"I'm ready, Sam."
"I'm… I'm not sure if I am."
How can Cas be ready for another go already? Sam only just heard the cry of his release no less than two minutes ago. Does nothing tire an angel out during their annual love fests?
He and Dean left tired behind two hours ago. Or so Sam thought. Time has lost all meaning in this room; it no longer exists. A new president could have been elected for all he knows.
For the moment Sam rested alone on the bed beside the one Dean and Cas occupied, resting here meaning his body is so worn out he can only blink. He might have limbs, he might not. Dean wasn't looking much better, forehead and chest coated with sweat, eyes half open and trying so hard to speak actual words and not something like "Nuh mmm na huuh min na."
"I can heal you if it's necessary." He now sat innocently enough next to Sam like he were injured after a more gruesome hunt. And the son of a bitch was still hard. He just came and he's near fully erect again. Cas isn't an angel - he's a damn robot.
"I don't think this is something you can poof away–"
"Of course it is." Unlike the caress of a post-hunt heal, this was only a tap on the temple. Less love, more urgency. Granted the cramping and ache in his muscles dulled considerably, Sam was still feeling… empty. He wouldn't be able to perform the way Cas would like him to, no matter how revitalized he felt.
"Okay, it worked a little. I'm just not sure if I'm up to it."
Cas's face said he was considering his options, but he never broke eye contact with Sam while doing it which was more or less (more) unsettling. In the end, he stood up to straddle Sam's hips, positioning himself right on top of him where it mattered most. The skin was wet against Sam, Cas's hole and thighs slick with the brothers' come, and probably from Cas himself.
Guiding Sam's hands over his legs and finally to his hips, Cas began a slow grind, with the intent of getting himself off or getting Sam hard again; he wasn't entirely sure. Being so wet already, he slid effortlessly around Sam. Sam had to laugh at himself: was it really that easy to turn him on, or was it just Cas?
The rocking increased in speed and Cas took himself into his own hand, grip firm and strokes more maddening to Sam than they were him. Though Sam knew for certain Cas would not be able to orgasm without a partner, pre-come still began to leak from the head, most of it collecting on Cas's hand, looking syrupy sweet and begging to be cleaned. He needed to be cleaned. Yeah. Dean was probably passed out by now, so who else could take care of Cas?
Insatiable horn dog or not, Cas has a way about him that drives a person absolutely mad.
Sam pushed himself up, his chest nearly touching Cas's own, and brought the sticky hand to his mouth, licking two fingers before taking them into his mouth. Tasty as usual. Cas seemed pleased with himself, as he should be. He dragged his fingers along Sam's tongue one last time before replacing them with his tongue, his moan vibrating throughout Sam's entire body. And his hips never stopped, no. They became more forceful as Sam reacted more positively to him in mind and body.
He pushed Cas back to lay down, his head hanging off the bed a little. Not that he seemed to care. It wasn't his intention to do so, but damn if he wasn't tempted anyway: he knew Cas was used and wet and loose, he couldn't resist to press two digits inside of Cas, who wasn't expecting it at all. The angel looked up with glassy eyes and grinned as much as his sex-blown mind could. Next round, Cas. Promise.
"Eh ahhna uu sah, 'ammy?"
"Not sure what you said, Dean," Sam said positioning himself between Castiel's legs, "but I think I agree."