Revolt Chapter 7: Don't Try To Fight It, Don't Tell Me You Can't See
Title: Revolt
Author: safiyabat
Artist: stormbrite
Characters & Pairing(s): Castiel/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Meg
Rating: M
Word Count: 39,134 / 4,772 (chapter)
Warnings: Past non-con (not described, but it exists.) Violence. Consent issues involving possession. This chapter contains sexually explicit material.
Summary: Trick(ster)s and Treats.
Castiel refused to leave Sam alone that night, not because he believed he was untrustworthy, but because he feared for his mental state. He gave Dean and Meg the option of staying with the young man themselves if they didn’t trust Castiel with his virtue, but he absolutely did not feel confident in Sam’s stability right now.
This, of course, prompted Balthazar to press his hands to his chest in mock affront. “Are you suggesting that you don’t trust me with his virtue, Cassie?”
“Absolutely.” Castiel kept a straight face when he replied. “Plus, you’ll try to make him wear tights, and I don’t think he can handle that right now.”
Sam made a face. “Right here, guys. And my mental state absolutely cannot handle tights.”
“Those of us who appreciate a finely shaped set of legs can’t handle you in tights,” Balthazar shot back with a wink, and Castiel felt better. “I mean really, Sam. The kilt is bad enough, and all we can see is those magnificent calves.”
Dean pulled his head back. “Okay you do realize that I changed his diapers, right?”
Meg stuck her tongue out at him. “You were what, five?”
“So? He still needed his diapers changed.” The warrior squirmed. “So. We need to find some kind of weapons for Sam and Meg.”
“I should have had a knife when I was taken,” Meg suggested. “It won’t take an angel down, but it’ll work on most other things.”
Sam shrugged. “Any kind of knife or blade will work for me.” He took a deep breath. “You sure you’re okay with that?”
“No,” Dean admitted. “The heart isn’t a machine, Sammy. It’s not like you just… stop feeling a way about things. I know, in my head, that nothing was your fault. When I start to get mad and want to lash out, I have to remind myself that it was wrong, now that I do know. But it’s going to take it a while, you know? I have to learn to stop reacting that way. I mean, it wasn’t just Cas, you know? Dad…” He swallowed. “Dad encouraged me, you know? He didn’t want me thinking of you well.”
Sam looked away. “I know.”
“So I am trying, Sammy,” Dean said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to give you weapons, and I’m going to try really hard not to check in on you every twenty seconds. It’s not going to be easy to unlearn all that distrust. But I’m going to try, and part of that is doing things like it’s already happened and working through it.” He smiled. “You are my brother. And I know you want this to work. I do too. We’ll get there.” He hugged Sam, and Sam was so astonished that for a moment he forgot to hug back.
Then he did, and the whole room breathed a collective sigh of relief. Finally, though, Castiel decided to lead Sam off to bed. He’d had a long and trying day; he needed his rest.
Balthazar directed them to yet another luxuriously appointed cavern chamber, this one decorated with darker colors than the first but still richly appointed. “I’m sorry I made everyone worry,” Sam murmured as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to sit here and watch me while I sleep. I’ve been good; I haven’t tried to sneak off or anything so far, right?” He gave Cas a winsome smile, showing dimples and even teeth.
Castiel reached out and stroked the inside of Sam’s wrist, just below his elbow. It was one of the places where he’d scrubbed himself raw, not that anyone could tell after Castiel had healed him, but the angel didn’t think he’d ever forget the image of the desperation conveyed by that simple act. “Sam,” he said, watching the flesh underneath pebble into goosebumps. “I wasn’t lying before. It’s not an issue of trust; it’s an issue of wanting to make sure that you’re comfortable and well. Everyone here tonight cares for you very deeply, Sam.”
“You don’t even know me,” Sam murmured, looking away. He didn’t withdraw his hand, though, so Castiel felt emboldened.
He dropped his head and kissed the space he’d just touched. “So let me know you, Sam,” he said, in a soft tone.
Sam closed his eyes and breathed deeply. That simple kiss was having an obvious effect on him, that much Castiel could see. “You won’t want to know me once you do.” A light flush spread across Sam’s cheeks and he held his body perfectly still. The urge to bolt thrummed through his muscles, a palpable thing, but he was fighting it. He needed to run, but he wanted to stay.
“You don’t know that. I know that you love your sister and your brother. I know that you would rather endure the worst suffering possible than let the people of Haven face the wrath of the angels. I know that you’ve found ways to use what you’ve learned through everything you’ve endured to the advantage of others. What I’ve seen, I like very much.” He kissed Sam’s arm again, and added a soft nip for emphasis. “Perhaps I might be allowed to make up my own mind on the rest as well.”
Sam swallowed, hard. “What about Meg?”
“Meg knows, Sam. I have a relationship with her, and I would like a relationship with you. She is encouraging of our relationship.” He hesitated. “Are you at peace with the idea?”
Sam nodded, just a little bit. “It’s not - it’s not what they would do here. But I don’t see why you should have to choose.”
“May I kiss you?”
Sam flinched, but bent down and touched his lips to Castiel’s.
Sam kissed differently than Meg did. His kiss was tender, and perhaps a bit hesitant at first, but Castiel supposed that he’d had little enough tenderness in his life since leaving his father’s house. Once he had convinced himself that this was real, however, he brought his hands up to cradle Castiel’s face and take deeper control of the kiss.
Meg kissed like a wicked creature, calling his passions to the surface. Sam, though - he kissed like his very life depended on it, or maybe like Castiel’s did, and if Castiel had a soul to lose he thought Sam might be able to draw it right out of him through his lips alone.
Castiel couldn’t hold back a moan, and he didn’t much want to. He let his hands roam over Sam’s solid pectoral muscles, finding the hard little nubs of his nipples. “Sam,” he whispered, helping him off with his tunic and letting Sam take his off. “Holy Father, you’re beautiful.”
