Title: The decisions that we make, part two of six in the "Bad Things" 'verse
Author: Sephirothflame
Rating: R
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Sam/Castiel
Warning(s): PWP
Spoiler(s): 5.15, "Dead Men Don't Wear Plaid"
Word Count: About 1,782
Beta Reader: Waveringphoenix
Rants: More shameless porn. I should be ashamed of myself. I swear I'm working towards a plot, though, it might be another two parts before I get there.
Summary: Sam's trying to wash zombie brain out of his hair when Castiel shows up.
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN. There'd be more naked Cas if I did. /grins
If Sam has to be honest, there are a few things he hates more than zombies; like witches, or demons, or the way the Impala smells after Dean gets a burger with everything on it. Right now though, he's thinking, more than he hates zombies, he hates cleaning zombie gray matter out of his hair. Oh, and he really hates his brother Dean for shoving him out of the way and taking the first shower. A guy shouldn't have to sit around and watch cable with brain in his hair because his older brother is a douche bag.
Dean wasn't being as much of a bag of douche as he could have been, all things considered, which is kind of nice. There was still hot water, which was rare, considering this was Dean, and Sam thinks he might be able to forgive him for stealing the first shower.
He has just started to relax under the spray, in a decidedly much better mood now that he's clean, when his mind starts to wander. It's been a long week, zombies notwithstanding, and they haven't heard from Castiel since the whole Famine incident. Which, probably was Sam's fault, but it wasn't like Castiel had told him to stop.
Castiel. There's a happy albeit confusing thought. Sam knows he should be more concerned with the fact he might have just lost them their biggest ally in this stupid apocalypse but he can't think about the angel without remembering the look in Castiel's eyes as he jerked him off under the table.
Which is a really happy thought and Sam briefly wonders if he has time to jerk off before Dean yells at him through the door that it's time to go. The answer is probably no, Dean's been kind of a bitch, and Sam turns around to shut the water off and almost has a heart attack.
Standing fully dressed and completely dry under the spray of warm water is Castiel, and if looks could kill, Sam should probably drop dead right about now.
"What the hell-" Sam stutters, surprised to see the angel standing so close to him and in such an intimate setting.
"What have you done to me?" Castiel demands cutting Sam's sentence off.
"How long have you been standing there?" Sam counters. It's weird, he thinks. He's taller than Castiel, he knows he is, but the angel is intimidating even in the small space, easily cowing him into the corner of the shower.
Castiel doesn't answer him, which doesn't surprise Sam in the least, but it's intimidating to have Castiel staring at him so intensely when he's naked and sopping wet.
"Cas," Sam says, swallowing. "What's going on?" He knows it probably shouldn't be, but this freakily dominant Castiel is turning him on way more than it should be. It's got to be painfully obvious, even for someone as seemingly oblivious as Castiel.
Castiel moves his hands to touch Sam, and then hesitates, looking suddenly unsure of himself. "What have you done to me?" Castiel asks, softer this time, and he goes from looking intimidating too terrified in the blink of the eye. Castiel's got the most expressive eyes Sam's ever seen.
Well, this has got to be the most awkward thing to happen to Sam in a long time.
"Cas," Sam says softly, lifting a hand to touch the angel's face. The angel's eyes go wide, but he lets Sam touch him, staring. Castiel's skin is hot and Sam fights back a shudder. He's cold and wet, and without thinking, he moves closer to Castiel, presses against him to feel the heat radiating off of him.
"Sam?" Castiel asks softly, craning his neck to look Sam in the eyes.
Sam can't meet Castiel's gaze, not if they're going to be standing this close to each other. He acts without thinking, closing his eyes and kisses Castiel. Castiel's lips are dry and soft under Sam's and Sam isn't sure if the angel isn't kissing him back because he doesn't want to or because he doesn't know how. He sighs against Castiel's lips before breaking the kiss.
Castiel is still staring at him.
"Do you want me to stop?" Sam asks, which is funny, because he's pretty sure he asked Castiel the same question last time, and once again Castiel shakes his head, 'no'. "What do you want?"
"I don't know," Castiel replies after a moment's hesitation. "You confuse me. You..." He furrows his brow, trying to think of how to explain himself. He sighs, and looks at Sam pathetically. "What have you done to me?" He asks for a third time.
