(no subject)

[elinorwise]

“I do feel guilty and sorry for you, but that’s not why I want to kiss you,” Cas says. Sam forces back a scoff. His bitterness isn’t a good look. So he keeps quiet. “I like how it feels.”
“And getting a download of my time in hell inspired you to try?”
Sam says it as a joke, but he realises that maybe that’s exactly what happened.
He feels pricky and ashamed, and his skin feels tight and hot. He’s been caught up in his own feelings of shame and humiliation that it didn’t occur to him that maybe that’s not what Cas would feel when seeing it at all.
Maybe it just turned him on.
Sam is spiralling, fast.
“What does hell have to do with this? You told me you had feelings for me before hell.”
“You, you didn’t,” Sam says. He’s not thinking very clearly. He wants to beg Cas to explain just what changed his mind.
“I did,” Cas says. It’s jarring. Sam’s nearly certain it’s a lie, which makes him feel coiled and panicky.
“No, no, I’m...” Sam doesn’t know how to express himself. He’s just the demon blood addict who started the Apocalypse. He’s a lot of bad things, he knows that, and now Cas sees it all flayed out in detail. Sam’s head feels foggy and cold and the mist won’t wipe off the windshield. Cas is Dean’s friend, for fuck’s sake. Just because Sam couldn’t help but love him too doesn’t mean anything. “Cas, it’s okay. I can handle rejection.”
It's not like Sam is actually Lucifer.

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