He's as damned as he seems/And more Heaven than a heart could hold (NSFW)

[fromfryingpantofire]

They tended to switch bars a lot, never sticking to any one location and they'd drive out a ways away from the bunker. Lebanon was way too small for them to hit up the bars there very often, but it wasn't that far to the state line and there were other towns around, too.

Sam and Dean had gone their separate ways tonight, each planning to hustle pool or cards in a different place. As usual these days, Castiel had come with Sam. The former angel had picked up pool rather quickly, which wasn't surprising considering it was pretty much all math and angles. For the moment, though, Sam was the one cleaning the table with the current set of drunkards who had decided to try their hand against him.

He looked up just as he finished the current game, gathering up the money that had been bet. He'd been going to call out to Castiel, but the sound died in his throat when he saw someone else was talking to the other man. Someone who was entirely too close for Sam's liking.

He nodded to the other players, pocketing the money before walking over and putting a hand between Castiel's shoulder blades before letting it slip down. "Hey, Cas. Who's your friend?"

Comments

[freetobe]

Castiel nearly moans right there, but knows the rules better than to give in. But Sam's hand between his shoulder blades immediately brings back memories, of Sam's hand roughly grabbing him, of fingers in his hair, sharp slaps on his rear, punishments and rewards in the privacy of their bedroom, the semi-public of cheap motel rooms with thin walls, the back of car seats, public washing rooms and back alleys.

The tattoo is still fresh, the touch still burns a little. It goes straight between his legs, but the chastity device keeps him gentled. He merely looks up at Sam from underneath dark lashes. The stranger's hand hasn't moved from where it was grasping his thigh, fingers curling inwards. Now, the man is confused.

The poor soul doesn't know that Castiel is taken in the most thorough, encompassing way. Raising his hopes was, sadly, necessary. Pets occasionally urinate on their master's bed, but Castiel considers himself far above such tricks. No, he knows how to express his displeasure at being left alone and unattended for too long. He knows how to get a rise out of Sam, and gain almost more attention than he can take.

He almost regrets pushing quite this far as he imagines the effect this will have on Sam.

Almost.

"This is Otis. He was just telling me about the lovely home he's made of his truck, and has offered to show me."

No, Castiel isn't that naive, not any more. He knows that. Sam knows that. Everyone here knows that, except poor Otis, who is still too confused to remove his hand, perhaps considering if these two come in a package as he absent-mindedly rubs along Castiel's warm flesh.

[fromfryingpantofire]

And, of course, Sam isn't dumb. He knows very well why Castiel is doing this and part of him does feel chastised.

The rest of him? Well, the rest of him is going to remind Castiel of the rules and how to handle waiting properly.

"Otis." Sam smiles, though not enough to raise his dimple. And definitely not enough to bring the expression to his eyes. "While I'm sure that your truck is quite comfortable, I'm afraid Cas won't be able to take you up on the tour. We were just getting ready to leave."

[freetobe]

It's at this that Otis finally seems to catch on, and withdraws his hand. Holds both hands up palms outwards, even, as if he can see something in Sam's eyes that rather gives him pause.

"My bad, didn't not know blue eyes was spoken for, kid."

And Castiel doesn't even nod at him, just glides off his stool to stand next to Sam, eyes down but lips tugged into a small smile. "As you wish, Sam."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam's hand drops to Castiel's lower back and his expression lightens a little bit when he looks to Otis. "I know. And that's not entirely your fault."

Not entirely because Sam knows Castiel. If Otis had actually ASKED, Castiel would have told him. But the fact that he hadn't meant it was at least partly his fault. "Cas and I will be having a discussion about that."

He pressed his hand tighter against Castiel's back, turning him toward the door and staying close as he walked him outside. He went directly to the car, opening the door. "Get in," he said, voice steady but not giving much away.

