i know my own kind, what goes on in our minds
Title: A question of time
Author: eonism
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just here for the lulz.
Characters/Pairings: Crowley/Castiel (Supernatural)
Word Count: 2,088
Spoilers: General season 6
Warnings: Dubious consent
Author's notes: Takes place shortly after A king with no crown
Summary: “Well, you’ve got your power, sunshine, or at least you will soon.” Heat sighed in the corners of Crowley’s words, his fingers scissoring the angel gradually, torturously. Found the little spot inside of him that made him buck and grunt, and Crowley couldn’t help his smirk. “I’m just making sure you don’t do anything stupid with it.”
“Are we having fun yet, dear?”
There was still blood under Crowley’s fingernails when he returned to the Paris safe-house, skinning out his jacket and loosening the knot of his tie. Werewolves today, it seemed, by the particular smell of entrails still hanging in the threads of his clothes. Clucking his tongue, he looked over the angel sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, the length of chain connected to the wall knotted around both hands. He sighed.
“I told you to be naked when I got home, but I suppose this will just have to do.”
From the floor, Castiel seethed with the crackle of ozone. Even that was an empty gesture, the power sapped from him like a corroded battery, left only with tensile strength. Stripped down to black slacks and bare feet, the iron collar rode high on his neck, attached to the heavy chains that tethered him there. It didn’t keep him from tugging at them for good measure, if only for the hollow groaning sound the wall made when he did.
“Release me,” he snarled, “or I’ll burn you alive.”
“You can’t, and you won’t, so quit struggling,” Crowley dismissed. “I had the chains custom-made, you know. Found a nice binding sigil for capturing prissy little angels, cancels out your mojo and everything. I’ve just been dying to give it a try.”
Castiel tugged once more in a hard yank, and then sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”
Crowley wrinkled his nose, opened his vest. “What, no kiss? No ‘Hello honey, how was your day?’ Just right on into the nagging with you.”
“You kidnapped me, you ass,” Castiel deadpanned. “My lieutenants will come looking for me. I’m committing soldiers today.”
Castiel had been with his disciples. In the makeshift war-room they had made for themselves in the dense green forest of a dead soldier’s Heaven, discussing tactics when he received Crowley’s call. He had to leave them with Rachel and excuse himself with a cover story, about Balthazar and a meeting and needing some privacy. It was getting easier and easier to lie to his own people, with their blank abiding faces and keenness to die if only for a good cause. When he got to the demon’s safe-house Crowley had snapped the collar on him, shackled him to the spot. That was twelve hours ago. Looking back, he should have known Crowley would try something like this. It was only a matter of time.
“And now you’re not.” Crowley turned, discarding the vest and tie in the corner armchair. “See how that works out?”
The angel got to his feet. “When I get out of these chains, I will tear you apart.”
“You just keep saying that, Cas,” Crowley said, taking a seat on the other side of the bed, “like you expect it to come true.”
After a moment, Castiel squared up. Took a deep breath and collected himself. “What do you want?”
“You haven’t been returning my calls.” Crowley leaned back on an elbow, looking Castiel over appraisingly. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I’m at war, Crowley. I don’t have to remind you of the stakes,” Castiel said.
“You don’t think I’m sympathetic to the cause? Cas, you wound me.”
“I sincerely doubt that.”
Crowley shrugged at that, picked the red rings from underneath his nails. “I thought you’d give me the speech again. That’s why I brought you down here, to let you cool your heels a bit. In case I needed to remind you of the terms of our agreement.”
“I don’t need to be reminded of anything. The deal was for Purgatory, nothing more.”
“I thought you’d say that, too.”
Crowley patted the spot beside him on the mattress. Castiel didn’t budge. Crowley eventually sighed.
“Don’t act all high-and-mighty, sunshine. It’s a little late for that.” He gathered up the slack in the chain and tugged, dragging Castiel forward into the bed. “Besides, I just want to talk.”
Castiel caught himself on open palms. “I have nothing to say.”
“Okay, so just listen.” Crowley jerked Castiel close, mouths almost touching. “I was serious before, you know. About my offer.”
“What offer?”
“Joining forces full-time, the new Devil and the new God.” Crowley flicked his eyes down to Castiel’s mouth and back up again. “This would be so much easier to do if you were naked, by the way.”
