"Call of Duty" Sam/Cas/Ezekiel SeductionthursdaysistersOctober 14 2013, 02:13:58 UTC
Is it okay if it's not dubcon? I wanted something more romantic...
==== Ezekial watched behind Sam's eyes, a ribbon of sweat running down his cheek as Castiel circled the demon.
It laughed at the bloody syringe. A thirteenth century priest corrupted by power during the Spanish Inquisition, and later by Hell, it took less than an hour for him rub out a sigil on his left shackle and get a hand around Castiel's wrist.
"I remember you. During the plague years" it said, bitterness creeping in, "You never answered me then."
Castiel pulled away, but the demon had an iron grip, and soon the other hand wrenched free.
"Once Abaddon gets us into Heaven," it hissed, Castiel's face reflected in his black eyes, "You'll be lighting a candle for me."
The chair clattered to the floor. Ezekial moved to intervene, but Cas shot him a look. Before the demon could get in a punch, Cas had turned him a hundred and eighty degrees, and the room shuddered as the two men fell to the floor with Cas underneath, one arm around the demon's throat.
"Castiel!" cried Ezekial, pushing Sam aside.
It was an unfair fight. Cas didn't have a fraction of the demon's strength, but he kept on, boots scoring black hatchmarks on the concrete as he struggled to stay in place. He might have gone on longer until the demon bit his arm, and swallowing the pain Cas lifted them both off the floor with his hips and drove the syringe home.
"Are you alright?" Cas asked, when the demon stopped shuddering.
"I prayed to you, every night. You never came," it said, quietly, his tears soft and slow, "And they all died."
Cas cradled him, sobs muffled in his filthy flannel shirt, and whispered something Ezekial could not make out. When it fell asleep, Ezekial shut the door and studied Cas in the hallway. "That arm doesn't look good."
Cas rolled back his sleeve and flinched. Ezekial stepped forward. "Let me."
With a touch, the flesh sealed back in place, but Ezekial's hand lingered. "You shouldn't have to do this work," he said, "It's degrading."
"Isn't that an angel's job?" asked Castiel, a hard glitter in his eyes, "To cherish men?"
"Please," he begged, falling to one knee, "Come away from this place. We'll find a way home..."
Castiel looked away. "There's nothing for me there."
"...nothing?"
Castiel remained perfectly still, and Ezekial went on. "I don't care about your sins, your pride, your fear. I thought I was happy merely to serve in Heaven, but when my captain left, the rare jewel of contentment I'd found with my Brothers," he said, looking into Castiel's hand, "Turned out to be nothing but glue and sand."
"...you've always known this?"
"Always," he said, his cheeks flushing, "The years I've wasted, waiting for your return..."
Castiel knelt over Ezekial, one hand on his burning up-turned face, and repeated what he'd told the demon. "I'm here now."
In his head, Sam watched from his beat-up cabin sofa, chomping poporn as the two men drew together for a kiss. A great yellow dog drooled in his lap, and whined when the TV faded to black.
"Sorry pooch," said Sam, scratching its' ears, "Guess we don't get that channel."
Re: "Call of Duty" Sam/Cas/Ezekiel SeductioncounteragentOctober 14 2013, 12:34:17 UTC
I really love this! Castiel's struggle felt especially real, and I love the idea of Sam jus' chilling with the dog--that was not a direction I would have taken the non-con possession-sex-prompt, but I find it plausible now.
====
Ezekial watched behind Sam's eyes, a ribbon of sweat running down his cheek as Castiel circled the demon.
It laughed at the bloody syringe. A thirteenth century priest corrupted by power during the Spanish Inquisition, and later by Hell, it took less than an hour for him rub out a sigil on his left shackle and get a hand around Castiel's wrist.
"I remember you. During the plague years" it said, bitterness creeping in, "You never answered me then."
Castiel pulled away, but the demon had an iron grip, and soon the other hand wrenched free.
"Once Abaddon gets us into Heaven," it hissed, Castiel's face reflected in his black eyes, "You'll be lighting a candle for me."
The chair clattered to the floor. Ezekial moved to intervene, but Cas shot him a look. Before the demon could get in a punch, Cas had turned him a hundred and eighty degrees, and the room shuddered as the two men fell to the floor with Cas underneath, one arm around the demon's throat.
"Castiel!" cried Ezekial, pushing Sam aside.
It was an unfair fight. Cas didn't have a fraction of the demon's strength, but he kept on, boots scoring black hatchmarks on the concrete as he struggled to stay in place. He might have gone on longer until the demon bit his arm, and swallowing the pain Cas lifted them both off the floor with his hips and drove the syringe home.
"Are you alright?" Cas asked, when the demon stopped shuddering.
"I prayed to you, every night. You never came," it said, quietly, his tears soft and slow, "And they all died."
Cas cradled him, sobs muffled in his filthy flannel shirt, and whispered something Ezekial could not make out. When it fell asleep, Ezekial shut the door and studied Cas in the hallway. "That arm doesn't look good."
Cas rolled back his sleeve and flinched. Ezekial stepped forward. "Let me."
With a touch, the flesh sealed back in place, but Ezekial's hand lingered. "You shouldn't have to do this work," he said, "It's degrading."
"Isn't that an angel's job?" asked Castiel, a hard glitter in his eyes, "To cherish men?"
"Please," he begged, falling to one knee, "Come away from this place. We'll find a way home..."
Castiel looked away. "There's nothing for me there."
"...nothing?"
Castiel remained perfectly still, and Ezekial went on. "I don't care about your sins, your pride, your fear. I thought I was happy merely to serve in Heaven, but when my captain left, the rare jewel of contentment I'd found with my Brothers," he said, looking into Castiel's hand, "Turned out to be nothing but glue and sand."
"...you've always known this?"
"Always," he said, his cheeks flushing, "The years I've wasted, waiting for your return..."
Castiel knelt over Ezekial, one hand on his burning up-turned face, and repeated what he'd told the demon. "I'm here now."
In his head, Sam watched from his beat-up cabin sofa, chomping poporn as the two men drew together for a kiss. A great yellow dog drooled in his lap, and whined when the TV faded to black.
"Sorry pooch," said Sam, scratching its' ears, "Guess we don't get that channel."
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