holyovercoat | my boy builds coffins

Entry tags:

rp: crowley [goesdown]

my boy builds coffins

[from here]

When Castiel looks back, he'll realize this is a worse idea than even agreeing to work with Crowley in the first place. Right now, it's... exciting. Either he feels powerful or he simply feels good in a way he hadn't quite expected, but maybe he should have since humans are so crazy about the act. On some level, he knows it's wrong, or he feels dirty, and whether it's because it's Crowley or sex in general, he couldn't say. He doesn't want to say. He enjoys it, and what's wrong with that? If he keeps his head clear, if he keeps it as something they do casually, what harm could this do?

While he's finishing up with Sam and Dean, he finds his anticipation mounting, and he's already... eager to see Crowley again. No, not Crowley specifically. This isn't about him. This is about Castiel taking something that's being offered because he wants it. He leaves Dean and Sam, and maybe it's abrupt, but he just wants to get away from them, somewhere far away and secure, before he calls Crowley.

"Hello." Once he's on the phone with him, he's not really sure what to say. "Are you busy?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Castiel's pace is just this side of too slow for Crowley's taste, but then he rather likes the slow build that brings and the sense of denial that comes along with it. If Castiel doesn't pick up his pace eventually, Crowley will say something, but for now he's content to lies with Castiel and let the slow sensation roll over him.

Crowley is a demon, yes, and he has no problem using and abusing all sorts of people, but his fondness for Castiel does have some genuine roots to it. He finds the angel fascinating and downright beautiful and if he's honest, which he'll only ever be with himself, he enjoys Castiel's company in some strange way that he can't explain. He can't exactly stand his ridiculous friendship with the Winchesters, but no one is perfect and Castiel just left them to come here with Crowley. That has to count for something.

Castiel's kisses only drive all of this home. The angel is so genuine in everything, hence he must like whatever this is with Crowley in some way. His hand slides into Castiel's hair, not to tug at it quite yet, but just to scrape his nails gently against Castiel's scalp as he exhales a shaky breath.

"I told you you could find something better to do with your mouth." The words are half-murmured and lack most of their usual bite.

Castiel isn't sure how to admit to himself that he is developing some fondness for Crowley. The torture is off-putting, but necessary, and his own hands aren't all that clean anyway. He does enjoy conversation with him; there are references and jokes that go over his head in a frustratingly/charmingly familiar way. And now, with Crowley purring against his skin and being gentle with him, that fondness is quickly increasing. It makes Castiel feel... appreciated. Not that he wants to admit it. He isn't even coming close to admitting it. He's indulging himself in sin and apparently tenderness with a demon, and that's it.

He smiles slightly and follows up Crowley's comment with a tentative bite, tentative only because he's new to biting people, not because he's uncertain of whether Crowley will enjoy it.

"I'm glad you approve." He sucks lightly at the skin, less interested in leaving a mark as he is recreating the feeling, which he had enjoyed.

As for his hand, he's far less confident about what he should do here, and he wishes he could ask, but he's afraid that might make him seem less appealing to Crowley, and it's very important that that doesn't happen.

Everything Castiel is doing screams rough around the edges, but it's no surprise and Crowley really doesn't mind it at all. Castiel is breaking taboos for the first time and Crowley likes to think that he had more than a little influence in that. He feels pride at the thought and he knows that Castiel can only get better with some help from his friendly neighborhood King of Hell.

His breath hitches when he feels Castiel's teeth sink in and oh, Castiel had read that one right. His cock twitches in Castiel's hand and his mouth falls open. It's not enough with Castiel's slow pace and he slips his hand down to wrap around Castiel's hand on himself, showing him a slightly faster pace. "Like this, darling."

This time he does tug lightly at Castiel's hair and he dips his own head to press their lips together. The kiss is slow and messy, just like Castiel's first attempt at a handjob, but this is by design. Crowley doesn't have many opportunities for these sort of kisses and he has to admit that they're nice in their way.

Usually Crowley's pet names seem either meaningless or mean-spirited, but not that one, not right now. Seeing Crowley's reaction to the bite is inspiring; he wants to see more of that, he wants to see if he can make Crowley feel as good as he did for Castiel. He doubts that's possible. Yet. He's going to try his hardest and learn as much as he can now. Obtuse he may be about some things, but he's a soldier, and he can learn the important things quickly.

