Fic:Pacta sunt servanda
Title:Pacta sunt servanda
Pairing:Crowley/Samandriel
Rating:M
Wordcount:1125
Spoilers:none
Warnings:none
Summary:Agreements must be kept.
Samandriel sits in his chair, beaten and broken. Crowley had him caught ever since the auction and he wasn’t going to let him out soon. His wrists hurt, causing him pain every time he tries to move as they bleed Grace. His head pounds, a sensation he shouldn’t be experiencing, and he feels dizzy and disorientated. His wings are starting to give too, aching where they meet Alfie’s body.
There’s a sounds outside the room and he realizes it’s a hellhound guarding him. The “fight or flight” respond sets in so fast it makes him shake. He has to go.
His Grace is fragile from the torture and cannot sustain two living beings.It upsets Samandriel that he can’t take Alfie with him, not after he’s promised to be careful and not to hurt him. The human never felt the pain while being tortured, but if
the seraph leaves him now, he’ll agonize until death. Samandriel lowers his head, trying to make a decision. The hellhound outside howls, fills the room with his growl and the decision is made, even if with regret.
He straightens his wings out and tries to brace for the pain the flight will cause. His Grace starts to rise to his eyes and his whole being feels like it’s pulled apart. The hellhound barks one more time and Samandriel gasps, saying goodbye to Alfie.
He’s half-way out the vessel when a strong hand grabs his head and pulls him down. Pain shoots through him and he loses the determination when he hears his own screams. Crowley still holds him down ,muttering some spell in Latin. Exhaustion oozes from his whole being.
- -If you try that again, you’ll be torn apart before you manage to yelp, you understand?
- -Please…Let me go.
- -Oh, no. No,no,no,no. I’m not done with you.
- -I told you everything, I swear.
- -That’s for me to decide.
The demon leans in, blowing air on Samandriel’s skin and the boy can’t refrain from jumping a little. Crowley chuckles at the little yap sound the angel makes ;he’s not a fool. Poor feather-wings is trembling under all that celestial composure. He’d do anything to get away.
- I’ve got an idea, the gravel voice says. I’ll let you go, but with one condition.
- What condition?
- You’ll serve me whenever I call you.
- I-I can’t, it’s against the rules and-
- And what? You’d rather have me torture you? ’Cause I’m fine and dandy with that. After all, it’s not like I can’t improve the shackles.
The angel closes his eyes; this isn’t a battle he could win. The demon’s breath plays with his skin, tempting and playful and he can’t concentrate.
- A deal?
- Yes, just a small deal. No one gets hurt, -Crowley encircles him, stops right in front of him, towering over him and with a smirk upon his face -certainly not you.
- I-I ca-
- Ok, then.
. Terrified sound waves leave Alfie’s vocal cords, tearing the calmness found just a couple of seconds ago.
- Mmmm, feels good, doesn’t it? the demon chuckles.
- Please, I-
- Deal or not?
- ..deal.
Samandriel looks up to him, still cringing from the pain. His eyes are clouded and he can’t even see straight, but chooses to let them stay opened while the deal between them is signed.
The demon’s lips cover his, biting and licking, provoking Samandriel to let him in and he has to comply. It’s demanding and possessive, tongue and teeth clashing and it doesn’t stop. His head yanks backwards, leaving the neck exposed to all the things they both have in mind. This could go on forever.
The next moves are a blur to the angel, but he distinctively feels the restraints coming off , Crowley’s hands on him and the warm buzz is causes him low in his stomach. The scenery changes and they’re in something close to an office, clothes gone. Crowley’s behind him, sucking on the sensible skin of his neck, little bites and licks crowning it.
The King pushes him forward, bending him over the desk and grabs some lube. He doesn’t really need to stretch but he wished he did as Crowley enters him. It’s gentle, like they’re supposed to take their time, with movements close to ones of a lover, an uncertain intimacy found right there.
A hand strokes Samandriel’s chest, sweeps downwards, eliciting expecting moans out of him, but stops right at the navel, then backs up to the nipples, grabbing one and rubbing it harshly. Crowley’s stubble tickles the skin as his tongue darts out, licking at the jaw line and Samandriel has to turn, has to kiss him right now.
It’s funny how the human body works, affecting every occupant of one at certain points.
The angel is starting to ache for release but Crowley seems more interested in satisfying himself right now. The slapping sound of meat fills the room and Samandriel meet every push with one of his own, lost in the sensation he’s trapped in. His breathing is hitched, searching for air as sweat covers his body.
His dick jerks with every slam inside him and he has to take care of that before he loses his sanity on an office desk in the middle of nowhere. He palms it, eager and fast and Crowley hums. It’s laced with disapproval ,cheap and wanton, made to question the angel’s actions like he’s some sort of lunatic.
- Want me to take care of that for you?, his voice chimes in, turning into pleasure and promise in Samandriel’s ears.
- I thought you’ll ever ask.
- Beg.
- What?
- Beg for it.
Thousands of thoughts pass through the celestial’s mind but only the promise rings a bell. He obeys.
- Crowley, please, please, just-just do it, please.
The demon isn’t late to answer, centuries of learning about the perks of intercourse. He takes the cock in his hand and strokes it, two fingers caressing along the shaft, stopping at the tip. He feels the end coming, rising deep from the two of them. Crowley grins against Samandriel’s skin and grabs his hair with the free hand, making the angel look at him as he moans like a desperate whore. They give up any type of control, slamming into each other ad it’s not long before the orgasm hits them. It soars through them, blinding and cripplingly gratifying ,emptying their minds.
They stir away in the after glow a little bit, but it ends soon as Crowley snaps his fingers. The dark suit returns and so does his smirk, the perpetual gesture that turns him into a predator.
- Same time, next Thursday, mate.
- What?
- Well, we have a deal. Pacta sunt servanda.
Samandriel swallows as the demon fixes his tie. Those deal are not as atrocious as Heaven makes them be.