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Riding Shotgun, Going Nowhere

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The only sound in the room is the panting coming from their bed, mojo'd by one of the angels – Sam isn't sure which – to a size large enough for the three of them. It's more comfortable than the one that came with the room he rented for the night and it's made even more comfortable by the angels he's currently caught between; Gabriel's breath ghosting over the nape of his neck and Castiel crowding his front. They're both lazily trailing their hands down his sides, over his stomach and back and up across his chest, slow easy touches while he catches his breath.

"That was…" Wonderful, he thinks.

Gabriel's chuckle rises from behind him before the archangel is leaning up on an elbow, amber eyes glittering down at him. "A pretty good first round," he says, voice a little huskier than normal and sending just the right kind of chills down Sam's spine.
Castiel smiles, lips tickling over Sam's collarbone just before he nips at it. Sam gasps quietly, skin still sensitive from their first go, but it trails off into a moan when Gabriel joins in, sucking at the base of his neck. Their hands glide more purposefully over his body, lighting sensation across his nerves and he reaches back with one hand to grab onto whatever part of Gabriel he can find, reaching out with the other to slide across Castiel's shoulders and chest and the back of his head, curling his fingers into the short, dark hair there.

Soon he's lost in the sensation of two angels, around him and in him, hands and mouths everywhere. It's all too much and not enough and he loves that he can have this, even if this is all it will ever be.


The curtains of the Blue Bell motel do nothing to block the morning light from its sleeping occupants and Sam groans softly when he feels the harsh rays, sees the murky red of light against his eyelids. He stretches, arching his back until it pops and curling his toes, and reaches out an arm with a pleased sigh that quickly morphs to one of disappointed resignation. The bed is back to normal, his hand flopping over the edge on his right side. The spaces on each side of him are cold and look untouched, as though everything from last night had been a dream.

Just like every other time the three of them have fallen into bed together.

They won't be coming back until close to noon unless he calls them earlier, always giving him time to either sleep in or get up and ready without being barged in on, and he allows himself a self-pitying sigh, safe in the knowledge that he has a little time to mope and feel sorry for himself before he has to get up and face a new day.

He doesn't understand why it bothers him so much, the angels being gone every time he wakes up --

That's a lie.

He knows exactly why it bothers him. But he wishes it wouldn't. Just because they aren't there when he wakes up doesn't mean anything. It's just... He misses getting to wake up and have someone be there. Dean's been trying to work things out with Lisa again, - successfully, according to Dean the last time they talked on the phone - making up for time they lost together in the last year and Sam is happy for his brother, finally getting out of the life and into a real, still semi-dysfunctional, but not altogether unhealthy family.

But Sam's never been good at being on his own. Even at Stanford, he'd had a roommate at first. Then he'd started dating Jess and when he'd had the chance to work out living arrangements for the new semester, they'd moved in together.

It's not even that he's alone, either. Gabriel and Castiel have stuck around. They've even started this... whatever this relationship is. They alternate between checking in on Heaven, keeping the peace between the angels left, and flying down to help Sam with his cases or just harass him or fondle him until he puts down his work for a couple hours. His life is better than he could have imagined it getting while he's still in the family business.

Everything would be so much simpler if he could have just not fallen in love with two angels. They obviously like him, he can't imagine them jumping his bones nearly every night since they started this... thing if they didn't like him. But he's reminded every morning after, when he wakes up to find himself alone in his bed, that it isn't serious. And it isn't going to be.

With one last self-indulgent sigh Sam forces himself to get out of bed and into the shower.

He's got two angels coming by in a couple hours and still needs to figure out where he's heading to next.

He can convince himself he's okay with never being more to the two he considers his later.

Much later.


"What's up buttercup?"

Sam shakes his head but his exasperated sigh is cut off by a pair of warm lips covering his own. It's nothing much, barely a peck, but it makes his stomach flip in embarrassing delight just the same.

When Gabriel steps back Sam gestures to the newspaper he spread out on the table just before the familiar flutter of wing beats filled the air around him. "Haven't figured out where I'm headed next yet."

Castiel follows him to the table, sitting in the chair beside him. He's as stiff as ever, sitting up straight and looking almost uncomfortable until he gracefully leans across to steal his own kiss from Sam.