Sam’s face turned bright red. “Castiel,” he said, voice a low, tiger-like growl in the angel’s ear. He sat down on the bed and pulled Castiel down beside him, nibbling from his ear down his neck and finally down to his collarbone. Sam’s teeth were perfect, absolutely perfect, and the gentle little bites made him lose himself in sensation as Sam explored his body with his hands and his tongue. He found Castiel’s nipples and lavished attention on them, something he wouldn’t have thought he’d like until it happened, and what had started out as desire became a pressing need.
Castiel had never been this hard in his life. Part of what was causing that feeling was the fact that one of Sam’s large hands had found his cock and was giving it a few experimental, light-as-a-feather strokes on the outside of his trousers. “Sam!” he gasped. “I think you should stop that!”
Sam pulled away as though he’d been burned. “I’m so sorry,” he said, face exemplifying shame. “I shouldn’t have -“
“Sam.” Castiel put a finger on Sam’s lips. Sam bit his lips, eyes shut. “Look at me, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes flew open.
“I only meant that you should stop because I didn’t want to finish so quickly,” he told his lover. “Please. Let me see you.”
Sam took a deep breath and gave him a sheepish little grin. Then he got up off the bed and took off his kilt. He walked over to the nightstand and looked inside the single drawer, smiling when he found a stone jar. “Balthazar is the best host,” he said with a satisfied smirk, and turned to Castiel. “Okay. Honesty time. Have you ever had sex with a male before?”
Castiel shook his head. “Never.”
“Alright. It’s probably easiest for you to top, then. I think - I think I know what will be good for you. Do you trust me?”
The angel looked at Sam’s large erection, bobbing red and proud against his abdomen. “I trust you,” he said, meeting those kaleidoscopic eyes without flinching.
“Alright. Lie here on your back,” Sam directed, helping Castiel off with his trousers. He licked his lips when he saw Castiel’s unclad cock, eyes glued to it. “This is going to be….” He closed his eyes and smiled, slow and easy and clearly very much at peace, for the moment at least. “Can I taste you, Castiel?”
Castiel nodded. This was something that he and Meg had done; he knew what to expect to some extent. Sam scooted down over Castiel’s lower body and hovered over his erection for a moment, breath hot and damp over his delicate skin and thick, wiry hair. Then Sam looked up and made eye contact with Castiel and took the head of his cock into his mouth.
Just the tip, just the slightest hint of the heat that lay beyond the portal of Sam’s lips, was enough to make Castiel cry out. Sam’s eyes danced merrily as he brought his tongue into the process, swirling it around the head and teasing the slit. Castiel’s hands flailed reflexively, looking for something to grab in case his body floated away on the bliss from Sam’s ministrations. After a moment or two, though, Sam’s mouth couldn’t be satisfied with so little and he lowered his mouth to take in more of Castiel.
“Are you trying to kill me, Sam?” the angel gasped as Sam laid an arm across his hips to keep them from bucking up. “I’m not going to be able to last if you keep doing that.”
Sam pulled off with a pop and a truly wicked grin. “We can’t have that, now, can we?” He climbed up on top of Castiel, straddling him, and reached for the stone jar. “Do you know how to open me up, Castiel?”
Cas shook his head. He knew that it must be done, of course, but his experience with Meg had not included this particular type of penetration.
Sam leaned down and kissed him. “That’s okay. I’m going to show you how, walk you through it.” He slicked up two of his own fingers and two of Castiel’s, and positioned himself over Castiel in such a way that the angel could easily reach him again.
Sam from this angle could certainly be interpreted as intimidating, by someone who saw himself as weak. His body was long - long torso, long limbs, and it was all lean muscle and ink. He reached around himself now and found a place that Castiel couldn’t quite see, given the angle, but it must have been a good place because he gave a little sigh and his face relaxed into a smile. “Alright, Cas. Take one of your fingers and follow mine.”
Castiel didn’t hesitate to obey. Sam’s sigh of pleasure turned into a little moan. “Yes, that’s nice. Just like that,” Sam praised. “That’s great, Cas.”
Sam’s body felt impossibly tight - he couldn’t possibly expect to fit something the size of Castiel’s cock into such a little space, not when he could barely get two fingers in here? Some of Castiel’s doubts must have shown on his face, because Sam gave a breathy little chuckle. “Don’t worry, we’re going to stretch it. It’s going to be fine.”
After a second or two, Sam’s body relaxed around the intrusion, and Sam instructed him to move his finger around a little bit. The angel felt a little silly but Sam made some sounds that changed his mind about that very quickly. He moaned, he sighed, he gasped, and he even shouted once or twice when a particularly good spot was brushed against. After a moment, Sam added another finger. Castiel felt his lover’s body resist the intrusion for a second before it relaxed, and he waited for Sam’s cue before adding his own second finger.
Sam’s pupils had dilated further that Castiel had seen before, almost demon-black, by the time he nodded. “Okay. Fun as this has been, I’m going to need to have you in me now. If that’s still okay with you.”
Castiel, who had been utterly absorbed in watching Sam enjoy the opening process, suddenly remembered that he had a very strong need that Sam had deliberately exacerbated. “That would be a good idea.”
Sam reached for the stone jar again, using the salve inside to slick Castiel’s cock up before lining it up with his own stretched hole. He met Castiel’s eyes, grinned, and slowly sank down, sheathing Cas within himself.
“Oh!” Cas had no other words, either in Enochian or in the human tongue, to describe the feeling when Sam’s body engulfed him. He’d known that it would be tight. He’d known that it would be hot. He’d gleaned that from the way that he’d opened his partner up. This, though - this was something completely different. In a way it seemed crushing, consuming, and in a way it seemed like he wanted to be consumed because nothing could ever be as good as this.
Sam held himself still for a moment. A fine sweat had broken out over his body and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Then he opened them again and started to move.