Anger coiled in Castiel’s gut but he swallowed it with a sigh, turned to take off his slacks, slipping them off and letting them drop to the floor. He ignored Crowley’s eyes on him like he ignored the smirk, Crowley’s hand roaming from his shoulder, down his spine and over the curve of his ass, fingers skimming over his entrance. The touch startled him but he didn’t let it show, arms straight, legs locked to hold the position Crowley wanted him in. It was just easier that way, to give the demon what he wanted, to shut him up and get it over with.
“I didn’t realize you were offering anything,” Castiel said, just to get a word in edgewise. “I remember you talking a lot.”
“Cute. See, this arrangement works out well for now: Me keeping demons out of your hair so you can wage your war, you getting the souls you need to win. But I’ve been thinking, we can do so much better than this.” Crowley rubbed a thumb over Castiel’s hole, working it open until the angel grunted against his better judgment. “Whatever you may think of me, Castiel, I like you. I may not respect you, but I do like you.”
“I’m flattered,” Castiel deadpanned. For it, Crowley smiled.
“Thought you would be. It’s not just your body I’m after, although - as bodies go - I am rather fond of fucking it. But unlike the rest of your fine feathered friends, you have perspective. You were human once, if only for just a bit. You get how their simple little brains work, and that’s an insight our predecessors lacked. No more of this looking down from on high crap. Let’s get together on this, and Purgatory could be the start of a very fruitful business venture.”
Castiel closed his eyes, turned his head to the wall. “I won’t align the armies of Heaven with you. God would never have allowed this to go this far just to let that happen.”
“And whose god would that be, Cas? Because your god’s been awfully quiet on the subject.” Pushing past the clench of muscle, Crowley worked a dry digit inside Castiel, enjoying the way he winced and groaned. “You already threw out the rulebook. I say we adapt.”
The stretch and burn made Castiel’s voice raw, balls in his gut. Face hot with shame. “And do what, exactly?”
“Whatever we want,” Crowley chirped. “Think about it, sweetheart: We go halfsies on the souls, you wipe out Raphael and I develop Purgatory into a machine to power both our armies. Then we hunt down every old god and upstart still hiding out there in the dark and keep all the profits for ourselves. Whether you go up, down, or sideways, all souls are just sold back to the grid as fuel.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Is it? Everybody wins and the whole planet’s ours. No more wars, no more fighting, no more apocalypse. Just you and me, and six-and-a-half billion tasty little souls, ripe for the plucking.”
Castiel swallowed, his mouth dry, and closed his eyes tighter. “I would never stoop so low.”
“Yes, but you’ve already made your bed, haven’t you? Literally and figuratively.” The finger twisted and curled, followed by another, spreading Castiel open wide. “Hell, after a few years we could even expand. I own an engineer at NASA with a contract up in three years. What say you and I pop off to see if there’s any action on other planets? Put the First Church of Castiel across from the First Church of Satan - see how many we can rope in?”
“I don’t want power,” Castiel gritted out, “just freedom.”
“Well, you’ve got your power, sunshine, or at least you will soon.” Heat sighed in the corners of Crowley’s words, his fingers scissoring the angel gradually, torturously. Found the little spot inside of him that made him buck and grunt, and Crowley couldn’t help his smirk. “I’m just making sure you don’t do anything stupid with it.”
It was enough to make Castiel’s arms shake beneath his weight, back flexed and dick getting hard. Even for it, he wouldn’t break. Couldn’t let himself break, not for the demon. “Are you doubting me?”
“I don’t doubt that you want Raphael’s head on a stick. I’m just worried what you’ll do once you have it.”
“That’s my concern,” Castiel said, “not yours. So just do your job and find Purgatory.”
“Are you giving me orders?”Crowley asked.
“Are you done talking, or is there anything else?”
At that, Crowley pushed in a third digit. “Ah, that’s so adorable. I love it when you act like you don’t already know the answer.”
When Crowley removed his fingers, Castiel’s insides burned. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself, hate making a fire in his gut, humiliation making it hotter. After a moment he moved to sit between Crowley’s thighs, opening his trousers and taking him out, dick already hot and fat in his hand. He lowered his head to take the demon into his mouth, quiet, dutiful, eager to get it over with. Licking and nipping over the length of the shaft, he had barely swallowed it down before Crowley tutted him gently.
“Nice try,” he said. “Love the foreplay, but you don’t get off that easy.”
