spinspinsugar | fic: sam+castiel. "He woke me up again."

He woke me up again.

Sam/Castiel. 1,035 words. R.
Summary: He woke me up again to say: Halle, Halle, Hallelujah. Holy, holy is the sound.
Beta'd by the gracious and lovely

oxoniensis &

danegen. ♥ (Any remaining errors are my own.)

Sam woke to an empty room, a familiar unpleasant coppery taste on his tongue. He walked rigidly to the bathroom; closed the door quietly behind him. Stared silently in the mirror for some minutes, his reflection menacing and slightly sad. Blood had snaked down his chin. Demon blood. Castiel's words rung so loudly in his ears he could've sworn the angel was right beside him. The boy with the demon blood. He scrubbed his tongue clean.

__________

"Dean calls you Cas. Sometimes," Sam said vaguely. He studied Castiel's face, admired the way the light cast dark shadows across strong cheekbones. "Tell me. Did you ever fuck my brother?"

Castiel made a soft sound. Sam couldn't decipher what it meant.

"I'd understand, you know. Almost everyone does. Hell, I do." Sam smirked. "I'll bet that turns your stomach, doesn't it? But not because it's a sin against God."

"My heart weeps for you, Sam Winchester."

"You don't have a heart," Sam said darkly. He imitated Castiel's voice: "'Sam Winchester: the boy with the demon blood.' Is that all I am to you?"

Another indistinguishable sound escaped Castiel's lips.

"Is that all you see?" Sam looked skywards. "Is that all they see?"

Castiel didn't answer, so Sam flicked his wrist, and Castiel was instantly pressed against the dirty wall.

"Clever trick. Now let me go."

"No." Sam cocked his head. "Why does this work on you? You're an angel. This shouldn't work on you."

"You're stronger than you realize."

"Or you're humoring me. That's cute."

He inched closer, and his fingertips grazed Castiel's stubbled face.

"I wish I had something pure inside of me," Sam said. His index finger traveled down Castiel's front. Castiel's eyes shut tightly.

"What is it that you want?" he asked.

Sam smiled patiently. "I just told you. Pay attention."

Castiel turned; avoided Sam's eyes. Sam fixed his gaze -- cold, calculating -- as he once again placed his fingertips -- cool, controlled -- on Castiel's flawless skin.

He slid alongside Castiel when Castiel failed to respond, chuckled softly, asked (demanded) whisper-quiet: "Tell me, angel, does all the blood rush down when I...?"

His hand enveloped Castiel's cock -- his vessel's, anyway -- and he was surprised to find it hard against his palm.

Castiel groaned.

"Well, well, well."

"Sam. Please."

"Please what?" Sam let go. "Answer the question."

"You know that it does."

"Good. You may now pass go."

Sam flicked his wrist once more and turned away as Castiel tumbled to the ground.

"I'd like you on your knees, please."

"I am not your puppet."

"No. You're not." Sam spun around, knelt beside Castiel. "But you're still here."

"I never..." Castiel trailed off, unable to bring himself to utter the word fucked, which was a slight disappointment to Sam. He wanted to know what it sounded like, wanted so badly for it roll off the angel's pretty pink tongue. "And I do not want to. Not with him. Not with you."

"Yeah?"

Sam brushed bruised lips against Castiel's, and Castiel's parted. Inhaled. Exhaled. Castiel finally complied, and Sam's body shuddered. Their roles reversed. Sam's eyelids fluttered shut.

Castiel said nothing as he unbuttoned Sam's jeans.

(This is what you want, isn't it?

Yes.

Louder, please.

Oh god yes.)

"Will you leave a scar on my body?" Sam hadn't meant to utter it out loud, hadn't meant to ask it at all, and his face flushed when Castiel's eyes flicked upwards. "I--"

Castiel hushed him with a kiss.

Then Castiel stood up, and time slowed. Sam worried Castiel would just leave him there, unsatisfied and shivering on the floor, jeans unbuttoned and looking foolish. But Castiel held out his hand, and Sam took hold and was pulled upwards. And now Sam felt faint. Faint and see-through. It almost seemed as though he was flickering between two worlds. He found it impossible to stop shaking and wondered how this was possible when just a few minutes ago... Oh, Christ. And Castiel knew. He knew, yet still remained. Sam eyed the bed, then looked directly into Castiel's eyes, his own eyes ablaze. What a mistake that was. Castiel sort of sighed, and flipped Sam over, against the wall. Sam wondered--briefly--if this was deliberate as his hands slapped hard against the wall, palms slick, barely holding on, and Castiel was hard against him.

"Where do you want it?"

Sam blinked. Sputtered. He'd heard him wrong. Must've. Then... oh. He pictured Dean's seared flesh, rising just above the surface. Castiel etched on his brother's skin. Where did he want it?

In response, Sam turned around, and bit Castiel hard on the left shoulder. Of course, Castiel didn't bleed. Castiel's skin didn't even break. Sam imagined what it might look like if it had--deep dark red oozing through--and he lapped up the spill eagerly, lovingly. Then begged silently for his turn. He'd bleed. He didn't care. He wanted to. Castiel dropped to his knees (finally), and pricked Sam's wrist with perfect, sharp teeth: a hot-blooded vampire. That an angel would dare taste his tainted, dirty, awful blood... Sam dropped to his knees, and lay Castiel down on the floor covering Castiel's mouth with his own, and please, the bed, please now. Sam was certain Castiel's refusal of the bed was deliberate. As if he could deny their actions, or make them appear slight, if they didn't share the bed. Maybe all Castiel felt was pity, and not whatever this new feeling was that had suddenly rose in Sam's chest... this endless calm. And Castiel said okay, not aloud, but Sam heard it just the same, and then everything moved so fast... Sam remembered they fell on gray cotton with frayed edges. The bed was unmade. Sheets all tangled in a clump, and fallen to the floor, but who cared about them? Deeper, deeper, higher, higher, until he reached the highest point and when he returned back to earth, back to his body, Sam's face was damp with tears.

__________

"Convincing. Really."

"Do you feel better?"

"Yes. ...And you?"

Castiel's lips curved up at the corners. "It has been a long time since someone asked me that."

"Cas... You could've stopped me. If you wanted to."

"Yes. I know."

Sam smiled.