Sam likes these moments best, he thinks, when he feels Gabriel's hand on the back of his neck, fingers twirling and playing with the ends of his hair while Sam scans the articles for anything that might remotely resemble a case. Castiel is surprisingly - or maybe it shouldn't be surprising given how he has no concept of personal space - just as tactile as his brother and usually has a hand somewhere on Sam as well; on Gabriel, too, if they're close enough to keep it from being too awkward. It's nice. Dean has never been one for showing his affection like that - they only ever seemed to hug when one of them came back from the dead - and it would have been more uncomfortable than anything. But Sam likes how Gabriel and Castiel are free with their affection when they're in the same room. He wonders if it's an angel thing. All he knows for certain is that it's in moments like these where he can let himself pretend that whatever it is they're doing is something that will, and can, last. That they like him enough to not leave him when something better comes along or when they decide staying in Heaven is preferable to coming down and helping Sam out all the time.



Sam winces a little, but neither angel seems to notice. He shouldn't need them here. Doesn't need them here now that he's healed and the zombie is history.

But he does. Even though he knows it's just another thing that could possibly make them leave, make them realize how clingy and attached he is, especially without Dean around to latch onto anymore.

It was a close call. Closer than he liked. Closer than it should have been. If Castiel hadn't managed to wrangle the location of the cemetery Sam was checking out before he left just in case, Sam would have had his neck snapped and neither of them would have found him until it was too late.

But they did show up, just as her hands had a good grip on his head, jagged fingernails digging into his scalp painfully, and before he could blink she was gone - he isn't sure if Gabriel snapped her into her coffin or into oblivion and he doesn't plan on asking.

He can still feel her nails scratching his skin, how she'd held his hair tight enough to rip some of the strands right out of his head, even though it's long since been healed. And Sam just... doesn't want to be alone in the dreary room of 'Picture Perfect' – which is anything but - motel right now.

"Couldn't drag us away, Samcakes."

Sam can't even bring himself to protest the ridiculous pet name because the next thing he knows, he's being sandwiched between two angels on another mojo'd bed. His eyelids are too heavy to keep open now that he's finally feeling warm and comfortable with strong fingers combing through his hair; Castiel erasing the phantom pains without even realizing what he's doing.


The next morning when he wakes up the first thing he notices is that the bed feels too big. He isn't curled over to keep his feet from being right on the edge – or over the edge as he's experienced in more motels than he cares to think about – and the mattress beneath him is soft. His lips curl into a small smile and he reaches out an arm before he realizes that there are no warm bodies laid out next to him. His arm hits nothing but more mattress and smooth sheets that don't feel any warmer to the touch than usual.

He squeezes his eyes shut tighter, biting his bottom lip to muffle the humiliating, hurt sound he feels building in the back of his throat. His fingers curl into the top sheet and he pulls it up from where it had been covering his waist. He wants to disappear for a while but he can't bring himself to move so he makes do with pulling the sheet up until it covers everything but the top of his head.

There isn't any reason to get so upset over this. Gabriel and Castiel are always gone when he wakes up, even on the nights where they stay and lull him to sleep with their warm bodies and soft touches. He'd just hoped that maybe him asking them to stay would be enough this time. It's something he hadn't done before and at the very back of his mind he'd hoped that maybe the whole reason the angels left before he woke was because they just hadn't talked about it, he hadn't asked.

This time he did and he still woke up alone and Sam hadn't realized just how hard he'd been holding onto the wish that his asking would be enough. That anything he did would be enough.

He sniffs miserably, too tired to care about how stuffy it's getting inside the sheet. It feels good to be hidden away, almost like he can let go for a little while even though it's still embarrassing when a familiar pressure builds behind his eyes, his jaw aching at holding back the tears desperate to slip out.

But it's too hard to hold it all back when it's been building for so long and soon his cheeks are wet and hot and it's too stifling in his little fortress. Sam rips the sheet from his head, swiping angrily at his face.

The beat of wings freezes him in his spot and Sam stares wide eyed at the sudden appearance of Castiel laying right in front of him, brow crinkled in that familiar look of confusion the angel seems to have perfected, eyes sweeping over Sam's face and down his body.

He jumps, startled, when a hand runs steadily down his back, sometimes pressing down like when Dean would check him for injuries.

"Shhh," Castiel soothes, using the back of his hand to gently finish what Sam had started and drying his wet, splotchy cheeks before pulling Sam in until his head is tucked just under the angel's chin. His nose is pressed into Castiel's neck and Sam sucks in a shaky breath, letting the angel's scent fill his senses for just a moment.

Gabriel's hands stop, unable to find injuries where there aren't any and he wraps himself around Sam's back, pressing a soft kiss to his ear. "Don't scare us like that, gorgeous. Thought we missed something last night."

