Castiel leans gratefully, just lets Sam support most of his weight for a moment. He feels oddly violated, though not by Sam. Never by Sam, no. He doesn't really know why he feels even more dirty now that he plug is gone. Maybe because he can't even do this along, has let himself be put into this position. There's a disconnect between his mind and body that's slowly bleeding into him again, and he welcomes it, doesn't really want anything to do with his limbs right that very moment.

His breath ghosts over Sam's wet shoulder, lips pressed to the warm flesh just because he doesn't want to move his head.

"I was the centerpiece for orgies. He said he wanted our guests to have a chance to worship me, and I... I wanted that. To be laid on an altar and pray with my flesh. So I agreed."