[freetobe]

Otis, Castiel is sure, will later go on to have a wonderful night. He's a decent man, even though the bed in the truck certainly suggests otherwise. But he's just lonely and on the road a lot, and there will come a day when he will find someone else with blue eyes who reminds him of a love long lost, someone who will go to the back of his truck with him, and then hold him as he weeps. They will go on to be wonderful friends.

Castiel's story, however, takes him far away from such things. Instead he lets Sam walk him to the car, anticipation tingling up and down his spine. Not fear, never fear, not with Sam. But there will be hell to pay, certainly. So he knows better than to argue now. He just slides into his seat, waits for Sam to get behind the wheel.

"I was merely making a friend," he points out.

[fromfryingpantofire]

When he thinks back on it later, Sam will probably feel bad. Otis didn't really do anything to earn his anger, but Sam hadn't really taken it out on him, either. It's not like he can begrudge someone who lives out of their truck, not when he and Dean did the same for so many years.

He also knows better than to drive angry, which is why Sam gets behind the wheel and sits there for a moment, breathing slowly to let the tension out. "Friends don't try to feel that far up your thigh," he pointed out, glancing over at Castiel. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Ah, Cas. What am I going to do with you?"

It's enough to make him feel more steady about turning on the car and putting it in drive. Castiel's earned his punishment. And there's time to think about that on the way home.

[freetobe]

Sam should definitely punish him. It's the obvious answer, one that has Castiel's body already humming in anticipation. A shiver runs down his spine. He may have overstepped the line he merely meant to toe - but really, in general, it's always worth it.

The truth is that Castiel needs to be punished, sometimes. It's how Heaven used to work - do wrong, be punished. All his punishments in more recent years have been self-inflicted. To be punished for a transgression like this, it restores a balance inside Castiel he missed.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

And he really is. But he needs the reassurance of a punishment, occasionally. Tonight is such a night. He just needs to be reminded that the rules are in place, and the leash isn't dangling loose.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam nodded at the apology. "Accepted," he agreed, keeping his eyes on the road. "Now. Tell me what, exactly, you are sorry for."

It's almost rote now. He can tell when Castiel is at the point where he needs to be taken down a peg, when he's acting out in the need for punishment. But Sam always makes him list his sins, the reasons why he needs to be punished this time, because he wants to be certain that Castiel understands why. And correct him when he thinks he's done certain things that need to be punished but which Sam doesn't consider worthy of it. It's all part of learning the difference between divine judgement and their relationship.

[freetobe]

He licks his lips, fingers clenching a little on his leg. This part is... difficult, but Castiel appreciates the necessity and the effect. Because this isn't about blind devotion to a higher purpose. This isn't Heaven - this makes much more sense than Heaven. This is just, and good, a purification for them both.

"You told me to wait for you by the bar. I deliberately approached a man I knew would be amenable to my looks. I let him touch me, and let him believe I was available for sexual intercourse with him. I not only failed to follow your comman, but I was disobedient on purpose, to chastise you when it was not my place, and to get your attention when it needed to be elsewhere."

Castiel licks his lips.

"I disobeyed because I want your punishment. For that, I am sorry."

The one where a club visit goes wrong

[freetobe]

The club has become a favorite little haunt of theirs. Sometimes it's just good to know that they're far away from Dean and Kevin, that they can take all the time in the world to play. Castiel takes a secret sort of pride and pleasure in how he can walk the hallways and rooms of the club naked, with nothing on his skin but their favorite collar - blue, for his eyes - and a chastity device keeping him soft for Sam's pleasure. He's on display like this, and they both know he draws everyone's eyes.

Who wouldn't look at him? Tall, tan, smooth skin with a few fading but not faded red lines from their last play, carrying himself as if he owns the place, and only casting his eyes down when he steps into place with his even taller, stronger dominant.

They make a pair that many in the club envy, and happily watch whenever they choose to leave the door open.

Castiel was unsure about that the first time Sam introduced him to it all, but they work well together, communicate thoroughly - if Castiel was uncomfortable, it wouldn't happen. They experiment like that often, try something, and immediately disregard it if it's not what they were hoping to get out of it.

