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]

And, of course, Sam isn't dumb. He knows very well why Castiel is doing this and part of him does feel chastised.

The rest of him? Well, the rest of him is going to remind Castiel of the rules and how to handle waiting properly.

"Otis." Sam smiles, though not enough to raise his dimple. And definitely not enough to bring the expression to his eyes. "While I'm sure that your truck is quite comfortable, I'm afraid Cas won't be able to take you up on the tour. We were just getting ready to leave."

[freetobe]

It's at this that Otis finally seems to catch on, and withdraws his hand. Holds both hands up palms outwards, even, as if he can see something in Sam's eyes that rather gives him pause.

"My bad, didn't not know blue eyes was spoken for, kid."

And Castiel doesn't even nod at him, just glides off his stool to stand next to Sam, eyes down but lips tugged into a small smile. "As you wish, Sam."

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam's hand drops to Castiel's lower back and his expression lightens a little bit when he looks to Otis. "I know. And that's not entirely your fault."

Not entirely because Sam knows Castiel. If Otis had actually ASKED, Castiel would have told him. But the fact that he hadn't meant it was at least partly his fault. "Cas and I will be having a discussion about that."

He pressed his hand tighter against Castiel's back, turning him toward the door and staying close as he walked him outside. He went directly to the car, opening the door. "Get in," he said, voice steady but not giving much away.

[freetobe]

Otis, Castiel is sure, will later go on to have a wonderful night. He's a decent man, even though the bed in the truck certainly suggests otherwise. But he's just lonely and on the road a lot, and there will come a day when he will find someone else with blue eyes who reminds him of a love long lost, someone who will go to the back of his truck with him, and then hold him as he weeps. They will go on to be wonderful friends.

Castiel's story, however, takes him far away from such things. Instead he lets Sam walk him to the car, anticipation tingling up and down his spine. Not fear, never fear, not with Sam. But there will be hell to pay, certainly. So he knows better than to argue now. He just slides into his seat, waits for Sam to get behind the wheel.

"I was merely making a friend," he points out.

[fromfryingpantofire]

When he thinks back on it later, Sam will probably feel bad. Otis didn't really do anything to earn his anger, but Sam hadn't really taken it out on him, either. It's not like he can begrudge someone who lives out of their truck, not when he and Dean did the same for so many years.

He also knows better than to drive angry, which is why Sam gets behind the wheel and sits there for a moment, breathing slowly to let the tension out. "Friends don't try to feel that far up your thigh," he pointed out, glancing over at Castiel. Then he sighed and shook his head. "Ah, Cas. What am I going to do with you?"

It's enough to make him feel more steady about turning on the car and putting it in drive. Castiel's earned his punishment. And there's time to think about that on the way home.

[freetobe]

Sam should definitely punish him. It's the obvious answer, one that has Castiel's body already humming in anticipation. A shiver runs down his spine. He may have overstepped the line he merely meant to toe - but really, in general, it's always worth it.

The truth is that Castiel needs to be punished, sometimes. It's how Heaven used to work - do wrong, be punished. All his punishments in more recent years have been self-inflicted. To be punished for a transgression like this, it restores a balance inside Castiel he missed.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

And he really is. But he needs the reassurance of a punishment, occasionally. Tonight is such a night. He just needs to be reminded that the rules are in place, and the leash isn't dangling loose.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam nodded at the apology. "Accepted," he agreed, keeping his eyes on the road. "Now. Tell me what, exactly, you are sorry for."

It's almost rote now. He can tell when Castiel is at the point where he needs to be taken down a peg, when he's acting out in the need for punishment. But Sam always makes him list his sins, the reasons why he needs to be punished this time, because he wants to be certain that Castiel understands why. And correct him when he thinks he's done certain things that need to be punished but which Sam doesn't consider worthy of it. It's all part of learning the difference between divine judgement and their relationship.

[freetobe]

He licks his lips, fingers clenching a little on his leg. This part is... difficult, but Castiel appreciates the necessity and the effect. Because this isn't about blind devotion to a higher purpose. This isn't Heaven - this makes much more sense than Heaven. This is just, and good, a purification for them both.

