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]

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?"

[freetobe]

"Better."

It's an honest answer. Not good, but better. Getting there might still take a little time and effort, but he's well on the way. Castiel tucks his head under Sam's chin for a moment, enjoys the way those fingers comb through his hair.

"Did you sleep well, Sam?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Mmm. Always sleep better when you're with me." Mentally as well as physically. The night before hadn't been good because they'd been separated by the punishment, even while sleeping together. This is better.

He combs his fingers through Castiel's hair a few more times. "You must be feeling pretty stiff, though."

[freetobe]

"I am," he admits, keeping his eyes downcast and his body lax against Sam. This is nice, more so after last night. The rift is slowly starting to close properly. "I need you," Castiel whispers into his skin, and it's true. He needs Sam, needs his everything, always. Hates himself for jeopardizing it all just because of his own issues. They'll mend it together, though. Sam is amazing like that.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam hums softly, dropping his head a bit so that he can kiss Castiel's hair. Because it's there. "I need you, too," he murmurs, nuzzling the top of the other man's head. "Come on," he finally says. "Get undressed and I'll get some cream onto the bruises."

And he wants to see what damage was done. Because that will tell him how long they're going to be without sex. Not that Sam minds, much, but there's something at the back of his mind about how to set things to rights.

[freetobe]

Castiel swallows down his shame in order to comply, stripping gingerly and lying on the bed, face down. He's glad for the position - it allows him to hide his shame better. But at least some things are right with the world - he complies with protest or hesitation, following Sam's instructions peacefully once more.

"Is it bad?"

He doesn't want it to be bad. It feels like failing Sam all over again.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam reaches up, stroking his fingers through Castiel's hair. "Well. You're not going to be sitting easily for a while and you're going to be black and blue for a few days, but it's not that bad."

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."

[freetobe]

Castiel can't help but wince as Sam carefully massages the cream into his tender skin. It hurts, it's uncomfortable, but it's also necessary. Penance for his mistake and his mistreatment of his dominant.

"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."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"You can best thank me by not getting so lost in your head again that you think you can't talk to me." Sam leans over, pressing a kiss to Castiel's upper arm. Not his shoulder, that would be painful. And not very tasty for Sam himself. "I mean it, Cas. We're in this together and there's nothing you could say that would make me love you less. But if you feel the need to be punished, there are better ways to do it."

[freetobe]

Castiel's eyes stay downcast, limiting his field of vision to the pillow he's resting on. There's shame spelled in the slope of his shoulders, clear as day, and uncertainty in the slight clench of his fingers.

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."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Punishment is something we can work out another time," Sam says, resting his hand against Castiel's lower back. "Right now, the punishment is that I'm not going to go easy on you. You still have to do the training with Dean and I that we have set up, work on research and help with the weapons. None of that gets to slide."

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.

[freetobe]

"Dean is gonna know."

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.