Cas downed another bottle of beer before switching to the whiskey, which fizzed and burned in his throat. The stars shone coldly above him, and the aching in his chest intensifying. He let out a noise that sounded like something between a hysteric giggle and a soft whimper. All he had was Dean now, and he knew that he would never be content with that.
Sam had become Lucifer a long time ago, though that didn't stop Cas from dreaming about the ex-hunter, sometimes confusing the hazel-eyed ex-human with the devil. Sometimes it was Lucifer running his fingers lightly over his skin, whispering seductive promises, making Cas' skin crawl yet tremble in anticipation. Sometimes, it was his Sam, holding him in his sweet and endearing embrace, his touch calming and soothing. It still made Cas cringe when he knew that he would never feel Sam or Lucifer touch him that way, that the next time he saw Sa- Lucifer again, he would be under orders to kill him.
Cas took another swig of the whiskey, relishing the way it burned in his throat. As he felt himself passing out for the third time in two days, he thought he felt a ghostly touch brush over his cheek, and he couldn't decide nor cared if it was his Sam or Lucifer.