They often get requests from people wishing to join them, and so far have declined. But the notable interest has got them talking. Neither of them is sure whether they want to invite others to their play or not. It's Castiel who finally suggests that if they're neither opposed nor in favor, they should try it, once, see how it suits them. He figures for him, it won't be different than Sam using toys on him once he gets into the right mindspace for their play. Besides, Sam will be there every step of the way, and if it doesn't do anything for them, they can call it quits at any point.

It's why he finds himself reclining against the pillows, slick hole clenching around a dildo barely filling enough compared with Sam. His eyes are half lidded as he watches Sam talk to James, their experimental partner for the night. He almost smiles, because it's obvious that as usual, with Sam, he's in good hands. James has the law laid down for him; a strict, thorough set of rules to abide by.

[fromfryingpantofire]

It had been James they picked because he was appealing enough to them both. And he'd been with the club longer than they had. They hadn't heard anything bad about him, so they'd decided to take a chance.

Though some chances weren't happening at all. There were rules in place, Sam laying out the hard nos for Castiel and for the scene. No removing the collar or the chastity device. (Not that he could, since Sam wore the key around his neck.) No humiliation. And absolutely no choking. It was one of those things that Castiel had never had to tell him about. When you could remember dying because you couldn't breathe, choking became much less interesting. And condoms. Always condoms.

Finally, Sam stepped back. "I'll be right over here, watching. Everything goes all right, I'll join you for the aftercare." Because no way was he leaving Castiel's aftercare to somebody else.

He stepped around James, walking over to the bed and bent down to kiss Castiel's forehead. "Remind James what your safeword is, angel."

[freetobe]

Castiel smiled up at Sam, grateful for the affection. It reminded him that Sam was close by, that this wasn't just someone else laying his hands on Castiel, but someone else touching him for Sam's pleasure. James seems charming enough, nice smiles, a cheerful "You got it boss" for Sam.

When Castiel locks eyes with him and says "Leviathan", James' expression turns serious and he nods.

All in all, Castiel feels that he's in good hands. James touches him, gently at first to get to know the feel of Castiel's skin. He smiles when he pulls back and looks through the floggers Sam and Castiel have cleared for possible use. "On your hands and knees, then. I want you to look into your masters eyes while you count out the strokes.

It's exhilarating, to keep his eyes on Sam, to keep his cock soft in its confines and to keep a count of strokes as James lays into him. His strokes are very different from Sam's, neither better nor worse, just coming at an entirely different angle. They reach ten when Castiel can feel himself floating a little already, eyes slipping as James rounds them off with several slaps to his ass.

Still, he's not sold on the concept of being shared. He doesn't mind, not really, but being watched by Sam while someone else works him is not half as thrilling as being worked by Sam with other people watching. Not a complete failure then, but not necessarily something he wants to pursue in the future.

That's what he thinks while James manhandles him onto his back, removes the dildo, prepares his own erection with a condom and lube and shoves into Castiel.

Not being able to look into Sam's eyes takes what little magic there was in it, pulls Castiel right out of the space he was floating towards. James is good, but that's not the issue - it's not how hard he fucks Castiel, but how he's just not Sam, lacks the precision to keep Castiel on an edge between pleasure and pain. One hand rubs up and down the side of Castiel's neck, no doubt meant to soothe - but it just means the fallen angel tenses up, not pleased with this. He has no orders, which means he can only lie still and take it, which makes him feel like more of a toy and less of a sub, and the hand on his neck makes him uncomfortable enough that he opens his mouth to call the whole thing off.

James leans forward before he can speak, which means he inadvertently blocks Sam's view, one hand burying in Castiel's hair while he presses their foreheads together. His weight is on the other hand right now, and before Castiel can comprehend what James does - does accidentally, which makes it worse, because it means he's not in control, he's careless, he shouldn't handle a sub - his air is cut off. Castiel tries to take one breath, then two, silently, neither filling his air with lungs.

