The stench of alcohol is heavy in the air, distastefully mixed with dirty laundry, cheap motel bleach and sweat.

An angel proves to be incredibly pliant especially when he has more liquor than water in his system.

The once powerful being sways and through the small bit of humour it brings Sam's worried. He gently eases a hand out to steady Castiel's form.

"Easy..." The hunter speaks, a somewhat awkward laugh shuffling alongside the word.

"Are you okay?" Sam asks, his eyebrows raising a fraction.

He silently awaits an answer his head moving jaggedly out of habit as Castiel moves closer to him and in turn coaxes Sam closer with an inclination of his fingers. The brunette eases in, inhaling once his chin is hovering by Castiel's neck. Vodka. Great.

"Don't ask stupid questions." Cas condescends, his voice holding ripples of exhaustion.

The Winchester brother pulls away a sigh escaping his mouth.

"Tell me what you need." The angel still finds a way of sounding superior even though he's wasted.

"There – There have been these..these demon attacks- massive. Right on the edge of town and we can't figure out why there-. " Castiel cuts him off and Sam's grateful for it. He's stumbling over his words and pointlessly repeating himself. People are dying left right and centre but all he's itching to ask is if Castiel's alright even if he receives another sarcastic retort in return for his concern.

"Any sign of angels?" Cas queries.

Sam inhales.

"Sort of, they've been speaking to this prophet." The taller male explains, his eyes following Castiel's form.

"Who?" The angel croaks out.

"This girl...Leah Gideon."

"She's not a prophet."

The alcohol must be affecting the angel more than Sam thought. The hunter rests a hand on Castiel's shoulder his thumb gently connecting with his friend's collarbone. He sees Castiel's head lolling back as the angel looks skyward, his blue eyes gleaming against the cheap motel lights.

"I'm pretty sure she is...visions...headaches..the whole package." Sam's voice fades at the unimpressed look on his companions face.

"The names of all the prophets – their seared into my brain. Leah Gideon is not one of them." Cas states with conviction.

Sam doesn't need to be told twice he trusts Castiel and is there for on alert.

"Then what is she?"

"I suggest you start researching." The angel advises.

It's been several hours since Castiel arrived at the motel and since then himself and Sam had been looking through every book the hunter had. The angel brought a hand up to cradle his throat before running his hand against it in a soothing motion. It felt incredibly raw and aired out. He frowned slightly; he was feeling new things all the time- annoying insistent physical sensations. The streaming burn when he downed a shot of cheap whiskey. A dulling sting when a firm calloused palm connected with his shoulder. The vibrating shocks of pain when hardened knuckles collided with his vessel's body.

Before his grace started failing him he felt...emotionally. He hadn't realised they were emotions until he met the Winchesters and became better at defining exactly what they were. When he was in heaven that was content. When he was given Dean Winchester as a charge and had to ask the hunter to do unforgivable things – that was doubt. When he handed Anna over to heaven. That was regret. Was self loathing. Was –

"Here." Sam whispers his fingers dangling a glass of water in front of Castiel.

The angel looks at the glass puzzlingly before looking up at Sam.

"For your throat." The hunter answers the inquisitive look with a shrug.

"Thank you." Castiel offers, more out of habit than anything else, he grasps the glass before taking a tentative sip. He immediately closes his eyes at the relief the liquid brings and downs the rest of the cool beverage the tightness and dryness in his throat soothing almost instantly.

"Alcohol dehydrates your system." Sam informs unnecessarily before eyeing the angel, a question teetering on his lips.

"Hey...are you sure you're okay?"

Castiel exhales sharply through his nose as a sarcastic answer bubbles its way up his throat. Instead he gets up from his seating position on the sofa in favour of going over to the sink. He fills his glass however leaves it resting on the desktop.

Sam silently walks over to him, the angel unaware of the others movements until he feels Sam's body heat behind him. Cas turns then, inclines his head slightly to look into the hunters eyes.