Sam was impaling himself on Castiel, over and over, and if his cries were anything to go by he was loving every second of it. For Castiel’s part, he understood now why angels were willing to Fall over the issue of sex. The entire world had narrowed until nothing was left but him and Sam, and the rhythm between them. It took Castiel a moment to pick it up, but he wasn’t going to leave Sam to do all of the work by himself. His hips soon began to meet Sam’s in time with the pace that the younger man set, and that just put even more passion into Sam’s frenzied cries.
Castiel didn’t last as long as he might have liked, spilling into Sam as though his Grace were being ripped out of him. Who knew; perhaps it was? He reached up a hand while he still had the presence of mind to do so and touched Sam’s hard, angry-red cock, and it was enough to send him over the edge as well.
Once both men had worked through their orgasms, leaving the bed a sticky, sweaty mess, Sam carefully dismounted from Castiel. He went to find his kilt, but Castiel stopped him. “Sam, you were supposed to be resting. What do you need? I will get it for you.”
Sam ducked his head, blushing. “I was going to get a cloth and some water to clean us up.”
Castiel kissed him and used his Grace to clean them and the bed. “You need your sleep, Sam. And I will lie with you, and watch over you.”
Sam hesitated, but his smile didn’t falter. On the contrary, it got wider. “Alright. I can do that.” He climbed under the covers, and rested his head on Castiel’s chest. “Thanks for that, Cas. That was pretty amazing.”
“It was revelatory.” Castiel put an arm around Sam, holding him closer. “Thank you for that.” He paused, wanting to ask but not wanting to push him into exhaustion. He would ask for more tomorrow or the next time the spirit so moved them both.
The next day they emerged from their room. Meg hugged them both, and they enjoyed the moment as a group, but otherwise no one said anything about the night before. Instead, they all headed back into town and got to work preparing for the onslaught. A few people looked at Sam with speculation, but no one approached him with hostility and a few asked for advice on anti-possession warding.
By mid-afternoon, a new figure appeared at the gates. He gave his name as Loki and said that “Yellow-eyes’ kids sent for me.” That he crossed over the barrier meant that he was neither demon nor angel, although Castiel didn’t think that Sam or Meg would have called for a human or known a human to call. He was short, and had the look of a vagabond to him.
Meg greeted him with a wicked smile. “Loki! How’s tricks?”
“Always the same.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “And you, Samael?”
Sam seemed much less enthusiastic about the new arrival. Perhaps it was simply the result of exposure to humans, but Loki seemed likewise unenthusiastic about Sam. “I’m surprised that you actually showed up,” Sam huffed, arms crossed across his chest. “Come to gawk?”
Loki rolled amber eyes. “Nice. No. You people have put your foot in it but good this time, and I’ve come to try to keep you from tearing down the world.”
Meg pressed her lips together. “Loki is a god. A pagan god.”
“A god of trickery,” Loki reminded them, waggling his eyebrows up and down.
“And I thought we could use all of the help we could get. Which we can.” Meg glared at Sam. “We can’t afford to lose his help, Samael.”
Sam’s nostrils flared. “Which side is he going to help, I wonder?”
“Oh, Sam. You wound me!” Loki pressed his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyelashes.
“It can be arranged.”
Castiel flinched at the tone to Sam’s voice. “Sam,” he said, putting a hand on his lover’s arm. Every muscle under all that tanned and inked skin was hard as a rock. “Who is this man?”
“Sam and I have tangled a time or two,” Loki said, turning to face the rest. “I might or might not have dropped him into a time loop.”
“I might or might not have been the only one you dropped into that loop,” Sam snarled.
Loki held his hands up. “Okay. Fine. I might have killed your brother a hundred and fifty times in that time loop. But it’s not like they stuck!”
Dean looked at Castiel. “Why don’t I remember dying a hundred and fifty times?”
“Part of the deal, Dean-o.” Loki shrugged. “I took you back to the beginning of the loop and let you out of it, he let me go. You should probably be proud of him or something,” he added in an offhand tone. “He did manage to defeat my time loop and find a way out of it. No one had done that before.” He sneered. “Of course, I returned you to the past, and to your father. I returned him to his present, and to his father. None of that matters right now. You need me for what you’re going to be facing.”
Dean looked doubtful. “You can fight angels?”
Loki huffed onto his fingernails and polished them on his shabby tunic. “I’ve tangled with them a time or two, and I’m still here. Sister Stiletto there wouldn’t have called me if I weren’t going to be of some use, right?”
Balthazar wrinkled his nose. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. We do need all of the help we can get. What are the odds that you can get other pagan gods on our side?”
“Limited,” Loki admitted as Sam’s face shut down. “They’re not fans of the angels or the demons, but there’s only so much that they can do against him.”
Dean scoffed. “But you’re different, right?”
Loki smirked. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” He met Castiel’s eyes. “Starting with a good-sized stash of holy oil.”
All three angels present gave a collective gasp. “Where did you get your hands on that?” Balthazar asked, stepping forward. “More to the point, why do you even know about that? That’s not something we brag about.”
The god chuckled. “Don’t I know it.” He brushed his hand against the wall, and Castiel felt a subtle shift.
“What did you just do?” Anael asked, eyes narrowed. “To the barrier? What did you do?”
Sam stepped forward and grabbed Loki’s arm, giving the much-smaller man a little shake. “He altered the wards.” Sam’s eyes went yellow for a moment as he scanned the magical barrier. “He altered them for an archangel. To allow one archangel to pass through.” Sam’s eyes stayed in demonic mode as he held onto the creature in his grasp with more than just his hands.
“Whoa. Hey, there, Samarino, there’s no reason to put the hurt on there. I’m not flying off. Not this time. This whole thing is too big.” He gestured widely, encompassing Haven and the sky above them. “You’ve gotten a hell of a lot stronger since the last time I saw you, kiddo.”
“I had incentive,” Sam growled.
Castiel put a hand on Sam’s bicep. “You can always grab him again if he tries anything, Sam.”
