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Livin' on a prayer

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It's the only way.
It's their last resource.
It's crazy. Sam knows it's crazy. It's probably the stupidest thing they've come up with, but he's also a desperate man who wants his brother back. So that trumps everything right now.


It's nice outside, the wind blows softly throught the half rolled window of the driver's side of the impala where Sam is staring off at nothing right now.
His head hurts, his hands hurts from the tigh grip on the bottle of JD he has in one hand and the white knuckled grip of the steering wheel of the other, but his face feels numb. His body feels numb, like he isn't even there, inside their car parked a in a filthy, deserted, dark alley, waiting for Cas to come out here from wherever he is to get this show on the road once and for all.

Because the ultimate plan to bring Dean back?A nice quick fuck inside the car. Yeah. That's their brilliant idea.

Nothing has worked so far. Nothing. Sam has tryed just about anything, summonings, spells, hell he even tried to sold his good for nothing old soul but the damn demons won't budge. They want nothing to do with the Winchesters, and much less with the one that is currently possessed by the most powerful (alive) archangel. 

Nobody wants to mess with Michael, the cowards. In other circumstances Sam would agree.
But it's no other circumstance in this moment than Dean being abducted and used as a meatsuit by it, so he wouldn't give up, not even when the idea of having sex with their angel best friend on the car is sacrilegious to their relationship. And Dean would be fuming. He's gonna be pissed and hurt. But if it works, if they succeed and Michael comes to them, if they can trap him there long enough..
Then it will be all worth it. If his brother wants to hate him forever then Sam would gladly take it if he can get him back.

Besides, he can blame Cas for it all right? It was his idea after all.. Right.

The door of the back is open, some fumbling, and then closed when Cas gets in.
Sam looks at him from the inside mirror and Cas lifts his eyes back at him. He looks a bit apprehensive, his hands folded on his lap, thumbs playing iddly together. He doesn't hold his gaze more than a few seconds, glances to the window bitting his bottom lip.

Sam sighs. He knows how he must look too, the same as him but a lot more tired. There are dark circles under his eyes that could rival any black hole.

There's an aura of misery around the two of them both that combined and confined in the same space threatens to drown them both here, inside the car, forever.
That makes Sam snap out of his retrieve, he clears his throat ignoring the wringing nervous energy going inside himself.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he has to ask, there's no turning back from this. Not after.. the act. He needs to be sure they are on the same fucked up page.
Cas scoffs at him. Like he was mad to even say it. Excuse me for been a decent human being Sam wants to shot back.

"If you have forgot, this was my idea in the first place"
Despite his attempt at nonchalance he's wringing his hands nervously, sending skittish glances to Sam now and then.
He crosses and uncrosses his legs, squirming a bit on the center of the seat.

Sam is nervous and squeamish enough too, and he has had enough of this prelude.
He lifts the bottle to his lips on one last big gulp, he opens the door and closes it carelessly enough that it churns in protest (and Dean would kill him for it), then emptying himself of any other thought goes to the back of the car, next to Cas, who makes room for him the moment he saw his intention.

Once in the back he finds himself frozen in the spot. He doesn't know what to do. Or more like how to begin with.. this.
He twists a bit sideways and offers the bottle to Cas. The angel looks at the offering and shakes his head once.
"You know it doesn't work on me, Sam" he says softly, and when Sam really looks at him he notices the soft glow on his weathered blue eyes. He has his hands on the pockets of his trench now, maybe to stop the wriggling.
Sam wets his lips and nods
"Right" then he proceeds to open the door to throw the bottle outside. When he goes to close it, Cas places a hand on his arm, stopping him.
"um, if we- if we want he to see us.." he stammers and Sam can't help to notice how cute he blushes all high on his cheeks, the barely there light of the moon filtering throught the open door casting a silky glow on his face. Cas is right, they have to be seen. And as weird this whole scheme may be, the remainder of the fact that Dean has to see them screwing on the back of the car sends a thrill down Sam's spine, all the way around his crotch too. His cock gaves the first twich of the night since they came up with this plan.

So he lets the door like that, open all the way like an invitation, come and get us, and the next thing he knows he has a lapfull of Cas; it was so sudden he almost hits his head on the roof going backwards on the seat, and Cas looks a bit taken a back at his reaction, but really, way to warn a guy.
He recovers quickly though, his hands latch into Cas waist like a lifesaver, and that encourages Cas a bit, he starts to move his hips this way and that, unsure but decided.
Cas arms are side by side on Sam's head, grabbing the seat for dear life while he figures how to do it, or more like how Sam likes it; he has a look of utterly concentration on his face that makes his lips purse a little, wich awakes a unknown need in Sam to bit them until they get a pretty dark pink. So Sam bites his lips and just goes for it, he drags Cas down by the waist and gets up the rest of the way and Cas makes a surprised little sound before their lips collide, teeth too, and they are both getting heady and hot and holly shit who would have throught that Cas lips would be so soft? His mouth so addictive already, so sweet, fresh like ripe peach, wet and delicious.