"Is there anything I can get you...like paracetamol or whatever?" The brunette kindly offers. Castiel contemplates the question.

Or whatever.

What does he want?

He wants to feel something other than what he's feeling. This sense of hopelessness and depression is overwhelming, is causing him to lash out - to indulge in alcohol and displays of self pitying – traits which are far too human and yet he doesn't feel better. The only thing he hasn't tried are the pleasures of flesh, are the slide of skin and the emotional charge of lust.

Alcohol still swimming through his system Castiel lifts a slightly shaking hand before resting it on Sam's waist, his hand travelling up the slight jut of the hunter's hip before smoothing his fingers up Sam's side, stopping when he reaches the hunters neck.

"I just want to feel something." Is what the angel says before he repeats it and every time he does the words are slurred due to incomprehensible amounts of alcohol.

Sam's chest tightens.

It's obvious what the angel is implying. Obvious what he wants and Sam finds himself wanting it too.

Castiel's trench coat is carefully slid down his shoulders, the rustle of fabric disturbing their simultaneous breathy exhalations.

There's no resistance just pliable limbs and the slight shift of bodies.

'Let me get Dean.' Sam's tempted to say but he really doesn't want to. He wants to make Castiel feel better – he knows he can and if a compassionate touch and assuring words are what he needs Sam's willing to give that to him.

This is wrong but he allows it, allows the angel to rip his clothes away in a rush of scrambling fingers, scratching because their too eager and too sloppy and too inexperienced to know any better.

"Easy..." Sam whispers, his previous words repeated but in an entirely different context.

"I just need." Castiel starts before he stops, seemingly unaware of how to ask for something as simple as sex.

"I know." Sam says as he rests his hands over Castiel's where the angel's nimble fingers are pulling at Sam's zipper.

"Don't rush it...just feel." Sam gently orders as he removes their clothing slowly.

When their finally both naked Castiel shys away for a moment before tentatively lifting a hand his hooded eyes following his movements. He splays his fingers when he reaches Sam's upper arm and the hunter begrudgingly realises that it's the exact same place the angel touched Dean, the exact same place the angel marked Dean.

He pushes Castiel against the counter then, pressing his much larger body against the other mans. It takes the angel a moment to feel it and just a moment more to revel in it for the next he moans - a deep throaty sound that is so raw it's painfully innocent.

"How does it feel?" Sam finds himself asking because he wants to know, needs to know that his friend if enjoying this, is enjoying the rough friction of their dry skin grazing against one another.

"Hot."

Good enough.

Sam continues rubbing against him, one hand desperately clinging onto Castiel's hip whiles the other shifts his head so he's able to bite along the angel's neck.

Cas's laboured breathing gently blows at the wispy bits of Sam's hair as the bites move up his neck to just below his ear lobe.

The sounds of their skin brushing and connecting seems so loud in the small motel room. Castiel's foggy brain registers sensations but they seem late placed. He's been pressed against the kitchen counter for some time now but he's only just realised how cold it is. Only just realised how warm Sam is. Only just realised how faithless he feels.

He just wants it to stop. Just wants his brain to stop relaying all the emptiness he feels, all the failed attempts at finding his father. The angel inches his head inwards enabling him to nip at Sam's ear. Seemingly pleased by the move the hunter's body jolts.

It's rough after this, sweat dampened hands grasping at naked flesh as Sam manoeuvres them over to the bed.

Castiel's skin is smooth but the muscles underneath are hard and slightly tensed. He's on his back in no time pushing up onto his elbows, his aquamarine orbs watching as Sam approaches and places a dry soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The angel closes his eyes, pursing his lips slightly in an attempt at copying Sam's movements. Sam shifts, his lips closing over Castiel's. It's a light pressure kiss, a comforting gesture which eases the tightness in Cas's body. The mattress sinks, flattening out as the hunter climbs upon the bed his body hovered over his friends.