“Who are you?” Anael snapped. “Why are you here?”
“I really am Loki. I really am a trickster god.” Sam’s eyes returned to their usual hazel color as he stepped back, allowing Castiel to guide him, but he didn’t look anywhere but at his enemy. “I just happen to also be an archangel. Used to go by the name of Gabriel.”
Castiel staggered, and now it was Sam’s turn to play the supportive role. “We were told that Lucifer killed you!”
“I’m sure he’d like to. He would if he knew where I was right now.” Gabriel shrugged. “I wasn’t a big fan of the decision to expel him, but whatever. I was also not a big fan of what Heaven turned into after Dad left. Neither, for the record, was Dad. I think he regretted what he’d done.” He sighed. “Lucifer was rebellious, and he was jealous. Dad gave him the boot for his insubordination and Lucifer turned into - well, what he turned into. Mikey turned into someone who thought he was God, and those sniveling shits just lined up behind him rather than thinking for themselves. So Dad just took off. Couldn’t face what he’d done, and I sure wasn’t sticking around to live in Mikey’s play land.
“So I altered my Grace, just enough that they couldn’t find me, and I came to live among the pagans. Kept off the radar, kept my head down. Altering my Grace meant that the wards you put up didn’t keep me out, but they hurt just enough to be annoying. So I fixed it. That’s all. They’ll still keep out the rest of the flock.”
“You abandoned us.” Castiel shook his head as Sam stroked his back. “You walked away!”
“I did.” Gabriel sighed. “I can’t… Look. I didn’t see another solution. I’m still not sure that there was one at the time. But this whole mess? It’s not going to bring our Father home. It’s just going to result in a lot of pain and misery. I wasn’t thrilled with Dad’s new creations myself, but I’ve come to love them too. He gave us a job; it’s time for us to do it. And to help them defend themselves.”
Dean made a face. “Killed me a hundred and fifty times?”
“And look, not a scratch on you!” Gabriel patted him on the chest and tried to walk away, but Sam growled at him in just such a way that even Castiel felt nervous. “Got it, big guy. Hands off Big Bro. Pretty sure there’s going to be a bit of a fight here; we can hash out our personal differences later if you still feel the need.”
Sam’s lip curled but he stepped back, and Gabriel flew away to parts unknown. He returned moments later with a giant amphora that, Castiel had to assume, contained one of the few substances that could harm an angel: holy oil.
Balthazar scratched the back of his own head. “I might have, er, acquired some small items from Heaven’s armory.” He lounged against a wall. “They weren’t going to do anyone any good up there anyway; I mean everyone up there already has something that can kill an angel, am I right?”
Castiel ran a hand over his face. “Am I to understand that you’ve stolen the weaponry of Heaven?”
“Maybe?”
Anael gave a pragmatic shrug. “The weapons will prove useful, Castiel. How they came into our possession is of less import. Balthazar, can you please retrieve the weapons?”
Balthazar obeyed, and they surveyed what they had. Some of the devices were not meant for use on angels, but some could be easily used on the human-like vessels that the angels had created for themselves. The Jewel of Lot, for example, would not kill an angel but it would destroy that vessel, causing them to return to Heaven to create another vessel from scratch, taking him out of the fight for a matter of weeks if not years. There was a bow with arrows tipped with angel blade heads, and Castiel wondered who precisely had decided that was a good idea, but it would come in handy now. Dean took that one. Meg needed no weapon; she had her knife and she had her hellhounds.
Castiel shivered. Hellhounds could harm an angel.
Some Hunters accepted heavenly weapons. Most of them were non-lethal, but Castiel didn’t mind that. He didn’t want to slaughter the Host; he wasn’t Lucifer, after all. He wanted to free them and to not die. To not have their friends die. To remind them of their Father’s true orders.
“Abaddon and her tribe are nearby,” Meg told him as they suited up. Gabriel had returned with two more amphorae of holy oil; the smell alone made Castiel’s stomach turn. “They should arrive about two hours after nightfall.”
“Who knows what they’ll find?” Castiel sighed. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “I apologize. I must admit that this is one aspect of feelings that I do not relish.”
“What, doubt?” She snorted. “No one does.” She embraced him and rested her head on his chest for a moment. “Let’s pretend we all survive for a moment. You really think we have a shot? All three of us?”
Castiel hesitated. He hadn’t thought much about the future. “I don’t know where we’ll go or what we’ll do,” he confessed. “But yes. The two of you already love each other; you are siblings, and you’ve proven that you will risk everything for each other. I see no reason why a third would be harmful.”
She laughed and kissed him. “I love the way you think. We’ll figure it out once we get there.”
As the sun started to set, the team met up on the top of the main gate and waited for Uriel’s return. No one spoke much. Even Gabriel seemed nervous. Balthazar refused to leave Castiel’s side, Anael strained her entire being for some sign of trouble, Meg and Dean sniped at each other, and Sam chewed on his fingernails as his hazel eyes surveyed the horizon in search of his fate.
Finally, exactly twenty-four hours after Uriel had said that he would return, Uriel appeared in precisely the same spot he’d been in before. “Have you made the smart decision and decided to surrender that abomination unto me?”
“Nah,” Dean shouted back. “We think he’s still got some growing to do. We think we’ll keep him for a little while longer. We’re waiting for him to hit seven feet.”
Uriel’s face twisted in fury. “This, then, is the answer you expect me to take back to my superior?”
Anael flew to a spot behind him. A glint of silver flashed in the fading light, and Uriel gasped. “No,” Anael growled into his ear. “This is.”
Uriel’s Grace exploded, leaving the charred remains of his wings on the parched ground. Anael did not stay to admire her handiwork, but flew back into the safety of the walled city.
It was well that she did. A troop of angels appeared just where she’d been, uniforms identical and arrayed for battle. At their head stood Zachariah and Raphael.
