Repentance
Title: Repentance
Author: Sara Ellison
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Robo!Sam/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Season 6 (see pairing)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Warnings: Dubcon, D/s themes, PWP
Summary: Cas wants Sam's forgiveness. If this is how he wants to earn it, Sam is only too happy to give it to him.
Author's notes: I just realized it's taken me over a year to finish this. I have no excuse.
The angel knelt on the hard, dusty floor of the warehouse, looking up at Sam from under his thick lashes. The emotion in his eyes was something Sam couldn't quite quantify--he wasn't so good with that sort of subtlety, these days--but Castiel's whole expressive face looked so gentle, sweet and beautiful. Sam wanted so badly to cover it with his come.
"You want my forgiveness for what, exactly?" he queried, just to clarify. Cas had asked to meet him here, being unusually cryptic even for him. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and now...
"For wronging you," the angel said again, earnestly, and would not elaborate further, just gazed up at Sam with his clear blue eyes filled with...hope, Sam guessed, and maybe pain as well. Sam narrowed his eyes, studying Castiel's face. The angel stared back, caught his lower lip between his teeth and something deep inside Sam twinged.
"Okay," he murmured. He cupped his left hand under the angel's chin, tipping his face up toward Sam's. His fingers stroked gently along the edge of Castiel's jaw, soothing. "Okay. I'll let you earn my forgiveness."
Castiel's eyes widened. "Thank you," he breathed, swallowing visibly.
Sam shut his eyes, suppressing a surge of lust. For the life of him, he couldn't think of what, but he must have done something really fucking good for this to be happening. He had been half-hard since the moment Cas dropped to his knees, and his arousal had only increased in the time since. He took a deep breath, steadying, reasserting his control, and opened his eyes again to meet the angel's blue gaze as his right hand drifted toward the waistband of his jeans. "Okay," he said again, "here's what you're gonna do. And if you're good, you'll be forgiven."
The way Cas was kneeling in front of him, his face was practically in Sam's crotch already. Given this proximity, Cas couldn't help but notice the telltale bulge; he could probably smell the precome beading at the head of Sam's cock, and that thought alone was enough to make Sam choke back a moan of desire.
Castiel's eyes snapped from Sam's face to his crotch as Sam popped open the button on his jeans. The push of his erection, straining against his fly, forced open the zipper with only a little help from Sam. He was bare beneath the denim; Cas, on his knees, swayed a little, ever so slightly leaning toward Sam's flushed cock before seeming to catch himself. The motion was so small as to be imperceptible to anyone with less keenly-attuned senses, anyone who wasn't as good a hunter as Sam. Cas, it seemed, was as eager to please Sam, to earn his forgiveness, as Sam was to have that mouth wrapped around his cock.
That mouth. It had been a lurking presence in the back of Sam's mind since he'd first met Castiel, steadfastly ignored; it's not like he'd spent any time thinking about what it might be like to fuck the angel's face. There had always been a vague sense of wrongness, of unease and shame about having noticed the seductive softness of his lips. But since he'd gotten back from Hell, Sam no longer felt things like shame or unease, and the first time since he got back that he found himself alone and horny, he found his mind drifting towards Cas and that sinful mouth of his.
Part of him had suspected Cas knew what thoughts Sam entertained in the privacy of his bedroom, and that's why he hadn't answered Sam's prayers until Dean came back into his life--knew that, whatever Sam might vocalize when he requested the angel's presence, his true motive was less than pure. Not that he even entertained concepts like purity, these days. But now, having Cas staring hungrily at his cock like this, breath bursting in short pants through his parted lips, it was like a dream come true, Sam's fantasies made flesh. He thrust his pelvis forward, imprecisely rubbing his length over the angel's face, leaving sticky smears of slick on Cas' forehead.
Cas mouthed at Sam's balls, lips loose and damp, his breath hot on the sensitive skin. He sucked lightly at the tender skin, his tongue flicking against Sam’s sac in an agonizing tease, a hint of pleasure that could be so much more. Sam growled in the back of his throat, low and animalistic. The angel made a soft sound in response, one with meaning Sam couldn’t even guess at.
That was about all the teasing Sam could stand. He caught hold of Cas’ jaw, holding him still, his mouth open as Sam pushed the head of his cock between those soft lips. Cas closed his mouth around Sam’s girth obediently, his tongue curling around the crown to gently pull Sam’s cock deeper into his mouth. Sam groaned, his hand cupping the side of the angel’s face, steadying him as he rocked his hips incrementally. He felt the head of his cock bump Cas’ soft palate, felt him swallow effortlessly against his gag reflex--the instinct of the human vessel, controlled by the higher being--resulting in delicious suction, the tightness of his throat around Sam’s dick making his breath catch.