The urge to smite tingled in his fingertips but Castiel said nothing of it. Just let Crowley’s cock slip from his mouth and moved up to his knees, taking up perch in the demon’s lap to straddle him. Crowley held him by the hips and with a full thrust pushed into Castiel, with only saliva to soften the burn. Arching his back Castiel straightened and stiffened, groaning at the friction, the tension and the ache, before he could stop himself.
“What, no romance?” Crowley asked. “Not even a kiss?”
Castiel narrowed his eyes but did as he was told. Not so long ago he would have laid waste to the safe-house without a second thought, burned the filth right out of the demon’s vessel. Torched his bones, scattered the dust across entire solar systems until there was nothing left but atoms, just to make a point. Instead he leaned forward to let Crowley inside his mouth with a flick of his tongue, tasting the decay there. He opened to it with a gasp when Crowley rocked up from beneath him, beginning a teasing rhythm, slow and measured and sure. Filling him up with every thrust, leaving him empty on the withdrawal, urging him to follow until he was panting, grasping at the sheets for purchase.
“You will say yes, you know,” Crowley said into Castiel’s mouth. “It’s just a question of time. This is survival of the fittest, darling, and I intend to survive as comfortably as possible.”
Castiel took a breath and held it. “If I let you.”
Crowley laughed at that, low and purring. “You make it sound like there’s a better deal on the table.”
Another thrust, this one harder and faster, pulled a grunt out of Castiel. He swallowed, steadied himself, tried not to let him composure slip. Tried not to like it, even just a little bit, the fleeting sensation of pleasure in the friction inside of him making it hard to focus. “I could take the souls for myself.”
Crowley gripped his hips tight enough to bruise, worked to find the spot that made the angel moan. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you try to double-cross me, I’ll skin you myself.”
Giving Castiel another kiss, the angel raked his teeth across Crowley’s bottom lip.
“I would love to see you try,” Castiel warned. “It would give me all the more reason to destroy you.”
Crowley’s grin looked almost sinful under the circumstances. The angle of his hips certainly was, arching up until Castiel rose with him, pulling out just to watch him falter. “I guess we’ll find out who the quicker draw is then, won’t we?”
Letting Crowley fuck him until he came in a hot stripe across the demon’s chest, Castiel found himself looking forward to it.
Author: eonism
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm just here for the lulz.
Characters/Pairings: Crowley/Castiel (Supernatural)
Word Count: 2,088
Spoilers: General season 6
Warnings: Dubious consent
Author's notes: Takes place shortly after A king with no crown
Summary: “Well, you’ve got your power, sunshine, or at least you will soon.” Heat sighed in the corners of Crowley’s words, his fingers scissoring the angel gradually, torturously. Found the little spot inside of him that made him buck and grunt, and Crowley couldn’t help his smirk. “I’m just making sure you don’t do anything stupid with it.”
“Are we having fun yet, dear?”
There was still blood under Crowley’s fingernails when he returned to the Paris safe-house, skinning out his jacket and loosening the knot of his tie. Werewolves today, it seemed, by the particular smell of entrails still hanging in the threads of his clothes. Clucking his tongue, he looked over the angel sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed, the length of chain connected to the wall knotted around both hands. He sighed.
“I told you to be naked when I got home, but I suppose this will just have to do.”
From the floor, Castiel seethed with the crackle of ozone. Even that was an empty gesture, the power sapped from him like a corroded battery, left only with tensile strength. Stripped down to black slacks and bare feet, the iron collar rode high on his neck, attached to the heavy chains that tethered him there. It didn’t keep him from tugging at them for good measure, if only for the hollow groaning sound the wall made when he did.
“Release me,” he snarled, “or I’ll burn you alive.”
“You can’t, and you won’t, so quit struggling,” Crowley dismissed. “I had the chains custom-made, you know. Found a nice binding sigil for capturing prissy little angels, cancels out your mojo and everything. I’ve just been dying to give it a try.”
Castiel tugged once more in a hard yank, and then sighed. “I don’t have time for this.”
Crowley wrinkled his nose, opened his vest. “What, no kiss? No ‘Hello honey, how was your day?’ Just right on into the nagging with you.”
“You kidnapped me, you ass,” Castiel deadpanned. “My lieutenants will come looking for me. I’m committing soldiers today.”