"You told me to wait for you by the bar. I deliberately approached a man I knew would be amenable to my looks. I let him touch me, and let him believe I was available for sexual intercourse with him. I not only failed to follow your comman, but I was disobedient on purpose, to chastise you when it was not my place, and to get your attention when it needed to be elsewhere."

Castiel licks his lips.

"I disobeyed because I want your punishment. For that, I am sorry."

[fromfryingpantofire]

"Mmm. Pretty sure you're not actually sorry for wanting to be punished." Which was something that Sam didn't mind. After all, punishment did happen sometimes. "I should have made you apologize to Otis before we left, since you led him on. How do you think he would have felt, if he'd made it up your thigh and found my lock on your dick?" Sam had to stop, so he reached over, cupping Castiel between his legs. He could feel the hard plastic of the device even through Castiel's jeans and held it for a moment before letting go.

"I want you to sit there and think about what you did, Cas. I'm still deciding your punishment, but when we get back to the bunker, you'll go directly to our room, strip and kneel. No pillow."

[freetobe]

Sam is right, and this truly registers as regret to Castiel. It wasn't fair to Otis, what he did. This, maybe more than his willful disobedience, is something deserving of punishment. Whatever Sam decides to do tonight, part of it will be penance for manipulating an innocent bystander.

Although part of Castiel shivers at the thought of someone else's hand on the lock around his member, such a clear, unmistakable and absolute mark of Castiel, his pleasure, his pain, his everything belonging to the person holding the key.

Castiel squirms a little.

"What rules do you wish to enforce on talking?"

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam puts the car back in gear, watching the road. "You are not to talk unless spoken to, unless you are giving your safeword. You will be allowed to call 'yellow' to slow down, but the punishment will not stop until I'm finished unless you use your safeword." Even in punishment, Castiel could stop everything.

"I'm going to warn you now. You're going to be collared for the immediate future." He glances over at Castiel. "If the tattoo and the device isn't enough show of my ownership for you, then I am perfectly happy to be more clear about it."

The fact that they probably wouldn't leave the bunker much in the next few days doesn't mean that the collar won't be punishment in and of itself. After all, Dean and Kevin knew what it meant.

[freetobe]

Castiel lowers his head, equal parts thrilled and humbled. This is precisely what he needs to feel grounded again, and and he's once again grateful to have Sam taking care of him, owning him. He can live with Dean's and Kevin's knowing glances, with being in pain for a few days.

It will be good.

True to form, Castiel remains silent on the rest of the way home, taking Sam's lead. He was bad, he deserves the silence, deserves to be put back in place. Needs to be put back in place, even.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam remains silent as well, not even turning on the radio to relieve it. Still, the silence is relaxing for him in a lot of ways. It allows his mind to drift, to consider what needs to be done that night.

When they pull into the garage, Sam parks the car and sits back, letting out a slow breath. The anger is long gone by now, replaced only by the need to see this through, to put Castiel in his proper place as he's obviously needing. He reaches down, unbuckling his seat belt. "Directly to our bedroom," he reminds Castiel, turning to look at him. "Strip and kneel. I'll be in in a few minutes."

They won't be leaving the bedroom again tonight. Which means that Sam needs to grab a few items that they'll need before he follows Castiel. "If you're not on your knees when I get to the bedroom, I'm adding to your punishment."

Allow Castiel to decide how much punishment he needed to be set right.

With that, he got out of the car, waiting for Castiel to follow.

[freetobe]

Castiel follows in silence. Doesn't dare look Sam in the eyes. He makes a beeline for their bedroom, and strips with nothing but white noise rushing in his ears. The clothes are tossed in their laundry basket, and for a moment Castiel just stands there, naked, opening and clenching his fists and feeling like his insides are writhing inside of him. He's full of need for something he can barely articulate.

And so he sits on the bed instead of kneeling, eyes wet with tears he hopes he won't shed before it's time. Castiel feels disgusting doing this, knowing Sam will be angry, disappointed, rightfully so. Truth be told he doesn't know why he's not kneeling, not complying, just knows that he's full of need for something.