He hums into the kiss and returns it eagerly, grateful both for it and for the assistance, not to mention the highly erotic experience of being guided on Crowley's cock by Crowley's own hand. He follows the instruction well, increasing his pace, and he makes a mental note to keep things increasing steadily at this pace. His goal is to send Crowley over the edge without needing any more help now. The idea is something he thinks he could be strangely proud of, and maybe Crowley would be proud of him too. He doesn't think that's necessary, but it's... nice.

He makes an executive decision and drags his fingernails down Crowley's back, pressing as hard as he thinks Crowley might enjoy.

Crowley moans softly. Not only is Castiel a fast learner, but he's very intuitive about these things, the naught angel. Crowley wonders how much time he's spent thinking about doing this, not with Crowley necessarily, but at all. He doesn't exactly have a harem of angels to ask, but he'd venture to say most angels don't have much drive or interest.

Pace secured, his hand finds its way to Castiel's hip, where his grips tightly. Part of him would love to just keep the angel here forever and he very firmly tells himself that it's just the lure of sex and degradation. It could be any angel in his bed. This is just the one it happens to be.

He can feel his own orgasm building, not nearly as fast as Castiel's, but faster than usual. There's just something to this that's more erotic than just a little extra pain and he's not particularly embarrassed, if only because he knows Castiel has nothing to compare Crowley's timing to but himself.

Dean places so much importance on sex, or he has, and it seems to be a fundamental aspect of humanity and, by extension, free will. Castiel's looking to flesh out his free will, to take what angels have so often refused to take or simply been uninterested in. He's seen the extent to which angels can resist the idea of being their own... their own being, and it seems to him that sex, at its core, celebrates an individual's right to pleasure for the sake of it. So yes, he has thought about it, in an effort to drum up his own interest. He even kissed Meg, and that had been enjoyable, and then he kissed Crowley, and... kept kissing him. He understands the appeal now.

He thinks he's still doing a good job, judging by Crowley's moan. He only has one real idea of what Crowley might like -- pain -- and so he finds his neck again and bites, harder this time, moderately more sure of himself than he was before. He quickens the pace on Crowley's cock, and he grips his hip too, fingers pressing into him.

A sharp intake of breath and Crowley is too distracted by that bite to even choke out a comment about what a naughty thing Castiel is, but he thinks it. He tightens his fist in Castiel's hair, tugging at the roots. Even if Castiel doesn't enjoy pain the way he does, who doesn't like a little hair pulling and scratching? He imagines Castiel will figure out what he likes as they go and won't that be fun?

He breaths out, shaky and uncharacteristically desperate as his hips thrust into Castiel's hand. He can feel that he's on the cusp. He just needs a little bit more.

He thrusts his hips once, twice and then he comes with a low groan.

As Crowley's grip tightens in his hair, Castiel surprises himself with a moan, clutching tighter to Crowley. He's also interested in how it feels for Crowley to thrust against him, which is strangely erotic and -- he's sure if he thought about it enough -- arousing. He likes the desperation in Crowley's movements, and he strokes his fingers up Crowley's spine after he comes, taking a moment to memorize this. He'll want to think about it later.

Now he's not quite sure what they're supposed to do, so he stalls and kisses Crowley's jaw, gentler now, still mimicking what Crowley had done to him earlier. He'd liked the gentleness after his orgasm.

One thing he's very certain of is that he wants to do this again.

"This is definitely more enjoyable without our clothes."

Crowley chuckles and closes his eyes, pressing closer against Castiel. He can't even remember the last time he'd done something this simple and it's almost strange to be reminded that simple things can actually be quite nice.

"All of my ideas are excellent and you should always listen to me." There's a softness to his voice that he'd like to explain away with a post-orgasm haze, but he rarely sounds like this after sex.

Everything that Castiel is doing feels wonderful and he wonders how hard it will be to get Castiel to stay for a while. Torture is fun, but lying in bed with a partner he knows isn't thinking about stabbing him quite literally in the back is a rarity.

He shifts until he can kiss Castiel, his earlier desperation replaced with what one might mistake for mild affection.

He huffs, and it's close to a laugh.

"I'm not that naive."