He wasn’t even fully sheathed in Cas’ mouth when he pulled back, sliding out until Cas’ lips were stretched around the flared head again before thrusting back in, his other hand catching hold of the angel’s thick hair, fingers carding through the dark strands. He shoved in until Cas’ nose was pressed into the hair at the base of Sam’s cock, his breathing cut off--he didn’t need to breathe, but he usually did for the vessel’s sake. His neck was arched to accommodate Sam’s stiff length; that couldn’t be comfortable, but Sam could not bring himself to care. Running his thumb down the column of Cas’ neck, he felt his own cock head outlined in the angel’s throat and nearly came right then. He bit down hard on his lower lip and managed to maintain control.
“Fuck, Cas,” he murmured, pulling out just far enough that he could meet the angel’s eyes, his electric-blue gaze like a shock up Sam’s spine. He felt his cock jerk between Cas’ lips, pooling precome on his tongue. “You know how you look, Cas? How fucking hot you are with your mouth--fuck--wrapped around my dick?” He rolled his hips, thrusting in, feeling himself slide down Cas’ throat under his skin. “God. You were made for this, you know that?” His breath was coming as hard and fast as his thrusts. “Made to suck my cock, Cas. So pretty on your knees...” He blinked, hard, because the haze of arousal was threatening to overwhelm his vision, and this was a sight too incredible to be wasted. His eyes were watering with the effort to keep them focused.
Castiel moaned, deep and resonant, vibrating through Sam’s flesh and his very bones, and he was done. The first pulse spurted down Cas’ throat, and Sam felt him swallow even as he yanked at the angel’s hair, gasping, shoving him off Sam’s dick. He grabbed himself with his other hand, aiming at Cas’ face as he came. He trembled with the force of it as he painted the angel’s skin in streaks of white, gasping for breath. Cas didn’t even close his eyes as the slick ropes fell across his face, only gazed up at Sam with that same incomprehensible emotion burning in his eyes.
“God, Cas,” Sam groaned, steadying himself, grounded by that hand on Cas’ scalp. He trailed a fingertip along Cas’ cheekbone, tracing through lines of come, then dragged it over the angel’s lower lip. Cas’ tongue flicked out as though automatically, pulling the finger into his mouth and sucking it clean. Sam shuddered on an exhale, his spent cock giving a pathetic, hopeful twitch. “God. Okay.”
“Okay?” Cas repeated, half a whisper. Sam thought he might have sounded hoarse--and small wonder, with the way he’d fucked his throat--but with his voice so soft, it was hard to tell.
“Okay, Cas,” he said. “Okay. I forgive you.”
Cas slumped as though a string holding him up had snapped, only Sam’s fistful of his hair keeping him from collapsing right onto the filthy floor. “Thank you, Sam,” he breathed.
Author: Sara Ellison
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing: Robo!Sam/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Season 6 (see pairing)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Warnings: Dubcon, D/s themes, PWP
Summary: Cas wants Sam's forgiveness. If this is how he wants to earn it, Sam is only too happy to give it to him.
Author's notes: I just realized it's taken me over a year to finish this. I have no excuse.
The angel knelt on the hard, dusty floor of the warehouse, looking up at Sam from under his thick lashes. The emotion in his eyes was something Sam couldn't quite quantify--he wasn't so good with that sort of subtlety, these days--but Castiel's whole expressive face looked so gentle, sweet and beautiful. Sam wanted so badly to cover it with his come.
"You want my forgiveness for what, exactly?" he queried, just to clarify. Cas had asked to meet him here, being unusually cryptic even for him. Curiosity had gotten the better of him, and now...
"For wronging you," the angel said again, earnestly, and would not elaborate further, just gazed up at Sam with his clear blue eyes filled with...hope, Sam guessed, and maybe pain as well. Sam narrowed his eyes, studying Castiel's face. The angel stared back, caught his lower lip between his teeth and something deep inside Sam twinged.
"Okay," he murmured. He cupped his left hand under the angel's chin, tipping his face up toward Sam's. His fingers stroked gently along the edge of Castiel's jaw, soothing. "Okay. I'll let you earn my forgiveness."
Castiel's eyes widened. "Thank you," he breathed, swallowing visibly.
Sam shut his eyes, suppressing a surge of lust. For the life of him, he couldn't think of what, but he must have done something really fucking good for this to be happening. He had been half-hard since the moment Cas dropped to his knees, and his arousal had only increased in the time since. He took a deep breath, steadying, reasserting his control, and opened his eyes again to meet the angel's blue gaze as his right hand drifted toward the waistband of his jeans. "Okay," he said again, "here's what you're gonna do. And if you're good, you'll be forgiven."
The way Cas was kneeling in front of him, his face was practically in Sam's crotch already. Given this proximity, Cas couldn't help but notice the telltale bulge; he could probably smell the precome beading at the head of Sam's cock, and that thought alone was enough to make Sam choke back a moan of desire.
Castiel's eyes snapped from Sam's face to his crotch as Sam popped open the button on his jeans. The push of his erection, straining against his fly, forced open the zipper with only a little help from Sam. He was bare beneath the denim; Cas, on his knees, swayed a little, ever so slightly leaning toward Sam's flushed cock before seeming to catch himself. The motion was so small as to be imperceptible to anyone with less keenly-attuned senses, anyone who wasn't as good a hunter as Sam. Cas, it seemed, was as eager to please Sam, to earn his forgiveness, as Sam was to have that mouth wrapped around his cock.