There's so many things Sam wants to do. So many places he wants to start. He knows the mechanics of sex between two males but he lacks certain experience in techniques – like blowjobs and how he finds someone's prostate. He decides to keep it simple. Using one hand he runs it up Cas's leg caressing the back of his thigh before his fingers caress the others buttocks. He keeps his hand there his fingers rubbing against the round globe of flesh as his other hand cards into thick brown locks.

Sam's thin lips kiss at Castiel's neck, the hunter's movements becoming feverish as his kisses quicken in pace. He alternates between running his mouth and nose up and down the angel's neck and using his tongue to apply wet swipes against the angel's jugular.

The movements are odd but they send a jolt of hot pleasure through Castiel as if boiling water is travelling through his veins igniting his body in tingles of contentment.

So this is what lust feels like.

Sam's hand moves down from Cas's ass where he kneads the man's leg, wrapping his large hand around the inside of Cas's knee as he pulls the angel further down the mattress until his head meets the pillow. Castiel can no longer see Sam, his eyes now gazing wide eyed at the ceiling.

Sam's mouth travels to a nipple then, giving an appreciative long lick his head moving up so he can easily swipe the pink appendage against the entire nub. It hardens instantly and a soft moan catches in the angel's throat. The noise flattened out as he tries to keep hold of the new sensations coursing through him. Cas gasps up at the ceiling as Sam continues with his motions, his bottom teeth scraping a nipple as he gently rubs his body against Castiel's the feel of warm skin more than Castiel imagined it ever could be. He shudders at every lick. Rolls his hips at every touch. Twitches at every bite. He's hard and it's the most glorious thing Sam has ever seen. A thick, hardened shaft, a pinkened glistening head. A hot arousal that stands proud between trembling thighs and rough curly pubic hairs.

Sam spread's Castiel's legs, dimly noticing that the angel has goose bumps spiralling up the inside of his thighs, before his fingers probe the man's entrance. Before he manages to breech him he notices the others passage feels soft and somewhat velvety but he's dry and Sam will need something to help prepare him.

"I'll be right back." The hunter whispers as he shoots up off the bed, his erection insistently pushing upwards. Sam reaches into Dean's duffel and quickly locates a no brand name watermelon scented lube. It's a lot more watery then he would like but regardless it'll work. The smell is slightly nauseating at first but when Castiel squirms on the bed his hips thrusting insistently causing the attractive indents of his hip bones to jut Sam ignores the dissatisfaction of cheap lube. It takes several attempts but his fingers finally manage to break through the tight ring of muscle which protests against the invasion of spidery digits.

Castiel's eyes clench shut as he's prepared - it's a strange feeling, every time Sam's fingers retract his anal passage attempts to shrink back until its forcefully stretched open again.

"How does it feel?"

Again with the questions.

"It's burns slightly."

Sam adds more lube before pressing his fingers in again, rubbing in circles when the entire length of his fingers press in. Excess lube dribbles out before it languidly rolls down Cas's crevice. A whimper of complete and utter sexual abandonment escapes the angel's plump lips as he breathily pants, sloppily pushing his lips against the hunters as Sam leans down for a kiss.

Everything feels new and hot...so so hot. But the sensations are numbed. Castiel feels like the alcohol has added another few layers of skin onto him but his insides feel sickly, feel heavy and he distantly realises that he's defiling himself to the point of no return.

He knows his father is out there. Joshua made that much clear, what the angel didn't state was how far God would let his children fall, didn't state how long he'd watch them self destruct before he lifted a finger.

Castiel hoped his father was watching, hoped he could see how far he has been pushed; he wants his father to feel remorse. But as Castiel has learnt how to adapt to interacting with humans he's also learnt not to expect miracles. To be realistic. To be faithless.

He kisses Sam harshly, his hips twisting even as Sam's fingers continue to move within him. He just wants it, harder, faster, deeper – until all he can think about are those fingers.