Back to Chapter Six -- On to Chapter Eight
Author: safiyabat
Artist: stormbrite
Characters & Pairing(s): Castiel/Sam Winchester, Castiel/Meg
Rating: M
Word Count: 39,134 / 4,772 (chapter)
Warnings: Past non-con (not described, but it exists.) Violence. Consent issues involving possession. This chapter contains sexually explicit material.
Summary: Trick(ster)s and Treats.
Castiel refused to leave Sam alone that night, not because he believed he was untrustworthy, but because he feared for his mental state. He gave Dean and Meg the option of staying with the young man themselves if they didn’t trust Castiel with his virtue, but he absolutely did not feel confident in Sam’s stability right now.
This, of course, prompted Balthazar to press his hands to his chest in mock affront. “Are you suggesting that you don’t trust me with his virtue, Cassie?”
“Absolutely.” Castiel kept a straight face when he replied. “Plus, you’ll try to make him wear tights, and I don’t think he can handle that right now.”
Sam made a face. “Right here, guys. And my mental state absolutely cannot handle tights.”
“Those of us who appreciate a finely shaped set of legs can’t handle you in tights,” Balthazar shot back with a wink, and Castiel felt better. “I mean really, Sam. The kilt is bad enough, and all we can see is those magnificent calves.”
Dean pulled his head back. “Okay you do realize that I changed his diapers, right?”
Meg stuck her tongue out at him. “You were what, five?”
“So? He still needed his diapers changed.” The warrior squirmed. “So. We need to find some kind of weapons for Sam and Meg.”
“I should have had a knife when I was taken,” Meg suggested. “It won’t take an angel down, but it’ll work on most other things.”
Sam shrugged. “Any kind of knife or blade will work for me.” He took a deep breath. “You sure you’re okay with that?”
“No,” Dean admitted. “The heart isn’t a machine, Sammy. It’s not like you just… stop feeling a way about things. I know, in my head, that nothing was your fault. When I start to get mad and want to lash out, I have to remind myself that it was wrong, now that I do know. But it’s going to take it a while, you know? I have to learn to stop reacting that way. I mean, it wasn’t just Cas, you know? Dad…” He swallowed. “Dad encouraged me, you know? He didn’t want me thinking of you well.”
Sam looked away. “I know.”
“So I am trying, Sammy,” Dean said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m going to give you weapons, and I’m going to try really hard not to check in on you every twenty seconds. It’s not going to be easy to unlearn all that distrust. But I’m going to try, and part of that is doing things like it’s already happened and working through it.” He smiled. “You are my brother. And I know you want this to work. I do too. We’ll get there.” He hugged Sam, and Sam was so astonished that for a moment he forgot to hug back.
Then he did, and the whole room breathed a collective sigh of relief. Finally, though, Castiel decided to lead Sam off to bed. He’d had a long and trying day; he needed his rest.
Balthazar directed them to yet another luxuriously appointed cavern chamber, this one decorated with darker colors than the first but still richly appointed. “I’m sorry I made everyone worry,” Sam murmured as he sat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to sit here and watch me while I sleep. I’ve been good; I haven’t tried to sneak off or anything so far, right?” He gave Cas a winsome smile, showing dimples and even teeth.
Castiel reached out and stroked the inside of Sam’s wrist, just below his elbow. It was one of the places where he’d scrubbed himself raw, not that anyone could tell after Castiel had healed him, but the angel didn’t think he’d ever forget the image of the desperation conveyed by that simple act. “Sam,” he said, watching the flesh underneath pebble into goosebumps. “I wasn’t lying before. It’s not an issue of trust; it’s an issue of wanting to make sure that you’re comfortable and well. Everyone here tonight cares for you very deeply, Sam.”
“You don’t even know me,” Sam murmured, looking away. He didn’t withdraw his hand, though, so Castiel felt emboldened.
He dropped his head and kissed the space he’d just touched. “So let me know you, Sam,” he said, in a soft tone.
Sam closed his eyes and breathed deeply. That simple kiss was having an obvious effect on him, that much Castiel could see. “You won’t want to know me once you do.” A light flush spread across Sam’s cheeks and he held his body perfectly still. The urge to bolt thrummed through his muscles, a palpable thing, but he was fighting it. He needed to run, but he wanted to stay.
“You don’t know that. I know that you love your sister and your brother. I know that you would rather endure the worst suffering possible than let the people of Haven face the wrath of the angels. I know that you’ve found ways to use what you’ve learned through everything you’ve endured to the advantage of others. What I’ve seen, I like very much.” He kissed Sam’s arm again, and added a soft nip for emphasis. “Perhaps I might be allowed to make up my own mind on the rest as well.”
Sam swallowed, hard. “What about Meg?”
“Meg knows, Sam. I have a relationship with her, and I would like a relationship with you. She is encouraging of our relationship.” He hesitated. “Are you at peace with the idea?”
Sam nodded, just a little bit. “It’s not - it’s not what they would do here. But I don’t see why you should have to choose.”
“May I kiss you?”
Sam flinched, but bent down and touched his lips to Castiel’s.
Sam kissed differently than Meg did. His kiss was tender, and perhaps a bit hesitant at first, but Castiel supposed that he’d had little enough tenderness in his life since leaving his father’s house. Once he had convinced himself that this was real, however, he brought his hands up to cradle Castiel’s face and take deeper control of the kiss.
Meg kissed like a wicked creature, calling his passions to the surface. Sam, though - he kissed like his very life depended on it, or maybe like Castiel’s did, and if Castiel had a soul to lose he thought Sam might be able to draw it right out of him through his lips alone.
Castiel couldn’t hold back a moan, and he didn’t much want to. He let his hands roam over Sam’s solid pectoral muscles, finding the hard little nubs of his nipples. “Sam,” he whispered, helping him off with his tunic and letting Sam take his off. “Holy Father, you’re beautiful.”
