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]

The bonds holding Castiel in place rattle as he pulls on them, though the only sound that leaves him is a choked off gasp, breathless. The pain isn't even too bad yet, but it's fire and lightning without the rush of endorphin to carry Castiel into subspace. He doesn't know how he will get to 50, but is determined to make it - even if he has to cry out, even if Sam will hear when he's close to breaking.

He's grateful that he doesn't have to count, at least. Counting would have wrecked him. Right now he'd rather lose himself in this, lose track of how much more there is for him to bear.

[fromfryingpantofire]

There's absolutely no pleasure in this for either of them. Sam does his best to keep the pain from building up too much in one area, switching between ass and shoulders and thighs so that each gets thoroughly reddened.

He has to stop around thirty, give his arm a break while listening to Castiel closely, watching his body to see if it's been too much.

[freetobe]

Castiel's breathen is definitely ragged. The last few hits made him cry out, but the break is giving him time to calm himself, get his bearings together. His body doesn't just ache, it hurts, badly so, and Castiel makes a frustrated sound as he shifts his weight, tries to alleviate the pressure.

He can do more. This is only a little further than they've ever gone, and he knows he can do it, knows he has to. Owes it to Sam, owes it to the thousands who died and suffered at his hands. Castiel's throat burns from the misuse of his voice, but once he finds his footing again, he stands steadily enough - waiting for more, willing to push himself through this, determined to make it, to not disappoint again - even if he has it wrong as to what would constitute a disappointment at this point.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Since Castiel isn't using his safe word, Sam takes a moment to look over his back and make certain there weren't any bleeding wounds. If there was blood, he'd call it there, but a quick inspection seems to show that the skin is unbroken.

The fact that Castiel can still stand is something, so Sam takes a breath and lets it out slowly. He can do this. "Twenty more," he tells the other man, more to let him know that they're closer to done than they were when they started.

Then he starts again, a little slower to give himself and Castiel a chance to call it if needed.

[freetobe]

Castiel manages until 40 before his legs give out underneath him and his voice breaks on an already hoarse cry, throat raw and cheeks wet with tears. "I'm sorry," he mutters, two, three times with a broken voice, struggling to get his trembling legs to carry his weight again instead of the rings above his head. "I can... I'm... I'm good..." But he isn't. Castiel is in pain, emotionally more devastating even than the physical, although right now both pains are fairly evenly matched. And he can't admit failure, doesn't want Sam's anger, doesn't want his safe word or another provocation, just wants to do something right, see something through that'll allow him to feel like he earned forgiveness, like he deserves it.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam immediately sets the flogger aside, moving to Castiel's side and wrapping his arm around the other man's waist. The area has far too many organs to be considered useful for flogging, so it's also a safe spot for him to put his arm, to help take the weight so that Castiel doesn't hurt himself.

"Cas, no," he says softly, reaching up to wipe the hair from Castiel's forehead. "That's enough." It was obviously more than enough. "I'm calling it. My safe word is Lucifer and that's it, Cas. No more."

[freetobe]

"It's just ten more," Castiel murmurs, but his voice is strained, weak. He cried himself hoarse during the punishment. "I can take ten more. Sam, I'm sorry. I can do this right."

But he can't even summon up the energy to put his feet properly on the ground to carry his weight. Part of him knows this is for the best, that he has to let Sam safe word them both out of this. Another part of him wants those last ten stripes, to not fail at his own punishment, to not get off so easily, like the other times.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"There's nothing right about this, Cas." Sam leans in, kissing his forehead. "Let me untie your wrists, then I'll help you to your knees so I can get your ankles."

If Castiel could stand properly, he might have finished. But there was no way that was happening. Sam shifts over a bit, using his own strength to keep Castiel upright so that he can untie his wrists. Now isn't the time for praise, but Sam does his best to let Castiel know that he's there for him, that he's worried and absolutely cares for him. He lets Castiel down slowly, following him down so that he can get to the other man's ankles as well.

[freetobe]

It's rare that either of them ever has to use their safe word to end a scene, and this marks the first time punishment has failed. It's Castiel's fault, he knows that - he pushed too hard, pushed for too much, and failed to take what he himself forced Sam to do. He feels more rotten than before, and hangs his head in silent shame as Sam helps him to the ground to undo his shackles.

Castiel feels like a nerve flayed raw and open, unable to to fully disentangle himself from the scene, his sins, his guilt. He needs something, but can't voice what it is, can't ask for it, can't possible communicate it to Sam, because he doesn't know what it is that he needs. For now, he simply worries that he broke what they share.

[fromfryingpantofire]

That was probably a bad way to phrase it, but it's all Sam has at the moment. He finishes untying Castiel, then moves up beside him to place his hand against Castiel's lower back. "Come on. Up onto the bed and I'll check your back. We'll put the bruise cream on in the morning."