And so he waits, silent and terrified and in such obvious violation of Sam's order. Yet he can't move, is frozen to the spot and unable to think straight.

[fromfryingpantofire]

While Castiel goes to the bedroom, Sam goes straight to the kitchen. He grabs a couple bottles of water and makes a couple of sandwiches, simple things they can eat later or that can wait until morning. No matter how disappointed Sam might be with the way the night has turned out, taking care of Castiel will always be his first priority.

He also leaves a note for Dean and Kevin, letting them know that he and Castiel would be busy until possibly late the next morning. Let them make of that what they may.

He heads back for the bedroom, then, uncertain what he will find. There's a part of him that isn't surprised, though, to find Castiel sitting on the bed rather than kneeling as he had been told. Sam doesn't say anything, only going to his side of the bed to deposit the water and sandwiches before he comes back to stand in front of Castiel, watching for a few moments before he reaches out and curls his fingers into the hair at the back of Castiel's head, using it as a handle to pull Castiel's head back to look up at him.

"It's going to be like this tonight, is it?" he asks, voice calm but allowing a little of his disappointment to show through. Even though he's mostly concerned at how much Castiel seems to need punishment. Has he missed something before now? "Impatience and a very willful flaunting of my orders tonight."

[freetobe]

Castiel opens his mouth, closes it, and simply nods in the end. He can reply - Sam addressed him, questioned him. It's just that Castiel doesn't know how to reply to this. He's being a poor example of a good sub tonight, even though he usually takes great pride in being good.

Even when he pushes Sam, needles him for more, it's... not usually like this, not this bad. Castiel isn't willful or this deliberately opposing the commands usually.

And yet he finds himself resisting the pull of Sam's hand, making his situation so much worse. It's like...

Like...

There's a crack in his chassis, and just like that he knows what all of this is, why he needs Sam at his worst and the punishment inflicted upon him to push the boundaries of what he can take further than anything before.

Thousands have died because of Castiel, in Heaven and Earth. The Winchesters have forgiven him, but he was never properly punished for his transgressions. Neither his self-imposed exile in Purgatory nor Naomi's attempts to reprogram him felt like punishment and absolution, but... he needs to be punished. He understands that, now, with Sam. This world of theirs makes sense in a way nothing else has, before. There are rules, and he always knows he's breaking them when it happens. His actions don't have unforeseeable consequences. Castiel wants punishment for every life he snuffed out, every brother he killed, every transgression, every mistake. He needs it.

So he doesn't look at Sam. Averts his eyes and pushes the familiar hand away from his hair, sets his jaw in tense defiance. Pushes one more button, oversteps one more border. It's not the usual situation in which he toes the line to make sure it's still in place. It's not a ploy to get off to something harsher than their usual play.

Castiel has crossed the line, and keeps trying to cross it again when Sam puts him in his place as usual. What normally would serve to cull the defiance in him seems to pearl off him right now.

[fromfryingpantofire]

No, it's not the usual situation and that makes Sam all the more concerned. Not that he can show it yet because Castiel doesn't need or want concern. He wants his boundaries, his lines that he knows just how far to go across them to get Sam's attention. Normally, anyway.

Sam reaches out again, taking tighter hold of Castiel's hair and pulling his head back once more. "One," he says, quietly, watching Castiel's face. "If I get to three, I'm going to safeword out of this. I will not punish you while I'm angry. Do you understand?"

Something set this off. Something that's pushing Castiel far beyond his normal testing. And he knows it's not an answer he's going to get until morning. Assuming, of course, Castiel can stop being a brat long enough to answer the question.

[freetobe]

Castiel's jaw clenches a bit, but after a moment or two of silent deliberation, he nods.

Yes, he understands. Pushing to three is not something he wants to do. He needs this, needs Sam to lay into him and put him back in place, punish him for all he's done.

However, he might consider pushing to 2... later. For now, he opens his mouth, throat dry. He hates seeing Sam like this. Oh, he hates pushing Sam to this, too. And yet he still does it. Castiel will make amends for this, later.