Sam’s face turned bright red. “Castiel,” he said, voice a low, tiger-like growl in the angel’s ear. He sat down on the bed and pulled Castiel down beside him, nibbling from his ear down his neck and finally down to his collarbone. Sam’s teeth were perfect, absolutely perfect, and the gentle little bites made him lose himself in sensation as Sam explored his body with his hands and his tongue. He found Castiel’s nipples and lavished attention on them, something he wouldn’t have thought he’d like until it happened, and what had started out as desire became a pressing need.
Castiel had never been this hard in his life. Part of what was causing that feeling was the fact that one of Sam’s large hands had found his cock and was giving it a few experimental, light-as-a-feather strokes on the outside of his trousers. “Sam!” he gasped. “I think you should stop that!”
Sam pulled away as though he’d been burned. “I’m so sorry,” he said, face exemplifying shame. “I shouldn’t have -“
“Sam.” Castiel put a finger on Sam’s lips. Sam bit his lips, eyes shut. “Look at me, Sam.”
Sam’s eyes flew open.
“I only meant that you should stop because I didn’t want to finish so quickly,” he told his lover. “Please. Let me see you.”
Sam took a deep breath and gave him a sheepish little grin. Then he got up off the bed and took off his kilt. He walked over to the nightstand and looked inside the single drawer, smiling when he found a stone jar. “Balthazar is the best host,” he said with a satisfied smirk, and turned to Castiel. “Okay. Honesty time. Have you ever had sex with a male before?”
Castiel shook his head. “Never.”
“Alright. It’s probably easiest for you to top, then. I think - I think I know what will be good for you. Do you trust me?”
The angel looked at Sam’s large erection, bobbing red and proud against his abdomen. “I trust you,” he said, meeting those kaleidoscopic eyes without flinching.
“Alright. Lie here on your back,” Sam directed, helping Castiel off with his trousers. He licked his lips when he saw Castiel’s unclad cock, eyes glued to it. “This is going to be….” He closed his eyes and smiled, slow and easy and clearly very much at peace, for the moment at least. “Can I taste you, Castiel?”
Castiel nodded. This was something that he and Meg had done; he knew what to expect to some extent. Sam scooted down over Castiel’s lower body and hovered over his erection for a moment, breath hot and damp over his delicate skin and thick, wiry hair. Then Sam looked up and made eye contact with Castiel and took the head of his cock into his mouth.
Just the tip, just the slightest hint of the heat that lay beyond the portal of Sam’s lips, was enough to make Castiel cry out. Sam’s eyes danced merrily as he brought his tongue into the process, swirling it around the head and teasing the slit. Castiel’s hands flailed reflexively, looking for something to grab in case his body floated away on the bliss from Sam’s ministrations. After a moment or two, though, Sam’s mouth couldn’t be satisfied with so little and he lowered his mouth to take in more of Castiel.
“Are you trying to kill me, Sam?” the angel gasped as Sam laid an arm across his hips to keep them from bucking up. “I’m not going to be able to last if you keep doing that.”
Sam pulled off with a pop and a truly wicked grin. “We can’t have that, now, can we?” He climbed up on top of Castiel, straddling him, and reached for the stone jar. “Do you know how to open me up, Castiel?”
Cas shook his head. He knew that it must be done, of course, but his experience with Meg had not included this particular type of penetration.
Sam leaned down and kissed him. “That’s okay. I’m going to show you how, walk you through it.” He slicked up two of his own fingers and two of Castiel’s, and positioned himself over Castiel in such a way that the angel could easily reach him again.
Sam from this angle could certainly be interpreted as intimidating, by someone who saw himself as weak. His body was long - long torso, long limbs, and it was all lean muscle and ink. He reached around himself now and found a place that Castiel couldn’t quite see, given the angle, but it must have been a good place because he gave a little sigh and his face relaxed into a smile. “Alright, Cas. Take one of your fingers and follow mine.”
Castiel didn’t hesitate to obey. Sam’s sigh of pleasure turned into a little moan. “Yes, that’s nice. Just like that,” Sam praised. “That’s great, Cas.”
Sam’s body felt impossibly tight - he couldn’t possibly expect to fit something the size of Castiel’s cock into such a little space, not when he could barely get two fingers in here? Some of Castiel’s doubts must have shown on his face, because Sam gave a breathy little chuckle. “Don’t worry, we’re going to stretch it. It’s going to be fine.”
After a second or two, Sam’s body relaxed around the intrusion, and Sam instructed him to move his finger around a little bit. The angel felt a little silly but Sam made some sounds that changed his mind about that very quickly. He moaned, he sighed, he gasped, and he even shouted once or twice when a particularly good spot was brushed against. After a moment, Sam added another finger. Castiel felt his lover’s body resist the intrusion for a second before it relaxed, and he waited for Sam’s cue before adding his own second finger.
Sam’s pupils had dilated further that Castiel had seen before, almost demon-black, by the time he nodded. “Okay. Fun as this has been, I’m going to need to have you in me now. If that’s still okay with you.”
Castiel, who had been utterly absorbed in watching Sam enjoy the opening process, suddenly remembered that he had a very strong need that Sam had deliberately exacerbated. “That would be a good idea.”
Sam reached for the stone jar again, using the salve inside to slick Castiel’s cock up before lining it up with his own stretched hole. He met Castiel’s eyes, grinned, and slowly sank down, sheathing Cas within himself.
“Oh!” Cas had no other words, either in Enochian or in the human tongue, to describe the feeling when Sam’s body engulfed him. He’d known that it would be tight. He’d known that it would be hot. He’d gleaned that from the way that he’d opened his partner up. This, though - this was something completely different. In a way it seemed crushing, consuming, and in a way it seemed like he wanted to be consumed because nothing could ever be as good as this.
Sam held himself still for a moment. A fine sweat had broken out over his body and he closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Then he opened them again and started to move.
