Put Your Lights On (Sam/Castiel)
Title: Put Your Lights On
Pairing: Sam/Castiel
Rating: hard R
Warnings: semi-explicit/explicit erotica, grace-play, metaphysical sex, mild AU (in which Sam has a lot more hope after the events of this fic)
Spoilers: Set sometime during the early episodes of season 5, contains a spoiler for the season 4 finale
Word Count: 1038
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes.
Summary: The darkness in Sam isn't strong enough to withstand an angel's grace.
Author's Note: After weeks of flirtation with this pairing, I finally got a plot bunny and wrote some Sam/Cas last night. This is my first time with these two, so it's far from perfect and I'm nervous as hell. I can't decide whether I like this fic or not, but I hope you'll enjoy it - my next attempt should do these lovelies more justice.
- Title and cut text are both taken from "Put Your Lights On" by Santana and Everlast
There's a monster livin' under my bed
whispering in my ear
there's an angel with a hand on my head
she say I've got nothing to fear
When Castiel first met Sam, the darkness within him was confined to the man's voice, a dissonant, jarring undercurrent that raked unpleasantly over his vessel's eardrums. It grew steadily, spreading through his soul like a cancer until it could no longer be contained, creeping into the warm hazel of Sam's eyes and curling through his veins. After Sam killed Lilith, it was everywhere, a dark, oily sheen shifting over Sam's body and soul that moved as though it was alive.
The stain had the same effect on his eyes that it had on his ears. Castiel could barely stand to look at the younger Winchester, avoiding any sort of contact with him as well as he could. Castiel hadn't spent much time contemplating how it would feel to touch Sam, but if he had, he would have expected the sensation of the man's skin against his own to be all sandpaper and sharp edges where the unholy taint brushed against his grace. Instead, Sam was soft and warm, with faint echoes of a pure, golden sweetness beneath the surface. The angel's grace reflexively reached towards it, drawn by the clear, pure beauty that could only come from an intact soul. What he found there amazed him - in spite of everything, Sam's soul was still very much alive and fighting, but buried beneath a mountain of guilt and demon-shreds.
Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel saw dark tendrils fleeing from the point of contact like shadows retreating before the first rays of breaking dawn.
He heard a sharp intake of breath, and lifted his gaze to discover that Sam was staring down at the point where the back of Castiel's hand was still brushing his arm. Castiel looked away, severing the touch and walking past him without a word.
------------------------------------------
Three days had passed since the little incident between Castiel and Sam in the hall, and the angel couldn't push the event from his mind. His fingers tingled with the memory of that soul's faint call, and it kept occurring to him that Sam might be salvageable.
As an angel, the concept of salvation was drilled into him nearly as deeply as love of his Creator. The wisp of untainted strength he'd felt reminded Castiel that, whatever Sam had become, he was, at core, a good creature, and as long as that existed, Castiel could not abandon him in good conscience. Saving Sam could save them all, and Castiel found himself unable to resist the impulse to try.
Dean was out on an errand, leaving Sam sitting on his bed, researching. The day was overly warm, and the air conditioning was broken, leaving the younger Winchester shirtless
Without so much as a word of warning, Castiel strode across the room to Sam and wrapped a hand around his wrist.
Sam looked up at Castiel, shock evident on his face as the angel's fingertips trailed along the pattern of vessels running along the inside of his arm.
"Cas, what are you --"
His words were cut off by a gasp as Castiel's heat made its way under his skin. It burned like flame tempered with desire, a sharp, sweet flare that drove away his pain and soothed the ache in his bones. Sam's eyes went wide, watching as Castiel extended his other hand, flattening his palm against the bare skin above Sam's heart. The sensation was so intense it drove the breath from Sam's lungs as Castiel's grace rekindled the light in his soul.
Sam's arms wrapped around Castiel, shoving his trenchcoat aside and pulling his slender form close in search of more. Buttons flew off Castiel's white dress shirt as Sam tore it open, clutching his back and pressing the expanse of pale, newly-exposed skin against his own. Agonizing ecstasy tore through Sam, replaced by blinding pleasure that surged along his nerves. With rough groans pouring from his throat, he ground against Castiel, seeking the angel's mouth with his as fingers tangled in his hair and lithe legs wrapped around his hips.