It will have to be punishment enough, not having any further treatment for the stripes than what is absolutely necessary that night. Sam doesn't particularly like it, but Castiel is being too quiet and too hard on himself because the punishment was called early.

He reaches up, stroking his fingers through Castiel's hair. Then he does something he rarely does, leaning in to kiss Castiel's head near his ear. "I love you, Cas. No matter what, that's always going to be true."

[freetobe]

"Sam..."

And Castiel leans into the touch. The scene... is over, he can't possibly break the rules anymore than he has tonight, and he's received punishment. For now, that has to be enough, even if it doesn't feel like enough. No punishment scene can change the fundamental truth of their emotions, though, and for that he is grateful. So Castiel nods.

"on the bed. Bruise cream in the morning," he repeats softly, and complies without further protest or discussion, lowers himself onto his front so that Sam can check the large square of pain that is Castiel's back, ass, thighs.

[fromfryingpantofire]

It's definitely a relief when Castiel doesn't fight him any more on finishing the scene. Sam sighs, closing his eyes a moment before he stands and goes to sit on the bed, carefully not touching the skin of Castiel's back.

It's definitely difficult to look at and he knows he handed out far too much punishment for what had happened that night. He looks it over closely, though, and nods finally, satisfied that the skin didn't split and that Castiel was mostly okay. He pulls the sheet over Castiel, knowing he won't be able to take anything heavier tonight. Possibly not for a few nights.

Then he goes around the bed to climb in on his side, moving over so that he's right next to Castiel. "Come on," he says softly. "You can use me as a pillow tonight, yeah?"

[freetobe]

Castiel complies withthat as well, not because it's an order, but because it's an offer he had hoped would be made. It's the final proof that they'll be alright, the two of them, despite what happened tonight. He relaxes as he scoots over, aligns himself along Sam's side and rests his head on the man's chest. There's warmth to be shared there, a steady heartbeat that lulls Castiel slowly to sleep, a familiar scene that speaks of him. Just before he drifts off, he murmurs 'I love you, too'.

Castiel wakes up early the next morning, mainly because he aches and enjoyed deep, restful slumber in Sam's arms otherwise. Disentangling himself is not an easy task without waking the young man, but he manages, though it takes a soft kiss to prevent him from stirring awake. Castiel winces when he pulls on one of Sam's shirt and his sweatpants before shuffling outside the room quietly and towards the kitchen. Every step is painful, but he has some missteps to make up for, and the kitchen is where he can start on that. Just a simple breakfast.

He'll manage that without burning the place down, surely.

How hard can it be?

Luckily Dean wakes up and intervenes before Castiel can ruin the second carton of eggs. He notices the way the fallen angel carries himself, as if the presence of Sam's oversized giant moose shirt on Castiel wasn't indication enough, but he knows not to say anything. He can't claim to understand the life style they've chosen, but he knows it's not abuse. Everything they do happens with utter consent and under strict rules of safety and security. They're in good hands with one another.

Doesn't mean Dean's not gonna fuss over Cas if they had a... well. Uh. Rough night.

Heh.

So he presses a carton of cereal, a bowl, spoon and milk into Castiel's arm, certain that he can't mess that up, and sends him to laze on the couch and watch Kevin play video games or bicker with him over whether they can't switch to Saturday morning cartoons, or whatever, while he goes to make proper breakfast and coffee.

Castiel is a little shit and only takes the carton of cereal.

When Sam enters the kitchen, too long hair sticking up everwhere, Dean grins. "Mornin' sunshine. Cas is vegging on the couch. You two... good?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

Really, once Sam had fallen asleep, the night just flew by. He vaguely knew that Castiel got up well before him, but as he didn't hear any signs of pain or major discomfort, he let the kiss lull him back to sleep.

So when he enters the kitchen, blurry-eyed and in need of coffee, he's a bit surprised to see Dean there. The grin surprises him, too, before the question makes its way through his brain. "Huh? Oh, yeah, we're good. Just a bit of a difficult night. Cas was in a weird mood all last night."

I don't have a Dean account, so Dean now looks remarkably like Cas.

[freetobe]

Dean shakes his head a little. "Dude, no offense, but glad I didn't hear any of that. Coffee's almost done, I'm making eggs." He waits for Sam to sit down at the kitchen table, gives him a look and makes a nondescript gesture with the spatula. "So, uh. He didn't tell you? 'bout the news segment." Go figure. Castiel has learned life choices straight out of the Winchester Handbook of Stupidity.

I think Sam can tell the difference. ;)

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam sits, snorting at that. "Yeah, well. I'm pretty glad you didn't hear any of it last night, either." Because, seriously, it had been difficult enough for Sam to go through. He didn't need Dean or Kevin coming in because of what they heard.