He doesn't think he's that naive at all anymore, not in many areas; in sex, yes, but he's working on that and that's what this is all about anyway. It has nothing to do with fondness or a particular attraction to Crowley; he'd simply been convenient, and Castiel can't imagine he would have many hangups about engaging in sexual relations. He's a demon, the king of Hell, and if anyone can have sex for the sake of indulgence, Castiel would imagine he can. That's why he's here and not in another brothel with another Chastity.

This has nothing to do with affection, no fondness; how can he be fond of an abomination like Crowley? He can lie with him, but Castiel will keep his hands clean. That thought made so much sense before, but now, kissing Crowley back, it leaves him unsettled. Guilty, even.

"Is this the end of the..." Sex act? Liason? "Ritual?" In other words, can he go before he spends too long lying in Crowley's arms and thinking about... well, lying?

Crowley knows that Castiel isn't all that naive. He teases, yes, but he could easily find other things to tease Castiel about, too. No, Castiel is clever. Crowley wouldn't work with him if he wasn't.

"It can be." Crowley settles his head on the pillow, lying still half on top of Castiel. "I wasn't planning to kick you out, though. Sometimes people linger. You'll learn how to tell when you're wanted."

It's the closest Crowley is going to get to telling Castiel that he is wanted. He already wants to kiss Castiel again. He bends his head just enough to kiss his shoulder instead. It's a stupid indulgence and he's letting himself get a little too into this, but he's allowed indulgences here and there and it's unlikely that Castiel will really know enough to call him on it.

The hand that had tugged at Castiel's hair now sifts through it lazily. He doesn't let himself really hope that Castiel will stay, but he can admit to himself that he'd like it.

Together, he and Castiel might just be unstoppable if his plan works. Heaven and Hell and Earth can be theirs.

The more he indulges in the affection, the more Castiel wants to stay. He's watching Crowley as he comes close to telling Castiel he's wanted here, and he does take it to mean that. Crowley can't be that serious; this must be part of some coercion tactic to make sure Castiel remains faithful to their deal. He won't, of course. Crowley's a fool for thinking so, but how many people has Crowley cheated out of their souls, and how many deals has he slid out of? Who owes him honesty?

Castiel's not naive about many things, but he's not aware either of how powerfully he can talk himself in circles around an issue. He'd been feeling guilty, and he still is, but he's talked himself out of it long enough to kiss Crowley, soft and sensual, and a little sloppy, but he's technically free-styling this, no longer trying to reproduce something he's seen.

"I should return to Heaven. They'll need the direction." His eyes flick over Crowley's face, and whatever fondness there, he chooses to write off as contentment. Crowley's incapable of connections like that, isn't he? He isn't like Dean or Sam.

"I would like to come back. Here." He means the bedroom and Crowley's embrace, though he's not good at explaining that.

Oh, that kiss. Crowley's embarrassed to say that he melts just a little bit. It's been a long time since anyone's kissed him like that. Tonight has been a return to many things he hasn't felt in a while, some of them not since he was human.

He sighs when Castiel says he should go. He's probably right and Crowley is well aware that Castiel is ever the diligent little soldier. The other angels are probably screwed without him. Castiel's the only one Crowley thinks he'll ever be able to stand.

"Just call ahead. Wouldn't want you catching me in a compromising position." He's mostly teasing. Mostly. He actually doesn't think Castiel would want to catch him with another person any more than he seems to enjoy watching Crowley torture, though he's trying to desensitize him to that, at least. The sex he can let go, though. Truthfully, if Castiel called, he'd likely kick someone out of bed for him. This has been more fun than he's had in ages.

"Right."

He needs to leave, but it's hard to get out of bed, where it's comfortable and he's maybe already thinking about returning. But he can't get attached. He's better than this.

He gets out of bed and brings his clothes to him, redressing instantly. The undressing process had been more rewarding the slow way, but he's in a hurry now. Turning around, he nods at Crowley.

"Goodbye." With a flutter of wings, he's gone.

"Yeah, bye." Crowley rolls onto his back and regards the empty room. He's playing with fire and he knows it, but that doesn't entirely chase away the disappointment when Castiel leaves.

The bed feels suddenly cold and he pushes himself up to get dressed. If he can't have post-sex warmth, he'll warm himself with some monster's blood.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

my boy builds coffins

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject