"Dean, please."
"Look, Cas. It's just three more days of crap cable and TV dinners. You'll live."
"Yeah, Cas. We'll be back in a few days."
"Keep your girlfriend away from the archives."
"She's not my girlfriend."
"Whatever. We'll be back."
it was Castiel's second week cradling that damn leg. He felt defeated, like the fact that he was hampered was a deciding factor and that his life was surely about to end.
He doubted three days, though he was able to move around the bunker he still felt like everything was falling apart. He'd never been handicapped like this physically, and mentally he felt worthless. But when is that new?
He perked his head up when he saw Meg emerge from the depths of the bunker, plates in her hands and her expression unreadable.
"Sam and Dean are gone...if that's what you're wondering."
"Good," she muttered, sitting beside him on the couch and handing him a plate./ "I was about done with their arguing."
"They do it often. I've gotten used to it," he picked at the pizza slice she handed him. He watched her, amused at the angry expression on her face. She'd spent the last few days on lock down when Dean had caught her rummaging in the archives, threatening to exorcise her on the spot.
He liked it when she was angry. It brought that darkness to her vessel that he couldn't see anymore, the darkness he missed watching swim under her skin.
"So..."
"How's the leg?"
"It doesn't hurt. Sam did a wonderful job casting it..." he looked down at the large plaster casing that seemed to choke the life out of his foot.
"So it wont move? Wont hurt?"
"Not that I'm sure off. Why?"
She didn't answered, instead, she knocked his plate on the floor, tackling his face and feeling him fall down on his back on the couch.
"The floor..." he muttered, breaking the kiss.
"Ignore it."
It was a clash of tongues and he felt her crawl over him, letting her run the show as he adjusted to keep his leg straight on the side of the couch. Meg's nails dug at his chest under his shirt, and just below her she could feel Cas harden under the thin of his boxers.
"How long has it been?" she purred against his neck, balling his shirt in her hands and throwing it behind her.
"A week...maybe two?" he replied, aiding her in undressing and taking time to look at her. "I have a hard time keeping track..."
"Too long."
He felt her hands brush the hairs by his cock and goosebumps form from the cold of her hands. Human warmth clashed with demon darkness and Castiel felt her straddle him, slowly sliding him up inside her. He felt her foot brush his plaster and he let out a soft groan.
"Sucks you weren't up for this weeks ago, Clarence," she murmured against his lips, feeling his hands slide over her hips and thighs. She rocked over him, listening to his breathing quicken and his heart rate explode. Such an excited little human angel. "To be honest, I thought the monster dry spell would drive you mad."
"I never said it didn't." He grabbed at her, wanting her lower, snapping softly at her skin with his teeth and pushing on her hard with his hands. She obeys, lowering herself and letting him lean up to kiss her neck at odd angles. The prick of his stubble was both ticklish and arousing and she let out a chuckle as she forced a hard buck.
"Though I can't fault you for it, bum leg and all. Makes me actually miss the pompous asshole angel. But to be honest..." she heard him whimper when he pulled off him, sliding down his body while dragging a nail down his chest and licking her lips. "I rather like you all broken."
"Meg..."
"Hold on, impatient asshole," she smirked, sliding down his body, careful not to jerk his leg in the process. "I love me a good bone."
"The leg or my..."
She blinked. "Good for you, getting that," with quiet softness she sunk down to his cock, touching the soft head with her tongue before enveloping her lips around the organ, feeling Castiel grab for her hair as she moved up and down. He felt her smile on his organ and just that was almost enough to push him over the-
"Damn it. sorry Cas I left the...Oh," Castiel tore his eyes away from the top of Meg's head to look at Sam, stealing a glance at Meg who still had the tip of Castiel's penis hanging from her mouth.
"I just um...left Dad's journal here..." he blinked, grabbing the book off the coffee table, never looking away from them. "I'll just...um.."
Meg rolled Castiel from her mouth, wiping it before glaring at the Winchester. "You done?"
"Um," slowly, he backed out, closing the door before looking at them one more time.
"That was awkward."
"When is it not?"
"I believe we forget, as Dean likes to remind me, that others live here."
"What are you suggesting? You and me go and get a pocket fence and life happy, Winchester free lives?"
"I was more suggesting we use my room, when my leg heals."
She considered it before dipping her head back down. "Good plan."