A startled laugh rips from Sam's throat because they've never missed anything when they've healed him before, but it sounds closer to a sob and he doesn't fight the fresh round of tears that wet Castiel's throat and shoulder beneath him. He isn't even sure why he's crying anymore because Gabriel and Castiel came back, even if it's because they thought he needed to be healed again.

"Sorry," he rasps when he finally gets control over himself again, talking around the lump in his throat. He tilts his head away from where he's let himself rest against Castiel's neck and wipes a hand wearily down his face, trying not to focus on the hand combing in his hair or the one that's managed to slip beneath his tee to rub soothing circles over his back. "You," he tries clearing his throat and forces the rest of his words out, "you don't have to stick around, I'm fine. Just, yeah. I'll call you when I find a case later."

"Sam –" Castiel starts, but Sam doesn't want to listen to his familiar, gravelly voice and fall that much farther when they can only be bothered to come back in the morning when they think he's injured.

"It's fine," he repeats. His voice sounds worse than it did before, rough and cracking and he hates that he can't even hold it together long enough to creep out from between them and hide away in the shower until he can shore up his mask a little longer.

Gabriel runs a soothing hand over Sam's shoulder but Sam leans away, brushing off the touch and finally finding the strength to push himself up and off the bed. One of the angel's hands wraps around his arm, but even though he'd have no hope to get away from one of them, let alone both, unless they wanted him to, it doesn't hold him back when he slips away.

"Sammy – "

Sam shuts the bathroom door on their matching confused, almost worried expressions before Gabriel has the chance to say more.


The room is back to normal when he comes out. He'll never admit to pressing his ear up against the door and opening it slowly enough to peek out before he left the steamy air of the bathroom. A shaky, relieved breath sighs out of him and he feels his shoulders relax minutely when he pulls on some clothes from his duffel.

There are still a couple of hours before they'll come back – if they bother coming back at all, his mind whispers – and he appreciates the time. He'll need all of it he can to get his head back on straight.


Sam realizes that's easier said than done when he hears the angels arrive and his heartbeat quickens in his chest. It's later than they've ever shown up before, just after he'd finished the salad he grabbed for dinner and in the last hour Sam has managed to almost convince himself they finally realized that he isn't worth the trouble he brings and won't be back.

He doesn't know how to act now that they're here, can't get himself to go back to how he'd felt before this morning, but he figures the first step is to get back to his routine. He nods at them with a small, distracted smile while he reads the last of the three newspapers he grabbed when he'd gone out that morning to get the biggest cup of coffee he could find to go with the fruit cup he'd picked up for breakfast. There was nothing of note in the first two that he could find – and the crossword puzzles in both are finished now, too, because he needed something to keep himself distracted – and he's really hoping to find a possible case in the third one to keep him busy.

"Hey there, sugarplum."

When he peeks up at them again, Castiel is rolling his bright blue eyes at Gabriel – Sam doesn't think the Archangel will ever run out of random cutesy things to call him. The smile Cas sends him makes something in his chest clench, butterflies fluttering in his stomach again when Gabriel steps up, hand immediately reaching out to tangle in Sam's hair.

How is he supposed to get over these feelings when faced with all their little touches?

"How are you feeling?" Castiel asks, his voice quiet and concerned. The angel steps up to his other side, fingertips skating over the top of his back just above the back of the chair and Sam feels himself tense. But there's nowhere for him to go unless he wants to push the table in front of him, risking upturning it in his haste to get away until he can harden himself against what he's really feeling, and that is in no way appealing.


They share a look over his head that Sam can't read but makes his stomach clench with dread – they know, his mind whispers, they know you're not worth it. But then Gabriel moves his hand, starts brushing his fingers from the top of Sam's forehead and back across his scalp in gentle strokes that stop at the base of his neck only to start up again from the top. Sam can't help the way his whole body relaxes into it, even more when Castiel's hand settles over his shoulder, thumb brushing in slow sweeps over the hollow of Sam's throat.

"Wanna try that again, pudding pop?"

Sam bites his lip for a moment, unsure what to say because he can't tell them what's really bothering him. What he has is – should be – more than enough and he can't risk losing what they do have by scaring them off.

"M'just..," he starts quietly, letting his body sag just a little into Castiel's chest, "Tired, I guess. Yesterday… took more out of me than I thought."

Castiel rubs his hand in slow circles on Sam's shoulder before gripping the back of his neck and massaging out some kinks he hadn't even realized were there. "I think you've earned a break today, Sam."