He folds his hands in front of his face, though, raising an eyebrow. "Uh. Yeah, that would be a no. What news segment?" Sam had been researching most of the day the day before and hadn't gotten to see the news. Looks like that might have been a mistake.

ARE YOU SUUUUUUURE?

[freetobe]

"Yeah. It was about that time a few years when 'some crazy, unidentified man' went around the country and killed a few hundred people from religious backgrounds."

Dean gives him a look, because aside from Kevin they all know what happened back then. They all know who the man is.

"Cas got a bit weird after that. I told him to go to the bar with you in my place. Figured it'd take his mind off things."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam straightens up, frowning at that. Then cursing himself soundly in his own head. "I'd completely forgotten it was that time of year again." To be fair, when it had first happened, he'd been more out of it than normal. The days had all blurred together a bit. "That...actually explains a lot of his actions last night. He was doing a lot of pushing, a lot of wanting to be..." He trailed off because...yeah, not really a thing he ever talks about with Dean. Sure, Dean doesn't really mind their relationship, but he doesn't get it and he really wouldn't get the punishment stuff.

[freetobe]

Dean raises his eyebrows and, childishly, covers his ears. Because yeah, there are some things he has no desire to hear, and he has a feeling this will go into that direction. "Proud of you for getting laid and all, Sammy, but mind the details." Dean shakes his head, heaps eggs and bacon onto two plates and pushes them towards Sam with a dismissive shooing motion. "Go. You two girls have feelings to talk about."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"What can I say? I'm still making up for all the nights I spent sleeping in the Impala, man." Still, Sam smiles a bit and takes the plates. "Where'd you send Cas to hang out?" Because if Dean's seen Castiel this morning, he definitely sent him off somewhere. "Also, dude. Coffee." Pause. "Please."

Because both he and Castiel love their coffee.

[freetobe]

"Couch. He looked a bit stiff so I figured he can relax by being a know-it-all to Kevin or something. Better then watching him destroy our food reserves. Tell him he's helpless, man."

And two mugs of coffee come right after the plates. Sam's black, and Castiel's with too much milk and sugar, because apparently the sweet tooth runs in the family.

"Now shoo. I have a kitchen to clean."

Not that he can believe how girly he sounds... but really, Cas made a mess.

And Castiel, just as Dean told him to, was lunging on the couch with his box of cereal, munching on piece after piece. He's opted not to annoy Kevin until he gets cartoons, but is currently taking it upon himself to alert the boy to strategically poor decisions about five seconds after it's too late to do anything about them.

It's a good start into the day, all things considered, even though he failed on the breakfast front.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam grins at his brother, picks up the tray and heads for the living room. Or, at least, what they've designated as the living room. It works well and that's where the TV goes.

He rolls his eyes at Castiel and Kevin, shaking his head as he heads to Castiel's couch to put the tray on the coffee table in front of it. "Dean made food," he tells them both. But, of course, only sent Sam out with breakfast for himself and Castiel. Which is possibly a signal to Kevin that Sam and Castiel need to talk or something. Or maybe he's already made his own breakfast.

He pulls the coffee table close to the couch, touching Castiel's arm to get him to sit up a bit so that Sam can sit by his head.

[freetobe]

"Sweet," Kevin decides. With a last exasperated glance at Castiel, he saves his game and shuts it off. The TV right along with it. A last defiant act to deprive Castiel of entertainment as he heads towards the kitchen.

Castiel meanwhile sits up to make room for Sam and put away the cereal box. Better breakfast is to be had, now, and truth be told he's hungry.

"Good morning, Sam," he murmurs, still not entirely sure where they stand right now. Or what Dean might've said. But Sam's joined him on the couch with breakfast and coffee - therefore, it can't have been too bad. "I had hoped to bring you breakfast. I'm afraid we'll need to buy more eggs."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam chuckles, grabbing the remote control from where Kevin had set it before he sits down, putting a hand on Castiel's shoulder to let him know he can lay down again. If he wants to. Though eggs are hard to eat while laying down, he knows.

"We can get more eggs," he replies, reaching up to stroke Castiel's hair, ignoring the brand of the black collar around Castiel's neck for the moment. "I think Dean's more annoyed at the amount of cleaning he has to do. I keep telling him he should actually teach you to cook, but I don't think he wants to lose control of his kitchen."

It had been a slow thing, but the bunker has become home to them all. Even Sam, who has never had a home before in his life, has started to accept that.

[freetobe]

The eggs will have to wait a little. Castiel isn't too concerned with eating them hot or cold. But getting his head in Sam's lap takes priority. It's a good lap, especially while the black collar still remains firmly in place, and his entire back hurts. It's a comfort.

"Dean is very territorial like that," Castiel agrees. He doesn't mind though. Eventually Dean will cave and teach Castiel enough basics that he'll be able to feed himself something more advanced than a PB&J. "You are, too. I fear for Kevin's well-being whenever he puts a book back in the wrong spot."