And just like that, it's not a man above him, but black goo wafting into dark water that closes over his head, fills his nose, his mouth, his lungs. He can't breath, can't call it off, can't call for Sam, can't call the safe word, something that should never ever happen when he's not gagged or having his mouth fucked. His hands claw at James' arms as darkness creeps into the edge of his vision. What is erotic for many people is a terror for Castiel, something that haunts his nightmares and makes him feel uncomfortable around large bodies of water or having his breath restricted in any way, sexual or not.

Castiel is in a full blown panic before James even realizes that he's choking him.

[fromfryingpantofire]

On Sam's side, it's not nearly as fulfilling as he'd thought it might be, either. Oh, James does well enough. Though Sam thinks he's too careful in many ways. For instance, Sam knows damned well that Castiel can take more than ten strokes, that only strokes across the ass are a bit boring. Especially when there's the thighs and the shoulders open as well.

Still, Castiel's not calling out, so Sam doesn't put a stop to things. Honestly, though, he mostly finds himself bored, especially when James turns Castiel over, breaks their eye contact.

Everything changes in a second, though. There's a definite change in the tension of Castiel's body before James bends over him and Sam's already leaning forward before the panic breaks. By that point, he's on his feet and two long strides have him grabbing James by the shoulder and pushing him back, taking him away from Castiel. He sees where James's hand had been, what he must have done. And as much as he wants to berate the other man, Sam's only thought for the moment is gathering Castiel up in his arms, listening to the way he sobs for air.

"I'm here, baby. I've got you, Cas." Reaching up to stroke his hair, sliding his fingers through it, holding the former angel tight to let him know that he's there.

[freetobe]

Castiel is very still for a moment, just gulping in air and clinging to whatever holds him up, not even all that aware that it's Sam - though of course it is, who else could it possibly be? Castiel can still taste water in his mouth, though, brokenly whispers his safe words three times, and finally tries to pull back, needs to be let go so he can come back to himself for a moment now that Sam has taken the brutal edge of panic away.

Castiel curls away from everything, closes his eyes. Doesn't hear what, if anything, Sam says to James, just murmurs Leviathan under his breath every now and then, while reminding himself: The Leviathan are gone. He can breathe. He can die, too, but not right now. Right now he's safe, he can breathe, he's not drowning. Except he can still feel the way James put too much weight on his throat, can feel the exact shape of the bruise this will leave.

Castiel doesn't notice that once Sam has James out of the room, someone from staff immediately blocks the half-closed door - not closed all the way, not until Sam is back, in case that isolation is worse for Castiel. The guy stands there to shield him from prying eyes until his dom can return, and Castiel would be grateful if he wasn't struggling to pull himself into back into functioning properly. It's just all too much, and he feels disgusted with himself, with the red stripes on his skin that someone else left, with the slick feeling between his legs that wasn't driven there by Sam but by a stranger, with how he's allowed someone else to touch him, brought this upon himself. And now the collar weighs too much, feels too tight all of a sudden, and Castiel wants nothing more than to be home, wearing Sam's clothes and burrowing into Sam's sheets, somewhere unquestionably safe.

He needs Sam.

[fromfryingpantofire]

After so long together, Sam's nearly psychic when it comes to Castiel. Or maybe it's some leftover manifestation of his demon blood abilities. Whichever it is, he's grateful for it because it means he knows that, when Castiel turns away from him, it means he's safe enough to take James out of the room.

What happens afterward is a dressing down in front of everybody in the club's common room. Sam had allowed him to get his pants and shirt, but not to dress before telling him off in front of God and everybody. Because there was no way he was going to let anybody think that James was somebody they could leave their sub with.

When James stammered out that choking Castiel had been an accident, Sam nearly came after him physically.