It hits him suddenly how tired he really is. He doesn't even have the urge to tell them that he's fine again, that he can't take a break now even though he hasn't found anything that sounds supernatural in any of the papers in front of him. Packing up and moving into the car sounds so much harder than it should and even though he knows he shouldn't lean on these angels, rely on them to take care of him when they could be doing so many more important things in Heaven, – or anywhere else – it's too tempting to resist.

They don't even wait for his nod. There's a quick snap and the world shifts, the motel room morphing into a bedroom at least twice the size. The chair he's sitting in shifts, too, becoming something bigger and exceptionally more comfortable than the one the motel had provided. But he isn't in it long enough to appreciate the new, soft cushion beneath him before he's gently lifted to his feet, Gabriel's hand slipping out of his hair and down to take Sam's hand. He's still leaning to his right, arm pressing into Castiel's chest. When he looks down Castiel is smiling up at him, lips curled up at the corners and if Sam didn't know the angel so well – hadn't spent so much time deciphering every barely-there expression – it wouldn't seem very special but it's practically blinding to Sam and he feels himself smiling back before he can even think about it.

He leans down and presses their lips together. A small sound catches in his throat when Gabriel's free hand slips under his shirt to rest over his stomach and Sam squeezes their hands together. His other hand slides down Castiel's shirt, skin of his palm tingling from the heat of the angel's chest and stomach until it lands on the waist of Castiel's pants. Just as the tips of his fingers dip between Castiel's skin and his pants, the angel pulls away. He presses one last kiss to the corner of Sam's mouth when Sam stands there in a confused daze and Sam tightens his hand over Castiel's hip, making a confused noise in the back of his throat.

They're taking a break, stepping away from hunting at least for the night, and that always, always means a mind-blowing – heart wrenching – round of sex before Sam gets a night of restful sleep and wakes up back in his motel room so that he can get back to it. It's how he'd wanted it at first, so he wouldn't have to worry about waiting for the angels to get back in the morning for him to hit the road and find a new case. But now Gabriel is tugging their entangled hands, other hand warm on Sam's stomach, and leading him to the oversized bed while Castiel follows, attached to Sam where he hasn’t released the angel's hip.

"What…?" he murmurs but he trails off, letting Gabriel tug him onto the bed and arrange him until the archangel nods, satisfied. Sam's on his side staring up at Gabriel, who's looking down at him with a small, triumphant smile. He's about to try asking again because while Sam is used to getting into bed with these angels, there are usually less clothes and more kissing involved. If they're going to lay with him, at least until he falls asleep, he'd like to know he helped them… get off. That's what they do. Really it's the only thing that makes sense about this whole relationship they've got going on and now they're confusing him all over again.

Gabriel cuts him off before he can say anything with a quick kiss, just like the ones he gives Sam in the morning that make his stomach flip. "You're tired, Sammy," he says quietly, rubbing a thumb just under Sam's eye, then over his eyelids. Sam sighs a little at the touch and lets his eyes fall closed. He's still confused, doesn't want to sleep yet because it'll be that much sooner that he'll wake up alone, but his jeans are suddenly sweat pants and his shirt is gone with what was probably barely a thought for one of the angels.

He's snug and comfortable like he always feels caught between these two. Castiel's breath tickles the back of his head, his hand warm as it slides down Sam's arm to twine their fingers together and bring it up to squeeze between where Sam and Gabriel's chests are touching. Their legs all end up a tangled mess and Sam wouldn't know where one of them ends and the other starts, especially when Gabriel slides even closer and wraps his arms somehow around both Sam and Castiel's bodies.

This isn't what Sam is used to but it makes him fall that much harder, makes him wish he could let himself get used to it. But he wants to savor it while it lasts.

He falls asleep with a small smile on his face because it feels amazing, even with the knowledge that he'll be alone again in a couple of hours.


Something's different when he wakes up this time. The first thing he notices is that he's more crowded than normal, warm even though he can't feel a blanket or sheet resting over his back or shoulders, and that his pillow is moving up and down rhythmically. Slowly he blinks his eyes open, daring to look up.

He's not imagining things.

It's Castiel he's using as a convenient body pillow. Sam's got his head on the angel's chest, arms wrapped around him holding the dark haired angel close. Castiel's arms are around him as well, one hand curled at the small of his back and the other gripping his arm gently. Gabriel must be at his back, tickling random patterns into his skin so lightly Sam can barely feel it. He doesn't know when he moved in the night, but their legs are still tangled together.

