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

[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."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Pfft. Kevin knows better than that." If Kevin can't remember where he got a book from, he leaves it on his table. It's much easier for Sam to put them back. One of the first things he did, after all, was memorize the Men of Letters' filing system.

Sam drops his hand to Castiel's hair, stroking it gently. Finally, he breaks the silence. "Dean told me about the news report yesterday," he says quietly.

[freetobe]

Castiel noticeably tenses at that comment. It's not the tension that comes when he tries to remove himself from a situation, but a decidedly uncomfortable one still. His fingers curl slightly in the fabric of Sam's jeans, and he can feel every lick of the cane and the flogger all over again.

"Did he."

He doesn't know what to say. How to explain that he needed punishment, needed someone to make him face the pain and suffering he causes, replicate it on his skin. Heaven deals swift punishments for transgressions too. Torture not unlike what happens in Hell. Worse in some ways, when they cut into your mind. Now that he's merely human, Castiel has no one left to rightfully punish him. No one but Sam, whose punishments he can only earn by breaking the rules they laid out for themselves.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam keeps his hand steady on Castiel's hair, feeling the tension and letting it sit there for a moment. Because Castiel has earned it, is allowed to be tense without Sam immediately trying to soothe it away.

He finally settles his hand at the back of Castiel's neck, above where the reddened skin from the night before lay. "I knew there was more going on last night than you were letting me see, but I didn't make the connection with the time of year. And I didn't ask, didn't try to get you to explain why you wanted to be punished so badly last night. I know, you might not have been able to properly verbalize it even if I had, but I should have tried." He goes back to stroking Castiel's hair. "I wish you had said something, though. We could have worked something out without you having to resort to such extremes."

[freetobe]

He turns around then, mindful of the hand in his hair and of the wounds on his back, until he can scoot closer and rest his face against Sam's stomach. It could be lewd, given the proximity to Sam's crotch, but really it's just Castiel seeking his dom's warmth, the security of his presence.

"I'm sorry."

Because he really, truly, is. What he did wasn't fair to Sam, to what they share. And now Sam is trying to place blame on himself.

"It's not your fault, it's mine. I shouldn't have pushed for something without giving you a chance to understand what and why. I was not good to you last night."

It could have gone differently, he thinks. Maybe they could have agreed on punishment instead of Castiel trying to provoke it and going too far, forcing Sam into something neither of them had really wanted.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I think there's enough fault here to go around," Sam replies, careful of Castiel's back and not wanting to hurt him more. "I think we can agree that it wasn't good for either of us last night and that we'll try not to do that again."

It could certainly be lewd, but neither of them is aroused by the situation. He combs his fingers through Castiel's hair again, just letting the motion settle them both.

[freetobe]

"I was never held accountable for everything I did. Yes, you and Dean were angry with me and eventually forgave me, but that was for the crimes I committed against you specifically."

It's difficult to talk about this, even now. But Castiel owes it to Sam. Maybe that, along with what happened last night, can be part of his punishment.

"But I haven't been punished for what I did to Heaven, to Earth. For the thousands whose lives I took."

And yet he's unaware that no one in the world can punish him as hard as he punishes himself. That, maybe, is something Sam can relate to better than anyone else.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I don't think there's a way to fully punish you for that," Sam admits. "Not the way that you think you need to be punished. Besides, I think you do a very good job of that yourself." Which, yes, Sam can very much relate to. Nobody has ever punished him nearly as much as he punishes himself for the things he's done in his best.

Probably the closest had been Lucifer. Sam refuses to even consider those methods.

"And I don't know about Dean, but for me? My forgiveness was never only about what you had done to me. My forgiveness was...well, for all of it. Because I know that desperation, the one that eats at you and makes you do things you wouldn't because there's a hope, just a glimmer of one, that things will turn out better if you go that direction. Even when it turns out entirely wrong." Sam lays his hand on top of Castiel's head, almost in benediction. "If I can't forgive you for that hope, why would I ever deserve forgiveness for what I'd done for similar reasons? I wasn't lying when I said that I still thought you were one of us. In fact, I think that may have made you more of a Winchester than anything else could have."

They'd all three of them fucked up for hope. For the love of something larger than themselves. Maybe they didn't deserve the forgiveness, but they still had it, anyway.

[freetobe]

Castiel turns his head. The angel isn't ideal to look up at Sam, but he manages. Has to, wants to. Sam is his anchor in so many ways, and to be so thoroughly forgiven and absolved of his sins... it's almost too much. It's more than Castiel deserves, certainly, and it's all so backwards. He should be the one comforting Sam, this precious man who's been through so much and deserve the love and forgiveness and trust of something holy.

So Castiel reaches up and cups Sam's cheek, strokes it with a thumb. It's rare that he reaches out in affection, mostly because he still struggles with the concept of physically showing it. He's worked out hugs, and he thinks he's doing very well with sex, but small gestures like this still sometimes baffle him. It just means he needs to practice applying them.

This seems like a good moment to do so.

"I'm very old, Sam. I've seen the dawn of Creation, witnessed the long path it took for scattered atoms to become everything around us right now." Castiel pauses, thinks of how to tell Sam this. And then just says it, with no regard to how such a blunt, profound statement might sound: "If weighed against the years of my existence, you shouldn't be much more than a speck of dust to me. A small spark of light, gone before it registers. But to me you're the most precious thing to have come out of my Father's efforts."