When Cas is sufficiently stretched and Sam is painfully hard, his erection feeling like hot steel between his legs, he raises Castiel's hips.

"Are you sure you want this?" Sam gives the angel an ultimatum a chance to say no but even if he did change his mind Sam's not sure he could stop.

"Yes. I want this."

When he penetrates Castiel the angel releases a soft noise that grates against his throat a mix between his true voice and his vessels. The angel is sweating, dark hair matted across his forehead making him appear a lot younger and fuck he looks hot. Face flushed. Nipples hard. Cock swollen. His arms are desperately thrown over Sam's shoulders, blunt nails biting into the tanned flesh of the man on top of him.

The scratches don't hurt and that surprises Sam more than anything - how weak his companion has become. Once he could deflect bullets, knives and demons and now the feeling of having someone else inside of him has keening moans leaking free from his mouth.

"How does it feel?"

Sam's expecting painful so when the complete opposite word leaves the angel's mouth Sam thrusts harder, his cock twitching within the confines of Castiel's body.

"Gratifying."

Sam raises his upper body his hands pressed into the mattress on either side of Castiel's shoulders.

He didn't use a condom and he's glad so fucking glad he didn't because the slide of skin is so warm and wet, rubbing and caressing and squeezing against every ridge of his penis.

The angel's legs tighten on Sam's hips, the insides of his knees pressed against the hunter's ribcage.

"Deeper." The angel whispers, his voice a wispy exhalation.

Sam misses the word and bows his head slightly trying to catch it.

One of Cas's hands grip onto Sam's hip as the other hovers over the mattress.

"Deeper...I can take it."

Sam obliges.

A forceful jolty thrust makes Castiel raise his free arm only to bring it down upon the dirty bed sheets where he roughly pulls at them, the quilt caught beneath his naked back. He pulls again creating a large rip in the flattened fabric.

Sam grinds his hips downwards, rolling them in a half circle, breathing a moan in appreciation when Cas's hips buck upwards the leaking end of his penis dragging up Sam's lower abdomen, precome staining the hunters abs.

Sam feels his climax nearing; he slides his fingers up the underside of Castiel's erection, the pads of his fingers catching on Cas's slippery foreskin.

The angels body freezes, his breath hitching, his heart thumping...and of fuck that feels so good. Feels. He can actually feel something. It's just physical pleasure. There's nothing emotional about it, but still it's something.

This would probably be the only time Sam would see Castiel like this – this vulnerable this exposed this human.

Seeing this kind of submission sends jolts of arousal through Sam. Seeing a being seemingly a thousand times more powerful than him so helpless is nothing short of downright seductive. It was the same with Ruby, he knew when he first met her that she was more powerful than him - could easily over power him. She proved that fact when she kicked both his and Dean's asses in the basement before they went after Lilith. That seemed so long ago now. So much had happened since then. Dean's time in hell. The Angels. The demon blood. Lucifer. The apocalypse. Castiel.

Seeing the angel so weak, reacting so feverishly to every touch, to every steady roll of his hips is deliciously satisfying - is pleasurable beyond words.

Sam finds the site beautiful and at that moment he contemplates how fucked up he truly is in order to revel in someone else's suffering. Castiel is a whole one hundred and forty pounds of diminishing grace, cheap liquor and daddy issues yet the hunter has never wanted to be with someone more, has never wanted to utterly own mark and desecrate someone so much.

He receives some sick sense of pleasure knowing that the angel is flawed – even the mighty will fall, even the holy – even angels.

Sam's arms encircle Castiel's back pulling the angel towards his chest as he lifts them both off of the bed.

The angel's vessel is heavier than Sam anticipated so he's thankful when they reach the room separator. Pressing Castiel against it takes off some of the strain of holding the others body up.

With one leg haphazardly wrapped around Sam's waist, the other pushed up against his chest Castiel gasps with every hard pressed thrust into his body.

