, it will never be enough.
"This is what you tried to destroy," breathes Sam, as he tugs at Lucifer's cock in a motion too vicious and angry to call stroking, but it's got the Devil writhing underneath him all the same, all clothes and cold skin and broken, reluctant noises.
"This is what I would have lost. This."
He punctuates the last word with a twist of his wrist and Lucifer chokes, eyes rolling back until Sam grabs his head and pulls at the hair. "Look at me!" he snaps, but there's no anger in his voice, only 's not the best of humanity, he knows - oh god does he know - but right now he has to be, to do this, to make Lucifer understand. He has to, and he has a feeling he's failing horribly, because is this the best of humanity? Is this really the best they are, anger and need and terror and lust and desperation and hunger, all twisted up into a painful ball of confusion and tossed out into the world to cope, to try and make sense if it all-
He bites his lip against the sob in his throat, screws his eyes shut, and misses the sight of the Devil, wide-eyed and terrified, shaking his way through his first climax.