Word Count: 631
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Summary: Written for 50 first times – first time naked in a bed
“Slow down,” Cas grumbles as Sam slides his hand too roughly over his hip, across his thigh. “We finally, actually have all night.”
Sam knows…fuck, he knows. They’ve been sneaking and dodging for six months, two weeks, three days, and nine hours trying to hide this still somewhat new facet of their relationship from Dean. Sam more because he doesn’t want the lecture about deflowering fallen angels and Cas…well Cas because he doesn’t want the lecture about deflowering little brothers.
If Dean only knew how deflowered they were…Christ.
“Sorry,” Sam murmurs into the damp skin of his lover’s shoulder. “Old habits, I guess. I keep waiting for him to bust in the door.”
“He won’t,” Cas assures him. For a moment he has Sam distracted by the press of gentle kisses along his cheek, down the side of his neck. But it only takes a few moments of breathless gasping for Sam to notice how sure Cas sounds about Dean not interrupting them.
“What did you do?”
Cas bites his lower lip before taking a deep breath. “I told him.”
“You. Told. Dean.” Sam whispers. The finality of it Earth shattering. “YOUTOLDDEAN!?”
“Yes,” Cas snaps, rolling them over so he’s on top and shoving Sam’s thighs apart so he press in close and rub his body against Sam’s as he answers, “I’m tired of longing looks and sneaking kisses, I’m tired of sticky jeans and aching jaws, stolen moments when I’m never sure we’re going to have another. I’m sick of sleeping alone and aching to hold your hand. I’m eternally frustrated by how much more of you I want all the time when it’s never enough. You’re mine. I’m yours. We both belong to Dean. He’ll get used to it, get over it, or join in with it. I frankly don’t care at this point. But by the time the sun rises I’m going to have opened you up, buried myself inside you, and marked you as mine. Then if we’re both really lucky you’ll get a chance to do the same for me before he shows up here two hours before he swore me he would with doughnuts and coffee.”
“You kicked him out,” Sam says slowly, like he’s still on shaky ground about the whole concept.
“We came to an agreement,” Cas nods. “We get a few nights alone a month and we promise to never EVER have sex in the Impala.”
“We’ve already had sex in the Impala.”
Cas grins, large and knowingly, like a cat who got the cream. “Dean doesn’t know that.”
Sam’s still occasionally chuckling later, even as Cas opens him slowly, relentlessly. It’s not until the weight of the other man, who was once a celestial being, settles against Sam’s back that Sam closes his eyes and lets it all go as he so rarely gets the chance to do. Cas is around him, against him, inside him and even though neither of them have wings it feels like they’re flying somewhere between their tangled fingers and gasped breaths.
By the time Dean shows up in the morning, two hours early with coffee and doughnuts in tow, Cas is limping his way to the bathroom and Sam is sprawled in the middle of the disheveled bed gleefully cataloging all the places he aches in that he’s never ached in before.
Dean makes a gagging noise and Sam smiles.
His life is very occasionally perfect, in incredibly unpredictable ways.