The car interior is fighting a loosing battle of temperatures with the wind getting inside, their bodies steaming off warm that clings on the windows for a few seconds.
Meanwhile his dick is more than invested on the situation, Cas plush ass rocking with increasing urge down on him, driving them both crazy from the bulgue his friend is also packing. Sam breaks the kiss to move things along
"let's" he says but doesn't need to complete that panted sentence; Cas nods quickly and starts to get his trench off of him, and would gladly help if he wasn't so dumbstruck with lust and a constant screaming in his head of shit I'm making out with Cas and I'm as hard as nails
His body moves on its own (fortunately) and he let's Cas's hips go to help him with his classic white shirt, ripping some buttons off on his haste to get to Cas skin and Cas nipples that are pointing at him wantonly, he wants to sink his teeth on them he wants to suck and lick -
Cas shudders above him, a full body shudder and that gets Sam attention long enough to rip off his eyes off the angel's soft pink nipples and look at him, and his friend looks delirious with want, there's not other way to describe it really; his mouth is parted, wet tongue showing, hot pink all over his face, blue eyes almost pitch black. Sam is boiling by this point too, his cock leaking madly, and Cas just surges up his face and grabs him to literally put his chest towards his mouth. Sam doesn't need it spelled out after that, he puts his moth to good use on Cas's left niple, right hand caressing and pinching the other one while Cas gets on his pants. He opens them quickly and his hand slides inside Sam's bowers, squeezing his aching cock, tearing a groan out of Sam.
Cas is whimpering, Sam can't stop the groans he's letting out and he really needs to get his hands on the ass working furiously on his lap pronto; he works Cas belt open and then with Cas's eager help they get his pants halfway off his legs.


And then Sam suffers suden brainfrezze because Cas, his angel friend, weird and gentle Cas, has gone comando. And his dick is standing proudly at him, leaking like crazy too, almost red with want.

"Shit" Sam hisses soflty but Cas hears him because his hips stutter for a moment, like he doesn't know how to catalogue Sam's swearing right now. So Sam licks his lips and gets himself together enough to continue.
When Sam's hands first slide into the warm, soft flesh of his buttocks, Cas shivers and moans. Sam's face has never left the angel chest, only changing direction between one nipple and the other, and that seems to make Cas go crazy above him, his hands are fisted in Sam's sweaty locks of hair, his chest pushed up all the time like an offering, glistening with sweat, feverish. Sam feels the need to bite into that flesh, to leave his mark, to make everyone who gets to look know Sam Winchester was here and he loved it. This is mine.
He bites into Cas chest, goes up to the start of his neck, gets to his earlobe while Cas backs his ass into Sam's hands and mewls so pretty that Sam thinks he is going to fucking explode if they don't get to the main event.
It hasn't dawn on him that he's still fully clothed while Cas is almost naked, only his blue tie loose around his neck and his pants down his spread knees on either side of Sam, and he has a urge to get less clothes too. Cas senses this somehow so he makes quick work of his jacket and shirts while Sam gets his hand closer and closer to Cas's hole and-
And he fucking loses it. His mouth opens on a gasp when his fingers touch what Sam knows too well; Cas is wearing a buttplug. Sam toys with it experimentaly while Cas has gone utterly still, waiting for his reaction, waiting on him.

"Fuck" is all Sam can say right now. He can't even form sentences on his head.
Cas gasps too when Sam gets a grip on the round end of the plug and twits it a little, rocks it on and off the tight rim accommodating it, and it's so damn hot, his dick twichs trapped inside his underwear. Cas is rocking his hips now, going with the movements of Sam's hand while letting out little moans that drive Sam crazy until he can't take it anymore
"I thought I- should be re- ah! -dy" Cas says between the sounds he's making and Sam would be jealous he can even form words right now if he wasn't so dazed with the idea of Cas getting ready for him, fingering himself first with a bunch of lube, then coating the plug and sticking it on the tight, hot rim of his ashole -
"I need to be inside you now, please" because Sam may be a desperate mess of a man, but he has manners.
Cas says (more like hisses) yes and then he's letting go of Sam's hair and reaching behind himself to- to bat at Sam's own hand to get the plug out of his ass, and shit that's the hottest thing Sam has seen in a while.

When the plug is out Sam's cock is too, and then Cas just goes to town on it; he impales himself slowly on it at first, hissing and gasping and saying something Sam thinks is so big, but he can't be sure cause he's too preoccupied to not come only for the tight entrance of Cas's ass.
It feels heavenly, hot and wet and ready to take.
Cas must agree because the next thing he does the moment his tighs gets on top of Sam's own is to move his hips, little grinding motions and swivels of hips, every time a bit more, leaving Sam to grip hard on the angel slender waist to gain some balance in this ride.
Sam groans and Cas answers him with whimpers, his knees had find a firm place in the seat squeaking behind them with the movement of their moist bodies. The seat of impala has seen a lot in his life, really.

