If the situation was different, if they weren't in Hell and Sam hadn't tortured him every day, this would be awesome. The heat of the water was adjusted just right short of scorching to relax all his tense muscles, and the sponge bath Sam was giving him helped get rid of all the caked gunk that coated his skin over the last few week. It made him feel slightly like being stuck at a hospital, perhaps with a very special nurse who gave him remarkable attention, but it still felt nice.

Despite himself, Eliot allowed his guard to be lowered and relaxed into the careful, tender strokes. He couldn't be on the alert all the time, his fight and flight instincts have been drawn out and wrung repeatedly over the last few weeks. He was exhausted, and this unwound him like nothing else had.

His breath hitched at Sam's first touch, and he met Sam's steady gaze with one that was both troubled and wanting at once. So he closed his eyes like Sam suggested, not out of need to pretend the Sam was something he was not, but to actually feel what was being done to him, for him.

Going after the rest of his body wasn't what Sam said he'd do. Eliot tried to pull back at the unexpected touch to his nipples, but they were the most sensitive part of him short of his cock, as Sam well knew by now, and Eliot ended up moaning softly instead.