Instead, he turned and walked to the locker room area, grabbing his coat and the bag with Castiel's clothing in it before heading back to the room they'd booked for the night. He nodded to the staff member. "I'm going to have to borrow the blanket," he told the man. "I'll bring it back in a few days, but I'd rather get Cas home and I'm not sure he's up for being manhandled enough to dress."

The guy nodded. "Do what you gotta. We'll make sure you have a straight line out."

And, honestly, Sam couldn't have said how much that meant to him at the moment. He stepped past, shutting the door so that he could go to Castiel in private. "Cas? Cas, it's Sam. I'm going to touch your shoulder, all right? You're safe and nobody else is in here but me."

Once he'd let Castiel know that, he reached out, laying his hand against the man's shoulder.

[freetobe]

Castiel and Sam had gone through their fair share of traumatizing scenes, but never to the extent that either of them had been shellshocked. Oh, Castiel had to employ the safe word before, and Sam had to force him to use it, to, back when he was too prideful to mind his own limits. This was without precedent. There was little telling, therefore, for how exactly Castiel would react.

But where his panic had made him violent, now that it had subsided and he was left with the shock of James' screw up, Castiel felt drained. The touch to his shoulder was a balm, and he crawled into Sam's arm. "I'm sorry," he muttered into the fabric of his shirt. Not knowing what had happened outside, he wasn't sure, now, if this mistake was his fault - bringing up one bad memory tended to wash the others up, too, and right now Castiel was trying to sort through sexual humiliation coupled with the real trauma of drowning, Naomi's torture and mind-washing, the way everything that went wrong in Heaven was placed as blame onto his shoulders. There was no way he could evaluate the situation clinically, right then - which was good for James continued life and safety, because Castiel might be a sub, but he was also a deadly former warrior of Heaven.

Instead, he merely clung to Sam, knowing by instinct that if any safety was to be had, it would be here, because if punishment was in order, it would be swift.

Still, for safe measure, he muttered "Leviathan" into Sam's chest, too, trying to end a scene that clung to him like cobwebs.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam reached up, stroking his fingers through Castiel's hair as he settled against his chest. "The scene's over, Cas," he replied, keeping his voice clear and steady. The anger was spent outside. He wouldn't allow it here, when Castiel was already so fragile. "What happened wasn't your fault. I'm sorry I didn't act sooner, didn't see where that could go. But it's over now and I'm going to take you home, okay?"

There were things that needed to happen, but some of them could happen once they got back to the bunker. For now, Sam's hand dropped to the collar and he managed to undo it with one hand, letting it go slack before pulling it away from Castiel's neck so he could tuck it in his pocket. "See. Scene's all done." He kissed Castiel's forehead, then reached over to grab the other side of the blanket to pull it over the other man. "I'm going to carry you out of here, all right? You don't have to do anything, just stay wrapped up and I'll get you home."

[fromfryingpantofire]

There were rules that Sam and Castiel had put in place when it came to being on the road. When they were together, there was sex but no scening until after the case had been finished. They needed to be able to move and move quickly, if necessary.

During the times when Sam and Dean went out to hunt and Castiel was left at the Bunker with Kevin as research backup, they talked each night but rarely more than general conversation and a couple of 'I love you's toward the end of the phone call.

But once the hunt was done, Sam made certain to pay for an extra room. That way, Dean could celebrate his way and Sam could celebrate his. He stretched out on the bed, punching in the number for Castiel's cell phone and settled back, humming to himself as he waited for his lover to pick up on his end.

[freetobe]

He was in the kitchen, cleaning up the leftover dishes from dinner when his phone buzzed. Castiel wiped his hands, glanced through the door to see that Kevin was still enjoying his video game. Only then did he answer the phone with a warm smile that was obvious in his voice.

"Sam."

There's a tingle down his spine. He misses him, his lover and his dom, and every time he calls there's a certain anticipation - good news, bad news, getting to know when Sam will return.

It's always good to see his name on the display.