The seat of the impala..

Dean.

"I know, I- nng there - sorry- I've called to Michael telepathy--ah!- telepathically" Cas says, panting out of breath while ridding Sam's dick and how unfair is that?
How hasn't occurred to Sam until now what they were doing this for?

He feels a pang of guilt at the thought.


"Sam" Cas says softly, not stopping the movements of his hips but going gently. He takes Sam's face on his hands and makes him look at him in the eyes.
Cas's fingers scratch his beard and it feels comforting somehow. A tender gesture.
"don't be hard on yourself. This was my idea after all. It was.. our last resource" his voice, while comforting, is tinged with something sad that makes Sam ache for him. It's not fair to lay this whole thing off on him, because the truth is, Sam could've said no. And he never did. He may had throught how a bad idea this was for different reasons, how crazy it sounded, but he never really refused to it. Hell, he's buried deep inside Cas right now and he's not regretting it.
He looks at Cas and lets his eyes linger on the red bitten lips, and kisses him without another thought.
When he has had his fair share of Cas's addictive mouth he let's his head fall back in the seat and whispers "ride me, Cas".


Cas does. He does with so much gusto that the car starts to rock with them both, tires protesting the movement, leather under them joining the protest, and for a while all Sam can focus on is the plush of the Cas's ass rocking down on him, Sam's own hips answering the calling, fucking up on Cas when he's getting down.
Cas is getting noiser and noiser the hard their thighs collide, getting hard and deep on the downstrocke, grinding himself at the angle he likes

"ah ah ah, Sam!" he's nearly shouting at this point and Sam is growling of how fucking good he feels and he's ready to come anytime now, he manages to gasp it at Cas as a warning, his fingers hurt of how hard he's gripping Cas, the poor guy is gonna have finger shaped bruises for a while and that does it, he slams one last time and he's coming so deep and so hard his vision blackened for a moment.
Cas is whimpering above him and it feels like he's coming too from the nearly painful squeeze of his ass on Sam's spurting dick.
They are both trying to catch their breath, Cas head on his neck, hot puff of air tickling Sam's right niple when Cas lifts his head suddenly.
There was a noise outside, a rustle of wings.

Cas has gone quiet above him, eyes trained throught the foggy back window of the car. He's flexing his fingers on Sam's arms, like he doesn't wanna let go of him. His body is curling protectively over him even when he's still impaled on Sam's softening cock.
Sam knows then Michael is here.

The crunching of shoes on asphalt gets closer, slowly and deliberate.

Then, as predicted, Michael is standing there, beside the open door of the car, right on their line of vision.

It's Dean's face, the one Sam hasn't seen in too much time for his liking, and it cuts sharply throught Sam's post-coital-bliss mind like nothing else would.
Dean's lip curve down with disgust at the two of them, and Sam knows its Michael doing it but it hurts the same to watch that sneer directed at him from his brother's facade.

"Well, well. Looks like somebody already forgot about his brother, doesn't it?" Michael says, mocking glint on his green eyes. He takes a step closer.

Come on. Get closer.

Sam manages not to flinch at his cruel words, just casts a look at Cas, shivering a bit now that the warm of their bodies is fading, so Sam grabs his trench off the seat and covers him the best he can.
Cas takes the hint, starts to lift himself off Sam and gets the coat better on.

"This is what you wanted to show me, Castiel?" Michael snorts "how well you ride Sam's dick?" his hands are inside his pockets now, a look of perfect placed desinterest on his face, but here's the thing; Sam knows his brother's face better than he knows himself, every single one of his antics and ticks, so he can see right throught it, he can notice the barely there twich of Dean's left eye when something is really bothering him.
They got him. He's under there making noise, going wild.

Hang in there, Dean. We are getting you back.

Cas has gone outside the car now, from the other side. He's standing beside the opposite door of Michael, stare firmly on his brother. He has his pants on but he's still shirtless under his trench, closed over the windy early hours of the near morning. Its still dark and wet with dew around the road.

Sam sighs like this is all stupid, and gets a shirt on and his pants done.

"what I wanted to show you, Michael, is this" Cas lift his palm up over the hod of the impala for the archangel to see, but doesn't opens his hand all the way. There's a round bluish shaped thing pecking out of his closed fingers, but Michael can't see much more of it.


He gets closer.

Takes one, then two steps closer.


His hands come outside his pant pockets, curious to reach out to this misterious thing Castiel is presenting-

A metal clicking sound from below himself, and when Michael looks down his hands are bounded inside tick handcuffs. Sam is holding onto his writs tightly with a look of utter victory on his face, dark green eyes gleaming at him.
"gotcha"

 

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