Without the encroaching darkness, Sam's soul was a glorious, gorgeous thing that blazed beneath the golden contours of his body; he felt like rapture and tasted like Heaven.
Castiel let out a disappointed noise as Sam broke their kiss and began to pry Castiel's limbs loose from their grip around his torso. The angel was confused until he felt Sam's hands on the front of his trousers, unzipping and yanking in a frantic attempt to remove them. The rest of their clothes disappeared with a thought, followed by Sam leaning back onto the mattress and pulling Castiel on top of him.
They moved in a haze of grace against soul and skin against skin, all moans and hitched exhalation as their bodies came together with a slow, silky drag of erections. Castiel's grace searched every scrap of energy in Sam until not a trace of darkness remained, leaving Sam's newly pure essence shining and eager to join with Castiel's.
Twin spikes of brilliant pleasure came to life in Sam and Castiel as the edges of Castiel's grace began to entwine with Sam's soul, building to an impossible peak; a thundering crescendo of divinity and light that spilled over the limits of their nerves, bringing them to orgasm with sharp cries and a violent clash of lips. They clung to each other as they shuddered through their mutual release, spilling hot and thick over the flat planes of their stomachs.
In the aftermath, when the rise and fall of their chests had returned to its usual rhythm, Sam looked at Castiel with shyness and gratitude in his eyes and thanked him in an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice.
The angel smiled, brushing strands of hair away from Sam's face and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Sleep, Sam."
Sam settled, snuggling into the mattress with a contented sigh.
Before Sam drifted off, Castiel heard him mumble, "Cas... Cas, don't go."
Castiel cleaned and clothed them with a snap of his fingers, and after a moment of pondering, curled up next to him, marvelling at the loveliness of the new light that glowed within Sam, gently pulsing with each beat of his heart.
Pairing: Sam/Castiel
Rating: hard R
Warnings: semi-explicit/explicit erotica, grace-play, metaphysical sex, mild AU (in which Sam has a lot more hope after the events of this fic)
Spoilers: Set sometime during the early episodes of season 5, contains a spoiler for the season 4 finale
Word Count: 1038
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters therein are the property of Eric Kripke and the WB/CW, I'm just borrowing them for my own nefarious purposes.
Summary: The darkness in Sam isn't strong enough to withstand an angel's grace.
Author's Note: After weeks of flirtation with this pairing, I finally got a plot bunny and wrote some Sam/Cas last night. This is my first time with these two, so it's far from perfect and I'm nervous as hell. I can't decide whether I like this fic or not, but I hope you'll enjoy it - my next attempt should do these lovelies more justice.
- Title and cut text are both taken from "Put Your Lights On" by Santana and Everlast
There's a monster livin' under my bed
whispering in my ear
there's an angel with a hand on my head
she say I've got nothing to fear
When Castiel first met Sam, the darkness within him was confined to the man's voice, a dissonant, jarring undercurrent that raked unpleasantly over his vessel's eardrums. It grew steadily, spreading through his soul like a cancer until it could no longer be contained, creeping into the warm hazel of Sam's eyes and curling through his veins. After Sam killed Lilith, it was everywhere, a dark, oily sheen shifting over Sam's body and soul that moved as though it was alive.
The stain had the same effect on his eyes that it had on his ears. Castiel could barely stand to look at the younger Winchester, avoiding any sort of contact with him as well as he could. Castiel hadn't spent much time contemplating how it would feel to touch Sam, but if he had, he would have expected the sensation of the man's skin against his own to be all sandpaper and sharp edges where the unholy taint brushed against his grace. Instead, Sam was soft and warm, with faint echoes of a pure, golden sweetness beneath the surface. The angel's grace reflexively reached towards it, drawn by the clear, pure beauty that could only come from an intact soul. What he found there amazed him - in spite of everything, Sam's soul was still very much alive and fighting, but buried beneath a mountain of guilt and demon-shreds.
Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel saw dark tendrils fleeing from the point of contact like shadows retreating before the first rays of breaking dawn.
He heard a sharp intake of breath, and lifted his gaze to discover that Sam was staring down at the point where the back of Castiel's hand was still brushing his arm. Castiel looked away, severing the touch and walking past him without a word.
------------------------------------------
Three days had passed since the little incident between Castiel and Sam in the hall, and the angel couldn't push the event from his mind. His fingers tingled with the memory of that soul's faint call, and it kept occurring to him that Sam might be salvageable.
As an angel, the concept of salvation was drilled into him nearly as deeply as love of his Creator. The wisp of untainted strength he'd felt reminded Castiel that, whatever Sam had become, he was, at core, a good creature, and as long as that existed, Castiel could not abandon him in good conscience. Saving Sam could save them all, and Castiel found himself unable to resist the impulse to try.
Dean was out on an errand, leaving Sam sitting on his bed, researching. The day was overly warm, and the air conditioning was broken, leaving the younger Winchester shirtless
Without so much as a word of warning, Castiel strode across the room to Sam and wrapped a hand around his wrist.
Sam looked up at Castiel, shock evident on his face as the angel's fingertips trailed along the pattern of vessels running along the inside of his arm.
"Cas, what are you --"
His words were cut off by a gasp as Castiel's heat made its way under his skin. It burned like flame tempered with desire, a sharp, sweet flare that drove away his pain and soothed the ache in his bones. Sam's eyes went wide, watching as Castiel extended his other hand, flattening his palm against the bare skin above Sam's heart. The sensation was so intense it drove the breath from Sam's lungs as Castiel's grace rekindled the light in his soul.
Sam's arms wrapped around Castiel, shoving his trenchcoat aside and pulling his slender form close in search of more. Buttons flew off Castiel's white dress shirt as Sam tore it open, clutching his back and pressing the expanse of pale, newly-exposed skin against his own. Agonizing ecstasy tore through Sam, replaced by blinding pleasure that surged along his nerves. With rough groans pouring from his throat, he ground against Castiel, seeking the angel's mouth with his as fingers tangled in his hair and lithe legs wrapped around his hips.
Without the encroaching darkness, Sam's soul was a glorious, gorgeous thing that blazed beneath the golden contours of his body; he felt like rapture and tasted like Heaven.
Castiel let out a disappointed noise as Sam broke their kiss and began to pry Castiel's limbs loose from their grip around his torso. The angel was confused until he felt Sam's hands on the front of his trousers, unzipping and yanking in a frantic attempt to remove them. The rest of their clothes disappeared with a thought, followed by Sam leaning back onto the mattress and pulling Castiel on top of him.
They moved in a haze of grace against soul and skin against skin, all moans and hitched exhalation as their bodies came together with a slow, silky drag of erections. Castiel's grace searched every scrap of energy in Sam until not a trace of darkness remained, leaving Sam's newly pure essence shining and eager to join with Castiel's.
Twin spikes of brilliant pleasure came to life in Sam and Castiel as the edges of Castiel's grace began to entwine with Sam's soul, building to an impossible peak; a thundering crescendo of divinity and light that spilled over the limits of their nerves, bringing them to orgasm with sharp cries and a violent clash of lips. They clung to each other as they shuddered through their mutual release, spilling hot and thick over the flat planes of their stomachs.
In the aftermath, when the rise and fall of their chests had returned to its usual rhythm, Sam looked at Castiel with shyness and gratitude in his eyes and thanked him in an uncharacteristically soft tone of voice.
The angel smiled, brushing strands of hair away from Sam's face and pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"Sleep, Sam."
Sam settled, snuggling into the mattress with a contented sigh.
Before Sam drifted off, Castiel heard him mumble, "Cas... Cas, don't go."
Castiel cleaned and clothed them with a snap of his fingers, and after a moment of pondering, curled up next to him, marvelling at the loveliness of the new light that glowed within Sam, gently pulsing with each beat of his heart.