"Are you and Dean well?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam smiles, closing his eyes for a moment when he hears Castiel's voice. It's always good to hear, especially after a long night or day working a case. "Yeah, Cas, we're fine. Just in for the night. We'll be on the road home tomorrow."

Which is always good news, as far as he's concerned. Home means being back with Castiel, sleeping spooned against his back. He's gotten used to having the former angel in his bed. In his life. Hunts without him there are difficult.

"I know I've called a bit early, but I don't suppose you could get away for the rest of the night?" Not that the call will take that long, but he mostly wants to know if there's stuff that Castiel can't walk away from. "I can call back later if you need me to."

[freetobe]

Get away for the rest of the night.

Well that's... promising. Castiel squirms a little, then nods, if only to himself, and licks his lips. Sam will be back tomorrow night... but it seems he has plans for tonight, as well.

"Hold on," he breathes into his phone, then walks into the living room. Informing Kevin that the dishes are done and he'll retire for the evening now to catch up on some reading is the perfect way to make sure he won't be disturbed - the prophet prefers not to let Castiel accidentally drag him into further research that he doesn't need to do, after all.

A little while later, the door to Sam's and Castiel's shared bedroom closes, and there's the distinct click of a key being turned.

"I'm alone now," he lets Sam know.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam waits patiently, listening to things on Castiel's side of the phone. The case has been a long and difficult one, keeping him and Dean away for over a week now. So a little reward for himself and Castiel for their patience is obviously necessary.

"Good," he murmurs once he hears the door close and lock, once he hears Castiel's confirmation. "You've been so good and patient during this hunt, Cas, and I know it's been as hard for you as it has been for me. And while I fully plan to reward you more fully tomorrow, I want to hear you tonight as well." He smiles, letting his happiness with Castiel show through his voice. "To start with, though, I want you to undress. Completely."

[freetobe]

Castiel swallows, and his tone drops into something lower, something more intimate. Something reserved for their scenes, because this is as much a scene as they can share right now, and he recognizes the subtle command behind Sam's wish.

"Thank you, master. I will."

It's strange to him. He's still getting used to phones and other devices like it, and for a moment, it feels weird to undress when he can only hear Sam, not see him.

But then, he'd never deny the request. So he takes a deep breath, puts the phone on speaker and places it on Sam's pillow while he gets undressed. His clothes rustle, and he keeps his voice low as he tells Sam what he's taking off and when. There's a strange intimacy to it.

[fromfryingpantofire]

It may help that Sam is never entirely silent. Each article of clothing is met with a sound or word of approval and praise. Sam's never been stingy with praise, not since he realized just how much Castiel needed it.

He reaches down, palming himself through his jeans but not making a move to his belt or zipper. "Never thought just listening to you get undressed could get me hard, but it's working." He lets his smile and arousal bleed through into his voice. "When you're ready, go put your clothes in the hamper, then go put on your collar. The blue one, please." One that he'd normally put on himself, but which he couldn't. But it was his and it would serve as a connection between them, a clear mark of ownership and grounding for Castiel.

[freetobe]

By the time Castiel is nude, he's also aroused, if not hard due to the cage, and Sam's words make his cheeks redden beautifully. Not in shame, but rather in pleasure. It pleases him that he can bring Sam this kind of satisfaction, this kind of arousal, just because he's following so simple a command.

"I'm glad this is pleasing for you, Sam."

But despite how Castiel tries to make this about Sam, it's obvious in his ever so slightly trembling voice that his own pleasure is there as well. As he puts the clothes in the hamper, his eyes slide down to the cage trapping his soft cock, keeping his arousal from manifesting physically, and he makes a soft sound, just audible enough for Sam to hear, as he runs his fingertips carefully over the plastic.

He belongs.

The blue collar slides easily around his neck, and once he fastens it, Castiel moans with relief. "I looked at it earlier today, master, when I cleaned our room. I wished you'd collar me. Thank you for providing."