"Hello beautiful."

Sam blinks, staring up into blue eyes as they open slowly and look right back at him. Castiel isn't usually ones for pet names. Sam can't remember a time since they started this that Castiel has called him by anything but his name.

He likes it more than he probably should.

The tickling over the skin of his back pauses, Gabriel flattening his hand over Sam's shoulder and petting down his arm just a little before he leans up and presses feather light kisses over Sam's neck and down his jaw. Sam closes his eyes, sure he must be dreaming because there's light outside the drawn curtains, hazy and bright the way it only is in the morning. Teeth graze just barely at the sensitive skin behind his ear and he lets his body relax into the touches, lets himself react instinctively because if it is, then this is his dream and he wants to enjoy it before he wakes up alone in some crappy motel room.

He doesn't know which name to call when Castiel joins in, moving his hand from the small of Sam's back to his front and sliding over his stomach and chest, pausing only to tease at his nipples with a flick of his thumbs before sliding the rest of the way up his chest and back down to his stomach again.

"Mmmm," one – or maybe all – of them moans softly. Sam holds out his own hand to touch Castiel, slipping down to grip at his waist again in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer.

Their hands gently maneuver him, so gradual he barely notices through the sensation of Gabriel's teeth and Castiel's touch. But soon he's nearly on his back and tilting his head up when Castiel leans in to claim the other side of his neck. It's maddening, being caught between them again, feeling their mouths and tongues and teeth tease over his throat until he's squirming and unable to control the sounds whimpering out of him.

One of Castiel's hands slips down his chest again and continues past his stomach. Sam doesn't even remember when his pants disappeared but he doesn't care when steady fingers curl around his cock, stroking just enough to drive the last sane part of him crazy.

"Gorgeous," Castiel breathes into his skin just before Gabriel whispers, "Ours," into his neck.

If it wasn't for the warmth flowing through him everywhere their skin is connected, Sam would believe this couldn't possibly be real. But he does feel it, pulsing through his entire body and eliciting an awed, surprised laugh because he's never felt something like this before.

Slowly Castiel ceases his stroking and pulls his hand away to rest on Sam's chest again, just under the edge of his tattoo. Sam mewls in protest, blinking his embarrassingly watering eyes open when they both release his neck next, one of Gabriel's hands resting just over his hip. When Sam turns his head enough to see Gabriel, the archangel looks as serious as Sam has ever seen him.

"You are ours, Sam. You know that." It sounds more like a question than a statement and Sam stares into wide golden eyes for what must be a solid, silent, minute before his eyes flick to Castiel who nods in agreement.

"Y-yours," Sam whispers, and it's like he can breathe again. Castiel's smile is wider than he's ever seen before, stretching across his face. There's something like happiness shining bright in his flashing blue eyes that Sam feels with his entire being through the hands they've got holding him steady. Gabriel leans forward, weight shifting the mattress beneath them, to sink his teeth just barely into the flesh of Sam's ear, a teasing nip that sends pleasant jolts down Sam's spine.

"How d'you feel about making it a bit more… permanent, Samcakes?"

"Permanent?" he repeats dumbly, reeling a little. "I didn't… I thought… you didn't stay," he finally blurts out because that's still the first thing he can think of. The other mornings waking up alone he understood. They hadn't discussed it and when they first got together, it made everything easier. But he'd asked them to stay and he'd still woken up alone the morning before.

Castiel curls the fingers of his free hand into Sam's hair, circling the pads of them into Sam's scalp the way he – they both – know turns him into a practically purring puddle of goo. It's enough to calm his rapidly firing thoughts - it's a joke, they're not being serious, pleasepleaseplease let it be real.

"You were sleeping," Gabriel explains while Castiel continues the gentle petting of Sam's head and chest, nakedness forgotten in lieu of this conversation that feels long overdue. "We got a call from home that sounded important. Turns out they decided they can finally take care of thing themselves now that we got some order restored. We thought we'd be back long before you woke up."

"When we got back and saw you," Castiel picks up where Gabriel left off when the archangel presses a kiss to Sam's temple, "We realized that we never expressed just how much we care for you."

Sam bites his lip. He wants to believe them so badly his bones are aching with it, his body straining to get closer to both of them. But just as he opens his mouth to say something, anything, Castiel leans in close and kisses him. More warmth floods into Sam at the contact, laced with something so much like love his heart swells where it pounds in his chest.