[fromfryingpantofire]

He has the love and forgiveness and trust of something holy, though. Something that Castiel proves once again with his gentle touch and loving, if blunt, words.

Sam reaches up, taking the hand against his cheek and turning his head to place a kiss in the center of Castiel's palm. "I don't even know if your Father is listening, but I still thank him every day for you coming into our lives." He reaches out, stroking his fingers over Castiel's hair again. "We should probably eat. Then I'll take you back to bed and we can get some of that bruise cream onto your back and ass."

Not something he would have said had Dean or Kevin been in the room, but safe enough for the moment. "I think it's probably going to be a few days before we can do much."

[freetobe]

"You could use my mouth."

Castiel almost isn't sure if he should suggest it. It feels almost like a reward, except without a scene around it it's really not. No, it would be for Sam's benefit, and his alone. A way for Castiel to make up for his mistake and insubordination, a way for him to thank Sam and redeem himself.

He absent-mindedly toys with a slightly loose button on Sam's shirt.

"I could keep you warm."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam hums softly. "Not right now," he says after a moment. "Not that I don't want your mouth, but I'd rather see to you, first. Maybe tonight, though." He isn't going to rule it out, after all. "But I think you could definitely keep me warm if we decide to take a nap after the cream is on."

Which...Sam is all for, honestly. His sleep was a bit broken, wanting to be careful of Castiel and make sure he hadn't hurt him too much. So a nap, now that he knows Castiel is all right, would be good.

[freetobe]

A nap sounds good. Castiel's own sleep had been more fitful than anything, mostly tossing and turning without much rest, body and spirit in pain and discontent.

A nap sounds good. A nap with Sam sounds better.

"I would like if we could do that," he admits. The choice is ultimately Sam's, and Castiel will defer to that. Their arrangement doesn't dictate that Sam has to call every shot for Castiel - he still very much is a fierce, strong kind of person, and would never blindly follow Sam's lead on a hunt, for example, too much of a strategist to follow without questioning. But in situations like this, Castiel is more than willing to hand himself over to Sam utterly, to let 'you and I' become 'we', and to let Sam make the decisions for 'us'. It's good for them, will ultimately help build them up again. Castiel can take the time for his spirit to heal, to get back on his own feet, and Sam can reassure himself that his sub isn't becoming too willful for their arrangement to continue.

[fromfryingpantofire]

"I think that it would definitely be a good thing. For both of us." Sam smiles down at him. "Food and coffee first. Though..." He eyed the tray. "The coffee might be a bit cold now."

Not a lot to be done about it. He isn't sure he wants to leave Castiel long enough to go warm it up again.

[freetobe]

"I don't mind. Unless you wish to warm it up... I have everything I could need." For now. Sam doesn't have to get up and leave on Castiel's account. "I will have coffee and food in a moment, I already had cereal..." he mumbles into the fabric of Sam's shirt, momentarily nuzzling closer.

Momentarily becomes a little bit more permanent when the warmth and familiar scent, the comfort of being so close and so loved, cause Castiel to drift off within three beats of his heart.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam can't help but chuckle once he realizes what Castiel's done. He smiles down at him, stroking his hair another moment before he shifts to carefully gather Castiel up. Not easy with the particular marks the former angel is carrying, but Sam's used to working around them. He brushes his lips over Castiel's forehead when it creases, easing him back to rest as he stands and heads for their bedroom.

He only stops by the kitchen long enough to let Dean know that they hadn't eaten, but things were better. And that he'll come and get some toast for them both later, once Castiel had woken again.

Then he finishes the journey, leaving the door open while he goes to place Castiel on the bed, careful not to jostle his back or ass or thighs too much before shutting the door and locking it to keep the other two out. Only then does he go to bed, moving so that Castiel is mostly laying over him, settled with his head on Sam's chest so that they can both rest easier.

[freetobe]

The nap has started a little earlier than Sam had intended, and Castiel isn't even aware of it. Just presses closer to his dom and keeps sinking more deeply into sleep. Restful, now that nothing hangs between them like a black cloud anymore. He still wears the black collar, and the bruises. Punishments on his skin, and the lack of play in the next few days will be further punishment. Enough, Castiel thinks. More than enough punishment for his own foolishness.

He wakes earlier than Sam, still not particularly used to sleep in general, but feeling rested. Disentagles himself, pads into the kitchen barefoot. Sees Dean dozing on a couch on his way over there while Kevin works on some translations. Dean put some leftovers aside for them, and Castiel heats them up before taking them back to their room along with hot coffee. Places plates and cups on the nightstand, and only then allows himself to wince, knowing he really needs that cream right about now.

So he crawls back onto the bed, crawls over Sam and gives him sweet, chaste kisses to wake him up.

[fromfryingpantofire]

It really doesn't take much to wake Sam up. The bunker is more secure than any hotel he and Dean have ever lived in, certainly, but that doesn't undo all of a lifetime of light sleeping. Though, with Castiel beside him, Sam tends to sleep deeper than he ever has in his life.

The chaste kisses do the job, though, rousing Sam to reach up and card his fingers through Castiel's hair with a hum of appreciation. "Hey. How're you feeling?"