Castiel watches Sam quietly as he moves for a moment, dreading what's going to happen almost more than he would dread going back to Jason right now.
Jason is going to be so furious with him.
For now, Castiel slowly peels off his shirt, careful not to hurt himself more than necessary in the process. The sweatpants pool down easily enough, too. There's nothing sexual about his nudity, not even remotely, despite the toy still tucked away inside of him. This is about Sam trying to make sense of the patchwork of bruises and abrasions, the signs of abuse that dominated his and Jason's bedroom, the suffering so well documented on skin that lost its healthy tan.
He's still slick between his thighs, with too little lube, semen and a little blood, not even worth the effort to clean up.
The only thing Castiel doesn't touch is the collar.
no subject
Jason is going to be so furious with him.
For now, Castiel slowly peels off his shirt, careful not to hurt himself more than necessary in the process. The sweatpants pool down easily enough, too. There's nothing sexual about his nudity, not even remotely, despite the toy still tucked away inside of him. This is about Sam trying to make sense of the patchwork of bruises and abrasions, the signs of abuse that dominated his and Jason's bedroom, the suffering so well documented on skin that lost its healthy tan.
He's still slick between his thighs, with too little lube, semen and a little blood, not even worth the effort to clean up.
The only thing Castiel doesn't touch is the collar.
He can't take it off, not yet.