Sam was impaling himself on Castiel, over and over, and if his cries were anything to go by he was loving every second of it. For Castiel’s part, he understood now why angels were willing to Fall over the issue of sex. The entire world had narrowed until nothing was left but him and Sam, and the rhythm between them. It took Castiel a moment to pick it up, but he wasn’t going to leave Sam to do all of the work by himself. His hips soon began to meet Sam’s in time with the pace that the younger man set, and that just put even more passion into Sam’s frenzied cries.
Castiel didn’t last as long as he might have liked, spilling into Sam as though his Grace were being ripped out of him. Who knew; perhaps it was? He reached up a hand while he still had the presence of mind to do so and touched Sam’s hard, angry-red cock, and it was enough to send him over the edge as well.
Once both men had worked through their orgasms, leaving the bed a sticky, sweaty mess, Sam carefully dismounted from Castiel. He went to find his kilt, but Castiel stopped him. “Sam, you were supposed to be resting. What do you need? I will get it for you.”
Sam ducked his head, blushing. “I was going to get a cloth and some water to clean us up.”
Castiel kissed him and used his Grace to clean them and the bed. “You need your sleep, Sam. And I will lie with you, and watch over you.”
Sam hesitated, but his smile didn’t falter. On the contrary, it got wider. “Alright. I can do that.” He climbed under the covers, and rested his head on Castiel’s chest. “Thanks for that, Cas. That was pretty amazing.”
“It was revelatory.” Castiel put an arm around Sam, holding him closer. “Thank you for that.” He paused, wanting to ask but not wanting to push him into exhaustion. He would ask for more tomorrow or the next time the spirit so moved them both.
The next day they emerged from their room. Meg hugged them both, and they enjoyed the moment as a group, but otherwise no one said anything about the night before. Instead, they all headed back into town and got to work preparing for the onslaught. A few people looked at Sam with speculation, but no one approached him with hostility and a few asked for advice on anti-possession warding.
By mid-afternoon, a new figure appeared at the gates. He gave his name as Loki and said that “Yellow-eyes’ kids sent for me.” That he crossed over the barrier meant that he was neither demon nor angel, although Castiel didn’t think that Sam or Meg would have called for a human or known a human to call. He was short, and had the look of a vagabond to him.
Meg greeted him with a wicked smile. “Loki! How’s tricks?”
“Always the same.” He hugged her and kissed her cheek. “And you, Samael?”
Sam seemed much less enthusiastic about the new arrival. Perhaps it was simply the result of exposure to humans, but Loki seemed likewise unenthusiastic about Sam. “I’m surprised that you actually showed up,” Sam huffed, arms crossed across his chest. “Come to gawk?”
Loki rolled amber eyes. “Nice. No. You people have put your foot in it but good this time, and I’ve come to try to keep you from tearing down the world.”
Meg pressed her lips together. “Loki is a god. A pagan god.”
“A god of trickery,” Loki reminded them, waggling his eyebrows up and down.
“And I thought we could use all of the help we could get. Which we can.” Meg glared at Sam. “We can’t afford to lose his help, Samael.”
Sam’s nostrils flared. “Which side is he going to help, I wonder?”
“Oh, Sam. You wound me!” Loki pressed his hands to his chest and fluttered his eyelashes.
“It can be arranged.”
Castiel flinched at the tone to Sam’s voice. “Sam,” he said, putting a hand on his lover’s arm. Every muscle under all that tanned and inked skin was hard as a rock. “Who is this man?”
“Sam and I have tangled a time or two,” Loki said, turning to face the rest. “I might or might not have dropped him into a time loop.”
“I might or might not have been the only one you dropped into that loop,” Sam snarled.
Loki held his hands up. “Okay. Fine. I might have killed your brother a hundred and fifty times in that time loop. But it’s not like they stuck!”
Dean looked at Castiel. “Why don’t I remember dying a hundred and fifty times?”
“Part of the deal, Dean-o.” Loki shrugged. “I took you back to the beginning of the loop and let you out of it, he let me go. You should probably be proud of him or something,” he added in an offhand tone. “He did manage to defeat my time loop and find a way out of it. No one had done that before.” He sneered. “Of course, I returned you to the past, and to your father. I returned him to his present, and to his father. None of that matters right now. You need me for what you’re going to be facing.”
Dean looked doubtful. “You can fight angels?”
Loki huffed onto his fingernails and polished them on his shabby tunic. “I’ve tangled with them a time or two, and I’m still here. Sister Stiletto there wouldn’t have called me if I weren’t going to be of some use, right?”
Balthazar wrinkled his nose. “I hate to say it, but he’s right. We do need all of the help we can get. What are the odds that you can get other pagan gods on our side?”
“Limited,” Loki admitted as Sam’s face shut down. “They’re not fans of the angels or the demons, but there’s only so much that they can do against him.”
Dean scoffed. “But you’re different, right?”
Loki smirked. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve.” He met Castiel’s eyes. “Starting with a good-sized stash of holy oil.”
All three angels present gave a collective gasp. “Where did you get your hands on that?” Balthazar asked, stepping forward. “More to the point, why do you even know about that? That’s not something we brag about.”
The god chuckled. “Don’t I know it.” He brushed his hand against the wall, and Castiel felt a subtle shift.
“What did you just do?” Anael asked, eyes narrowed. “To the barrier? What did you do?”
Sam stepped forward and grabbed Loki’s arm, giving the much-smaller man a little shake. “He altered the wards.” Sam’s eyes went yellow for a moment as he scanned the magical barrier. “He altered them for an archangel. To allow one archangel to pass through.” Sam’s eyes stayed in demonic mode as he held onto the creature in his grasp with more than just his hands.
“Whoa. Hey, there, Samarino, there’s no reason to put the hurt on there. I’m not flying off. Not this time. This whole thing is too big.” He gestured widely, encompassing Haven and the sky above them. “You’ve gotten a hell of a lot stronger since the last time I saw you, kiddo.”
“I had incentive,” Sam growled.
Castiel put a hand on Sam’s bicep. “You can always grab him again if he tries anything, Sam.”
