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.

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]

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.