Castiel had been with his disciples. In the makeshift war-room they had made for themselves in the dense green forest of a dead soldier’s Heaven, discussing tactics when he received Crowley’s call. He had to leave them with Rachel and excuse himself with a cover story, about Balthazar and a meeting and needing some privacy. It was getting easier and easier to lie to his own people, with their blank abiding faces and keenness to die if only for a good cause. When he got to the demon’s safe-house Crowley had snapped the collar on him, shackled him to the spot. That was twelve hours ago. Looking back, he should have known Crowley would try something like this. It was only a matter of time.
“And now you’re not.” Crowley turned, discarding the vest and tie in the corner armchair. “See how that works out?”
The angel got to his feet. “When I get out of these chains, I will tear you apart.”
“You just keep saying that, Cas,” Crowley said, taking a seat on the other side of the bed, “like you expect it to come true.”
After a moment, Castiel squared up. Took a deep breath and collected himself. “What do you want?”
“You haven’t been returning my calls.” Crowley leaned back on an elbow, looking Castiel over appraisingly. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”
“I’m at war, Crowley. I don’t have to remind you of the stakes,” Castiel said.
“You don’t think I’m sympathetic to the cause? Cas, you wound me.”
“I sincerely doubt that.”
Crowley shrugged at that, picked the red rings from underneath his nails. “I thought you’d give me the speech again. That’s why I brought you down here, to let you cool your heels a bit. In case I needed to remind you of the terms of our agreement.”
“I don’t need to be reminded of anything. The deal was for Purgatory, nothing more.”
“I thought you’d say that, too.”
Crowley patted the spot beside him on the mattress. Castiel didn’t budge. Crowley eventually sighed.
“Don’t act all high-and-mighty, sunshine. It’s a little late for that.” He gathered up the slack in the chain and tugged, dragging Castiel forward into the bed. “Besides, I just want to talk.”
Castiel caught himself on open palms. “I have nothing to say.”
“Okay, so just listen.” Crowley jerked Castiel close, mouths almost touching. “I was serious before, you know. About my offer.”
“What offer?”
“Joining forces full-time, the new Devil and the new God.” Crowley flicked his eyes down to Castiel’s mouth and back up again. “This would be so much easier to do if you were naked, by the way.”
Anger coiled in Castiel’s gut but he swallowed it with a sigh, turned to take off his slacks, slipping them off and letting them drop to the floor. He ignored Crowley’s eyes on him like he ignored the smirk, Crowley’s hand roaming from his shoulder, down his spine and over the curve of his ass, fingers skimming over his entrance. The touch startled him but he didn’t let it show, arms straight, legs locked to hold the position Crowley wanted him in. It was just easier that way, to give the demon what he wanted, to shut him up and get it over with.
“I didn’t realize you were offering anything,” Castiel said, just to get a word in edgewise. “I remember you talking a lot.”
“Cute. See, this arrangement works out well for now: Me keeping demons out of your hair so you can wage your war, you getting the souls you need to win. But I’ve been thinking, we can do so much better than this.” Crowley rubbed a thumb over Castiel’s hole, working it open until the angel grunted against his better judgment. “Whatever you may think of me, Castiel, I like you. I may not respect you, but I do like you.”
“I’m flattered,” Castiel deadpanned. For it, Crowley smiled.
“Thought you would be. It’s not just your body I’m after, although - as bodies go - I am rather fond of fucking it. But unlike the rest of your fine feathered friends, you have perspective. You were human once, if only for just a bit. You get how their simple little brains work, and that’s an insight our predecessors lacked. No more of this looking down from on high crap. Let’s get together on this, and Purgatory could be the start of a very fruitful business venture.”
Castiel closed his eyes, turned his head to the wall. “I won’t align the armies of Heaven with you. God would never have allowed this to go this far just to let that happen.”
“And whose god would that be, Cas? Because your god’s been awfully quiet on the subject.” Pushing past the clench of muscle, Crowley worked a dry digit inside Castiel, enjoying the way he winced and groaned. “You already threw out the rulebook. I say we adapt.”
The stretch and burn made Castiel’s voice raw, balls in his gut. Face hot with shame. “And do what, exactly?”
“Whatever we want,” Crowley chirped. “Think about it, sweetheart: We go halfsies on the souls, you wipe out Raphael and I develop Purgatory into a machine to power both our armies. Then we hunt down every old god and upstart still hiding out there in the dark and keep all the profits for ourselves. Whether you go up, down, or sideways, all souls are just sold back to the grid as fuel.”
“Ridiculous.”
