Sam Winchester (
fromfryingpantofire) wrote2013-12-16 03:42 pm
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He's as damned as he seems/And more Heaven than a heart could hold (NSFW)
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?"
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?"
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"Is it bad?"
He doesn't want it to be bad. It feels like failing Sam all over again.
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It was worse than Sam would have liked, honestly, partly because of the cane stripes. He'd done his best to keep the strokes moderate, letting the stripes cause more of the pain, but forty strokes was forty strokes and it showed. He shifted, reaching into the bedside table to get out the bruise cream. "No getting dressed until the cream dries," he reminds Castiel as he starts to apply it, keeping his touch soft and gentle as he stroked his fingers across Castiel's skin. "And we'll do this every morning before we start for the day. So I can make sure it's healing all right."
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"Understood."
Despite that, his voice sounds light, because Castiel is glad to be able to follow instructions that are easy, that come from a place of caring.
"Thank you, Sam."
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It's not that Sam's words upset him. On the contrary, he needs to hear them. Needs to be reminded of how to do this properly, how this works, how this is meant to be.
Castiel swallows, fingers curling inwards a little more. "I want to be punished," he murmurs, as if it needs to be stated again. It's not that he's begging for a punishment now, no. But... the feeling still hasn't quite ebbed away. "If anything, I made it worse."
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It won't be easy, Sam knows that. It's all pretty physical and will involve a certain amount of pain. But movement will also help it heal better and it won't allow Castiel's muscles to tighten up. He finishes with the cream, settling back to allow it to dry in the air.
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It's not argument, not a way for Castiel to beg his way out of things. But it's a point to be considered. Training means Dean will become very aware of the extent of what makes Castiel's movements sluggish and accompanied by pained gasps and grunts.
Castiel isn't even ashamed of it, oddly. But Dean is also his friend, and he is reluctant to cross lines.
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He still takes a moment to consider it before nodding. "I think Dean already has a pretty good idea, but we'll hold off on the training with him this week. But you'll still have your training with me."
And he would likely end up going a little easier on Castiel, even if he tries not to. Because his lover is hurting right now and part of it is his own fault. "It's not something we have to worry about tonight, though. And once you're dressed and moving again, we'll go do some research, all right?"
Another day, probably, and he'll change the collar to their favored blue one. Let Castiel understand that he's forgiven, even if some aspects of the punishment still are in place.
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He likes research, to be fair, so it's not too harsh a punishment. But Castiel knows, and Sam knows, and that makes it punishment enough between them.
For now, he lets his eyes close, exhausted both physically and emotionally. He's brought this on himself, hurting Sam in the process, and he knows he can't get away from that without punishment. He's still glad that it's... mild, for the scope of his failure.
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It's not the easiest thing in the world, working through things. But Sam does switch the collar out the next morning for their blue collar, a certain sign that all is forgiven. From there, it's only a matter of waiting until Castiel is healed.
The day that Sam wakes up to Castiel still asleep and laying on his back (some nights, they both move a lot in their sleep) is probably one of the best for Sam. He smiles, leaning over to kiss Castiel, fingers drifting up to play along the top of the collar where it met Castiel's skin.
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This applies to all times of the day. No matter how late or early, Castiel is reluctant to get up.
Now he grumbles a little, but quickly wakes enough to reciprocate those dresses and give an appreciative sigh at the fingers playing along the top of his collar. Feeling loved and owned right upon waken is an even better way to start the day.
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After several moments, he pulls back, leaning over Castiel with a smile as he reaches up to stroke his hair. "Morning," he murmurs softly. "How are you feeling?"
While Castiel's sucked him off a few times since the punishment, there hadn't been any penetrative sex. Because what Sam wanted had to be done on Castiel's back.
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"Good morning, Sam. I feel well rested," he admits. It's rare that he sleeps poorly when he's with Sam.
And it takes a moment, but he does seem to realize, after a while, that he's on his back. "And much better, it seems."
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He smiles, moving his hand down from Castiel's collar to his chest. "It would certainly seem so," he agrees, letting his fingers brush across Castiel's nipples. "I've been looking forward to this for a while."
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His voice is a husky rumble, clearly more than just on board with the idea.
"Are we playing today?"
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Sam raises his head, looking down at Castiel with a smile. "You've been so good and patient the past few days."
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"I tried to be. I owed you that much, at least."
He'd failed Sam before, how could he not at least try?
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It was something that was always likely to be difficult for Castiel to understand and he might always feel that way. But Sam did his best to explain the difference if he could.
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Because he loves Sam, as a sub and as just Castiel both, loves him as his dom and just as Sam Winchester, with all his beauty and his brightness and his shortcomings and his darkness.
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He bent his head, pressing kisses along Castiel's collarbone as his hand began to move down, tracing over the chastity device before sliding past his balls. "Spread your legs, Cas. I want to work you open."
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It's comfortable, especially after these last few weeks of healing, and it's more intimate than the way they usually fuck during scenes. Castiel shivers at the thought.
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Castiel moans softly for Sam, and the ring of muscle flutters as the fallen angel shivers with want.
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If anything, it makes him want more.
"Yes. I'm up for this, Sam. Please."
Always. It's been too long since he's felt Sam, though he deserved the long break in their intimacy.
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