"S-Sam." For the first time Castiel's voice breaks, he runs a hand up Sam's arm grasping his tricep, sweaty skin sliding over flexed muscles.

"No..." Sam forces out through gritted teeth – why must Castiel persist on touching him there. Touching him where he touched Dean.

Sam doesn't know why he feels jealous, why he feels a small pit of sadness because he thinks no he knows Castiel would rather Dean be here. And the thought is sickening. Is he not enough? For a moment Sam wonders how his brother would comfort an angel who's losing his faith. A steady hand on his shoulder and another drink to numb the pain or would Dean do as he's doing. Roughly strip the angel and fuck him into oblivion. Sam finds he doesn't care much for the answer.

The brunette grasps Cas's hand taking it away from his tricep before he interlaces his fingers with the angels, pressing their joined limbs against the wall divider.

Cas squirms uncomfortably the new sensations in his body completely alien and the odd pattern of the wall divider digging into his back, digging so harshly he's beginning to feel the pattern indent itself into his flesh.

His cock is bouncing between them, droplets of pre come dampening his hardened shaft but he can't get off can't reach that amazing pinnacle he's heard humans boast about.

"Cas..."

A whimper is his only reply.

"How do you feel?"

The questions changed. Sam isn't asking him about sensations he's asking about him personally.

How does he feel?

Castiel.

Angel of Thursday.

Guardian.

Rebellion.

Useless deteriorating angel.

"Empty."

Sam comes.

/

When Sam awakens he's on the bed, bodily fluids dried on his flaccid penis and he distastefully notices there isn't any on his abdomen. Castiel didn't meet his completion. The thought makes Sam sick with guilt.

The hunter looks up to find Castiel standing naked with a glass of water in his hand, staring out the window with such intent.

The odd patterns of the wall divider have created their own mark on Castiel's back and Sam's not sure whether the angel either wants it there or simply doesn't have enough juice to heal it.

"Cas." The angel's head tilts to the side as if he's listening for something. Maybe the angels. He hears them less and less these days, can barely listen to them without feeling as if an aneurism in his head is bursting.

"Castiel." Sam tries again.

The angel turns then, his expression blank apart from the still drunken glint in his eyes.

The blue eyed angel walks towards him for once not relying on his trusty teleportation skills.

He sits on the bed, placing the glass of water on the floor before he runs his fingers over a crease in the covers.

"Cas...look-"

"Do not tell Dean about what conspired between us."

Sam's affronted but more than anything confused, he wasn't planning on telling Dean. Before he woke up he was sure he had just dreamt of coupling with the angel. But so what if he told Dean. It wasn't any of his brothers business; and it wasn't as if Dean hadn't had his fair share of sexual relations with an angel.

Castiel's eyes hastily run over Sam's face, his pupils blown wide.

"Promise me."

Sam frowns, confusion evident on his sharp features but the angel is looking at him with such desperation he can't refuse.

"I promise."

Cas's demeanour changes, in the blink of an eye his clothes are back on and he's standing over a book.

"I believe I know what has been affecting this town and its people – there's a creature called the Whore of Babylon."

Sam stares at Castiel in disbelief wondering what on earth is going on in this beings head and what the fuck is a Whore of Babylon.

They just had sex, the brunette practically took his virginity and now the angel wants to pretend it never happened.

"Cas-"

Sensing the beginnings of a change to subject the angel sends him a cold look.

"You should get dressed before Dean comes back." Is all Castiel says before he returns to his book, the thick hardback held tightly within his palm.

Sam inhales through his nose at the same time biting his lip and looking away.

He nods before doing exactly as Castiel asked, after all the angel's been through for them complying is the least Sam can do for him.

(AU) Yeah so this is random I'm a diehard Destiel shipper but you gotta have some Sassy in there it's too hot to deny in that oh we shouldn't but hell yeah we should kind of way anyway review Sassy lovers!

Dolorous Doll

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