“Is it? Everybody wins and the whole planet’s ours. No more wars, no more fighting, no more apocalypse. Just you and me, and six-and-a-half billion tasty little souls, ripe for the plucking.”
Castiel swallowed, his mouth dry, and closed his eyes tighter. “I would never stoop so low.”
“Yes, but you’ve already made your bed, haven’t you? Literally and figuratively.” The finger twisted and curled, followed by another, spreading Castiel open wide. “Hell, after a few years we could even expand. I own an engineer at NASA with a contract up in three years. What say you and I pop off to see if there’s any action on other planets? Put the First Church of Castiel across from the First Church of Satan - see how many we can rope in?”
“I don’t want power,” Castiel gritted out, “just freedom.”
“Well, you’ve got your power, sunshine, or at least you will soon.” Heat sighed in the corners of Crowley’s words, his fingers scissoring the angel gradually, torturously. Found the little spot inside of him that made him buck and grunt, and Crowley couldn’t help his smirk. “I’m just making sure you don’t do anything stupid with it.”
It was enough to make Castiel’s arms shake beneath his weight, back flexed and dick getting hard. Even for it, he wouldn’t break. Couldn’t let himself break, not for the demon. “Are you doubting me?”
“I don’t doubt that you want Raphael’s head on a stick. I’m just worried what you’ll do once you have it.”
“That’s my concern,” Castiel said, “not yours. So just do your job and find Purgatory.”
“Are you giving me orders?”Crowley asked.
“Are you done talking, or is there anything else?”
At that, Crowley pushed in a third digit. “Ah, that’s so adorable. I love it when you act like you don’t already know the answer.”
When Crowley removed his fingers, Castiel’s insides burned. He took a deep breath and tried to compose himself, hate making a fire in his gut, humiliation making it hotter. After a moment he moved to sit between Crowley’s thighs, opening his trousers and taking him out, dick already hot and fat in his hand. He lowered his head to take the demon into his mouth, quiet, dutiful, eager to get it over with. Licking and nipping over the length of the shaft, he had barely swallowed it down before Crowley tutted him gently.
“Nice try,” he said. “Love the foreplay, but you don’t get off that easy.”
The urge to smite tingled in his fingertips but Castiel said nothing of it. Just let Crowley’s cock slip from his mouth and moved up to his knees, taking up perch in the demon’s lap to straddle him. Crowley held him by the hips and with a full thrust pushed into Castiel, with only saliva to soften the burn. Arching his back Castiel straightened and stiffened, groaning at the friction, the tension and the ache, before he could stop himself.
“What, no romance?” Crowley asked. “Not even a kiss?”
Castiel narrowed his eyes but did as he was told. Not so long ago he would have laid waste to the safe-house without a second thought, burned the filth right out of the demon’s vessel. Torched his bones, scattered the dust across entire solar systems until there was nothing left but atoms, just to make a point. Instead he leaned forward to let Crowley inside his mouth with a flick of his tongue, tasting the decay there. He opened to it with a gasp when Crowley rocked up from beneath him, beginning a teasing rhythm, slow and measured and sure. Filling him up with every thrust, leaving him empty on the withdrawal, urging him to follow until he was panting, grasping at the sheets for purchase.
“You will say yes, you know,” Crowley said into Castiel’s mouth. “It’s just a question of time. This is survival of the fittest, darling, and I intend to survive as comfortably as possible.”
Castiel took a breath and held it. “If I let you.”
Crowley laughed at that, low and purring. “You make it sound like there’s a better deal on the table.”
Another thrust, this one harder and faster, pulled a grunt out of Castiel. He swallowed, steadied himself, tried not to let him composure slip. Tried not to like it, even just a little bit, the fleeting sensation of pleasure in the friction inside of him making it hard to focus. “I could take the souls for myself.”
Crowley gripped his hips tight enough to bruise, worked to find the spot that made the angel moan. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Why not?”
“Because if you try to double-cross me, I’ll skin you myself.”
Giving Castiel another kiss, the angel raked his teeth across Crowley’s bottom lip.
“I would love to see you try,” Castiel warned. “It would give me all the more reason to destroy you.”
Crowley’s grin looked almost sinful under the circumstances. The angle of his hips certainly was, arching up until Castiel rose with him, pulling out just to watch him falter. “I guess we’ll find out who the quicker draw is then, won’t we?”
Letting Crowley fuck him until he came in a hot stripe across the demon’s chest, Castiel found himself looking forward to it.