“Who are you?” Anael snapped. “Why are you here?”
“I really am Loki. I really am a trickster god.” Sam’s eyes returned to their usual hazel color as he stepped back, allowing Castiel to guide him, but he didn’t look anywhere but at his enemy. “I just happen to also be an archangel. Used to go by the name of Gabriel.”
Castiel staggered, and now it was Sam’s turn to play the supportive role. “We were told that Lucifer killed you!”
“I’m sure he’d like to. He would if he knew where I was right now.” Gabriel shrugged. “I wasn’t a big fan of the decision to expel him, but whatever. I was also not a big fan of what Heaven turned into after Dad left. Neither, for the record, was Dad. I think he regretted what he’d done.” He sighed. “Lucifer was rebellious, and he was jealous. Dad gave him the boot for his insubordination and Lucifer turned into - well, what he turned into. Mikey turned into someone who thought he was God, and those sniveling shits just lined up behind him rather than thinking for themselves. So Dad just took off. Couldn’t face what he’d done, and I sure wasn’t sticking around to live in Mikey’s play land.
“So I altered my Grace, just enough that they couldn’t find me, and I came to live among the pagans. Kept off the radar, kept my head down. Altering my Grace meant that the wards you put up didn’t keep me out, but they hurt just enough to be annoying. So I fixed it. That’s all. They’ll still keep out the rest of the flock.”
“You abandoned us.” Castiel shook his head as Sam stroked his back. “You walked away!”
“I did.” Gabriel sighed. “I can’t… Look. I didn’t see another solution. I’m still not sure that there was one at the time. But this whole mess? It’s not going to bring our Father home. It’s just going to result in a lot of pain and misery. I wasn’t thrilled with Dad’s new creations myself, but I’ve come to love them too. He gave us a job; it’s time for us to do it. And to help them defend themselves.”
Dean made a face. “Killed me a hundred and fifty times?”
“And look, not a scratch on you!” Gabriel patted him on the chest and tried to walk away, but Sam growled at him in just such a way that even Castiel felt nervous. “Got it, big guy. Hands off Big Bro. Pretty sure there’s going to be a bit of a fight here; we can hash out our personal differences later if you still feel the need.”
Sam’s lip curled but he stepped back, and Gabriel flew away to parts unknown. He returned moments later with a giant amphora that, Castiel had to assume, contained one of the few substances that could harm an angel: holy oil.
Balthazar scratched the back of his own head. “I might have, er, acquired some small items from Heaven’s armory.” He lounged against a wall. “They weren’t going to do anyone any good up there anyway; I mean everyone up there already has something that can kill an angel, am I right?”
Castiel ran a hand over his face. “Am I to understand that you’ve stolen the weaponry of Heaven?”
“Maybe?”
Anael gave a pragmatic shrug. “The weapons will prove useful, Castiel. How they came into our possession is of less import. Balthazar, can you please retrieve the weapons?”
Balthazar obeyed, and they surveyed what they had. Some of the devices were not meant for use on angels, but some could be easily used on the human-like vessels that the angels had created for themselves. The Jewel of Lot, for example, would not kill an angel but it would destroy that vessel, causing them to return to Heaven to create another vessel from scratch, taking him out of the fight for a matter of weeks if not years. There was a bow with arrows tipped with angel blade heads, and Castiel wondered who precisely had decided that was a good idea, but it would come in handy now. Dean took that one. Meg needed no weapon; she had her knife and she had her hellhounds.
Castiel shivered. Hellhounds could harm an angel.
Some Hunters accepted heavenly weapons. Most of them were non-lethal, but Castiel didn’t mind that. He didn’t want to slaughter the Host; he wasn’t Lucifer, after all. He wanted to free them and to not die. To not have their friends die. To remind them of their Father’s true orders.
“Abaddon and her tribe are nearby,” Meg told him as they suited up. Gabriel had returned with two more amphorae of holy oil; the smell alone made Castiel’s stomach turn. “They should arrive about two hours after nightfall.”
“Who knows what they’ll find?” Castiel sighed. He pulled her to him and kissed her forehead. “I apologize. I must admit that this is one aspect of feelings that I do not relish.”
“What, doubt?” She snorted. “No one does.” She embraced him and rested her head on his chest for a moment. “Let’s pretend we all survive for a moment. You really think we have a shot? All three of us?”
Castiel hesitated. He hadn’t thought much about the future. “I don’t know where we’ll go or what we’ll do,” he confessed. “But yes. The two of you already love each other; you are siblings, and you’ve proven that you will risk everything for each other. I see no reason why a third would be harmful.”
She laughed and kissed him. “I love the way you think. We’ll figure it out once we get there.”
As the sun started to set, the team met up on the top of the main gate and waited for Uriel’s return. No one spoke much. Even Gabriel seemed nervous. Balthazar refused to leave Castiel’s side, Anael strained her entire being for some sign of trouble, Meg and Dean sniped at each other, and Sam chewed on his fingernails as his hazel eyes surveyed the horizon in search of his fate.
Finally, exactly twenty-four hours after Uriel had said that he would return, Uriel appeared in precisely the same spot he’d been in before. “Have you made the smart decision and decided to surrender that abomination unto me?”
“Nah,” Dean shouted back. “We think he’s still got some growing to do. We think we’ll keep him for a little while longer. We’re waiting for him to hit seven feet.”
Uriel’s face twisted in fury. “This, then, is the answer you expect me to take back to my superior?”
Anael flew to a spot behind him. A glint of silver flashed in the fading light, and Uriel gasped. “No,” Anael growled into his ear. “This is.”
Uriel’s Grace exploded, leaving the charred remains of his wings on the parched ground. Anael did not stay to admire her handiwork, but flew back into the safety of the walled city.
It was well that she did. A troop of angels appeared just where she’d been, uniforms identical and arrayed for battle. At their head stood Zachariah and Raphael.
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