Mirroring emotions join it and Sam distantly realizes that both of his angels are pouring this into him. It's almost overwhelming, being wrapped between the heat of their bodies, the swirl of their emotions, and the surge of their grace – that's what it has to be – but it's also exactly what he needs, so much more than he ever thought he would get.

"We want you to be ours, Sam."

Gabriel nips his agreement over Sam's neck and across the back of his shoulder, fingers tightening a fraction over his hip.

"Really?" Sam hears the sliver of hope in his voice and doesn't feel the urge to hold it back.

"Really, Sammykins," Gabriel breathes behind him.

A grin stretches across Sam's face and he couldn't stop it even if he tried. "And… you'd be mine?" he asks hesitantly.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

This is what he's been wanting, been convincing himself he couldn't have for months and they want him, too.


Gabriel grins against his head, pleased breath ruffling Sam's hair when Castiel captures his lips in another kiss. Castiel's tongue licks over the seam of his lips and Sam opens to him eagerly. He's almost lightheaded, giddy with the knowledge that this is real and that he isn't alone. He'd never let himself believe he could have them equally or that they'd want him to be theirs.

Neither of their hands can seem to keep still any longer. Castiel's tightens in his hair and tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss and bare the skin of his throat to Gabriel who doesn't hesitate to suck at the pulse point. Sam jerks and moans, rocking his hips forward and pressing his hardening length into Castiel's stomach.

"Please," he whispers, voice cracking, when Castiel pulls away. The angel presses more kisses where he can reach down Sam's jaw and slips the hand he'd had in Sam's hair down to wrap around his cock again in an angle that would have been uncomfortable were he human, picking up where they'd left off.

Sam can't stay still. He reaches behind himself in a familiar move to touch any part of Gabriel he can reach, gripping the archangel's thigh in a strong hold and mirroring the whimper Gabriel gives when he feels Gabriel rocking against him, the line of his hard cock pressing into the small of his back.

He finds himself thrusting up into Castiel's hand and back against Gabriel's cock within moments, finding a rhythm that's become familiar after months of being together but still manages to feel new now. Their grace wrapping around him and through him makes his skin tingle, feel nearly overheated but he doesn't ever want it to stop.

"Ours," Castiel groans against his lips, taking himself in hand as well as Sam. The first brush of their cocks together, combined with that word, is almost enough to send Sam over the edge and he bites his lip, then Castiel's, drawing him back into another wet kiss.

"Mine," Sam answers, curling his fingers tighter over Gabriel's thigh and pressing the palm of his other over Castiel's chest.

"Always, Sammy," Gabriel agrees behind him.

That steady, burning heat builds in his belly and Sam knows he's close, starts rocking more wildly between them, unable – and unwilling – to censor the sounds he's making. Castiel's hand presses more firmly into his chest, just below his tattoo while Gabriel's digs harder into the softer flesh of his stomach, thumb just reaching his side.

The pulsing warmth he'd decided must be grace earlier surges out in waves now, concentrating on where their hands have settled. It continues to grow warmer, his whole body trembling with it, until he comes with an indiscernible shout. They aren't far behind him, shooting off almost simultaneously and painting him in their come but he barely notices anything outside of the sudden almost-burning he feels from their hands, dulled somehow.

It stops suddenly and the only sound in the room is their panting, so much like the other nights they've had sex. But it's nothing like those nights, not really, because Sam can feel them. He can feel Castiel's gratitude that Sam let them have him and Gabriel's excitement over having his own flock, his own family again. And so much more, emotions he can't decipher but seem right and nothing like the overwhelming mess they should be.

When he blinks his eyes open, unsure when he'd closed them again, and looks down at himself, the angels pull their hands away. The skin beneath them is raised and angry looking, though he notes hazily that they don't hurt, and he smiles again before he can help it, pouring waves of his own happiness into them because he's theirs now and they're his. They've got a future together, possibly longer than he can even comprehend and it's perfect.

With a snap he's clean, skin dry and clear of sweat and come and he hums his approval when trying to talk doesn't work. Gabriel chuckles, tugging Sam to lay on his back and kissing him long enough to leave him dizzy and breathless again. Sam's smile grows wider when Gabriel leans across him and pulls his brother into a kiss as well.

Soon enough Sam's practically blanketed by angels. Gabriel's head is on his shoulder, Castiel's arms are wrapped around him and they each have a leg thrown over his, their hands joined on top of his stomach.

Sam closes his eyes with a contented sigh, secure in the knowledge that his angels love him. Want him.

It's the best gift he's been given in a long time.