Sam opts to kiss him again, instead of answering, and after a moment's hesitation Castiel does his best to mimic Sam's actions. He traces his tongue against Castiel's bottom lip, surprised when the angel parts his lips, and Sam slips his tongue into Castiel's mouth. Their tongues touch, timidly at first, and Castiel makes a pathetic sound. His inexperience is more adorable than erotic, but Sam won't let that deter him. He thumbs the angel's cheekbone before dropping his hands to push Castiel's trench coat off of his shoulders.
"What are you doing?" Castiel gasps, pulling away from Sam to fix his coat.
"This works better if you're naked, too," Sam replies.
Castiel stares at him then, blankly, before letting his gaze drop. He flushes a brilliant red, as if just realizing Sam's naked, and it goes straight to Sam's groin.
He leans forward to kiss Castiel again, and this time the angel lets Sam push the trench coat from his shoulders and it falls to the shower floor with a surprisingly loud 'thump'. His suit coat follows shortly after, and it's only then that Sam realizes Castiel's hands are still at his sides. Sam bites Castiel's lower lip harder than he needs to and Castiel whimpers, pressing himself tighter against Sam. It makes taking his shirt off difficult, but Sam is nothing if not dedicated and both tie and shirt soon make it to the steadily growing pile at their feet.
"You can touch, you know," Sam says when they part for air, licking his lips as he guides Castiel back, careful not to trip over the angel's clothes, until Castiel's back is against the wall, Sam pressed against him.
Castiel makes a small sound, one Sam isn't sure how to classify, but tentatively puts his hands at Sam's hips.
Sam laughs, pressing his lips against Castiel's again in a quick kiss before leaving a trail of kisses across his cheek and down his jaw. He nips gently, enjoying the way Castiel squirms beneath him as he runs his hands across the angel's torso and down his side. His skin feels like it's on fire where it's pressed against Castiel's. He wants to touch every inch of him, wants to leave more than a few bite marks down the angel's neck and across his chest, but he doesn't have the patience for it. Not when Castiel is arching against him, moaning in his ear like he is, anyways.
It isn't fair, Sam thinks, that Castiel's belt and slacks are still dry under his own slick hands as he undoes them. The angel is just as hard as he is, Sam can feel it even through the layers, and he barely has the coherence to tug and shove the angel's slacks and briefs down to his knees before he wraps his hand around the angel's cock.
"Sam," Castiel moans into his ear, hands moving from Sam's hips to Sam's back, struggling to find purchase as his nails slip and dig into slick skin.
Sam grunts in response before tugging one of Castiel's arms down, curling his finger's around Castiel's hand, and finally wrapping the angel's hand around his own cock. Castiel gasps and Sam has to wonder if Castiel has ever even touched himself let alone another guy and buries his face in the crook of Sam's neck, pressing sloppy kisses against Sam's skin. It's a nice feeling, something Sam can get used to, but now isn't really the time to think about that, not when he's got a fistful of angel.
Castiel's got a one track mind, apparently, at least when it comes to this. He's bucking and writhing under Sam's expert touch (Sam's never done this with another guy before, doesn't want to think about why he's so good at this) but Castiel doesn't seem to have the focus to return the favor beyond a few halfhearted strokes.
"Cas," Sam groans pathetically, biting none-too-gently the angel's shoulder. Come on, he thinks, because it isn't like it's that complicated. Castiel makes a pathetic sound, something that was too much of a moan to be a whimper, and Sam squeezes the hand he has wrapped around Castiel's fingers tighter.
Like last time, it doesn't take much from Sam to get Castiel off. The angel is clinging to him, nails digging into Sam's back and he makes the most delicious sounds ever when he comes. Then - it's messy and sloppy and not the best Sam's ever had but he manages to help Castiel get him off in a reasonable amount of time. It's not mind blowing, but Sam slumps against Castiel exhausted all the same.
They share a number of surprisingly gentle kisses as they both struggle to catch their breaths, resting forehead to forehead. Sam sighs, smiling against Castiel's lips, and he can feel Castiel's lips twitch into a smile in return.
He wants to say something, is about to, but when he opens his mouth to tell Castiel something the angel's gone and Sam slips and bangs his head against the shower wall. A string of curses spills from his lips, and he presses a hand to his head, wincing. He turns around, but Castiel and his clothes are gone, and it's just Sam standing under the luke-warm spray from the shower.
"What the fuck?" Sam asks no one in particular.