"Yes. I understand."

[fromfryingpantofire]

There's a muscle that ticks at the corner of Sam's jaw, then he nods. He keeps hold of Castiel's hair, though. "Good," he says. "Then, when I let go of you, you're going to go and kneel down like I ordered you to earlier. You will be quiet while I prepare your punishment."

Which was going to have to be harder than he'd thought earlier. Which meant he needs to make a few changes, but nothing too much.

"Do you understand?"

[freetobe]

"Yes. I understand."

It's starting to hurt, the pull on his hair. That in turn is almost enough to make Castiel feel a little better. He doesn't like the look on Sam's face, and if he wasn't feeling so off his own footing he'd do anything to make it go away, bring his dominant back the way Castiel knows and cherishes him.

Instead, when Sam lets go of his hair, he complies with the order, slides off the bed and kneels on the floor. Now pillow. Just Castiel, naked, waiting for his punishment.

[fromfryingpantofire]

He holds back a sigh, because that's not what Castiel needs. Instead, Sam watches to make sure his order is complied with before he begins moving.

First, he pushes aside a rug, which normally hides two rings set almost flush with the floor. He picks up the rug, folding it up to set it aside as he makes his way to their chest of toys. He sets the rug aside, opening the chest to start taking out items, including a couple of D-rings and the black punishment collar. The one that is the same as their favorite blue collar in every way other than the color. The D-rings go into his pocket, along with several lengths of rope before he picks up a spreader bar, closing the chest before standing and walking back.

He places the bar on the bed before walking around to crouch in front of Castiel. "Chin up," he tells Castiel, unbuckling the collar as he waits.

[freetobe]

The black collar is... bad. Castiel dislikes wearing it because it stands for everything their relationship usually isn't about. The blue collar is a sign of belonging, something he picked himself and had Sam fasten onto him.

He'd sucked Sam off in the dressing cabin, fully aware that all the privacy they had was owned to a few rows of shelves and the music blasting in the store.

The black punishment collar had been a later purchase, and it rarely ever came into use. Castiel raises his chin, though not his eyes, refusing to meet Sam's. They are not equals tonight. Not in the way they usually are in this arrangement. Tonight, Sam calls the shots, and Castiel will do nothing but receive the punishment his dominant sees fit for him.

And oh, how he wants that.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Most of the time, if Sam were just asserting his ownership of Castiel, it would still be the blue collar. Tonight, though, Sam doesn't think Castiel needs the blue one. If he wants punishment, then he will get it in all of the forms Sam has for it.

He reaches around, buckling the collar behind Castiel's neck and double-checking that it's not too tight. Wouldn't do to choke Castiel as well, after all. Then he takes hold of the ring at the front of the collar. "Stand," he tells Castiel, even as he starts to move himself. So that Castiel HAS to stand with him.

[freetobe]

Castiel follows immediately. While delaying the inevitable would have been tempting, he is really not that interested in choking himself. That would take all of this into a completely different direction, one they both want to avoid. So he just stands up with Sam, swallows heavily.

Castiel is tense in anticipation of things to come. It's not the good sort of the tense, the aroused sort. This isn#t about pleasure and pain - it's almost exclusively about just one of those.

[fromfryingpantofire]

Sam would have let go before it got to actual choking. For the moment, he's mostly asserting his place as the dominant since Castiel seems to need that reminder.

He pulls Castiel into place by the rings in the floor, attaching a D-ring into one before taking up a length of rope and beginning to tie Castiel's ankle to the ring. Once it's tight and in place, he switches over to repeat the procedure on the other ankle, leaving Castiel's legs spread but still allowing him his balance. It also means that any struggling Castiel did would make the rope bite into the skin, leaving him with bruises and marks the next day.

Sam stands, walking back to the bed to pick up the spreader bar, taking another piece of rope to attach to the center of the bar so that he can attach it to another ring in the ceiling. He tugs on it, making certain it's secure before reaching for Castiel's hand to repeat the procedure with his wrists that he had with his ankles.