That mouth. It had been a lurking presence in the back of Sam's mind since he'd first met Castiel, steadfastly ignored; it's not like he'd spent any time thinking about what it might be like to fuck the angel's face. There had always been a vague sense of wrongness, of unease and shame about having noticed the seductive softness of his lips. But since he'd gotten back from Hell, Sam no longer felt things like shame or unease, and the first time since he got back that he found himself alone and horny, he found his mind drifting towards Cas and that sinful mouth of his.
Part of him had suspected Cas knew what thoughts Sam entertained in the privacy of his bedroom, and that's why he hadn't answered Sam's prayers until Dean came back into his life--knew that, whatever Sam might vocalize when he requested the angel's presence, his true motive was less than pure. Not that he even entertained concepts like purity, these days. But now, having Cas staring hungrily at his cock like this, breath bursting in short pants through his parted lips, it was like a dream come true, Sam's fantasies made flesh. He thrust his pelvis forward, imprecisely rubbing his length over the angel's face, leaving sticky smears of slick on Cas' forehead.
Cas mouthed at Sam's balls, lips loose and damp, his breath hot on the sensitive skin. He sucked lightly at the tender skin, his tongue flicking against Sam’s sac in an agonizing tease, a hint of pleasure that could be so much more. Sam growled in the back of his throat, low and animalistic. The angel made a soft sound in response, one with meaning Sam couldn’t even guess at.
That was about all the teasing Sam could stand. He caught hold of Cas’ jaw, holding him still, his mouth open as Sam pushed the head of his cock between those soft lips. Cas closed his mouth around Sam’s girth obediently, his tongue curling around the crown to gently pull Sam’s cock deeper into his mouth. Sam groaned, his hand cupping the side of the angel’s face, steadying him as he rocked his hips incrementally. He felt the head of his cock bump Cas’ soft palate, felt him swallow effortlessly against his gag reflex--the instinct of the human vessel, controlled by the higher being--resulting in delicious suction, the tightness of his throat around Sam’s dick making his breath catch.
He wasn’t even fully sheathed in Cas’ mouth when he pulled back, sliding out until Cas’ lips were stretched around the flared head again before thrusting back in, his other hand catching hold of the angel’s thick hair, fingers carding through the dark strands. He shoved in until Cas’ nose was pressed into the hair at the base of Sam’s cock, his breathing cut off--he didn’t need to breathe, but he usually did for the vessel’s sake. His neck was arched to accommodate Sam’s stiff length; that couldn’t be comfortable, but Sam could not bring himself to care. Running his thumb down the column of Cas’ neck, he felt his own cock head outlined in the angel’s throat and nearly came right then. He bit down hard on his lower lip and managed to maintain control.
“Fuck, Cas,” he murmured, pulling out just far enough that he could meet the angel’s eyes, his electric-blue gaze like a shock up Sam’s spine. He felt his cock jerk between Cas’ lips, pooling precome on his tongue. “You know how you look, Cas? How fucking hot you are with your mouth--fuck--wrapped around my dick?” He rolled his hips, thrusting in, feeling himself slide down Cas’ throat under his skin. “God. You were made for this, you know that?” His breath was coming as hard and fast as his thrusts. “Made to suck my cock, Cas. So pretty on your knees...” He blinked, hard, because the haze of arousal was threatening to overwhelm his vision, and this was a sight too incredible to be wasted. His eyes were watering with the effort to keep them focused.
Castiel moaned, deep and resonant, vibrating through Sam’s flesh and his very bones, and he was done. The first pulse spurted down Cas’ throat, and Sam felt him swallow even as he yanked at the angel’s hair, gasping, shoving him off Sam’s dick. He grabbed himself with his other hand, aiming at Cas’ face as he came. He trembled with the force of it as he painted the angel’s skin in streaks of white, gasping for breath. Cas didn’t even close his eyes as the slick ropes fell across his face, only gazed up at Sam with that same incomprehensible emotion burning in his eyes.
“God, Cas,” Sam groaned, steadying himself, grounded by that hand on Cas’ scalp. He trailed a fingertip along Cas’ cheekbone, tracing through lines of come, then dragged it over the angel’s lower lip. Cas’ tongue flicked out as though automatically, pulling the finger into his mouth and sucking it clean. Sam shuddered on an exhale, his spent cock giving a pathetic, hopeful twitch. “God. Okay.”
“Okay?” Cas repeated, half a whisper. Sam thought he might have sounded hoarse--and small wonder, with the way he’d fucked his throat--but with his voice so soft, it was hard to tell.
“Okay, Cas,” he said. “Okay. I forgive you.”
Cas slumped as though a string holding him up had snapped, only Sam’s fistful of his hair keeping him from collapsing right onto the filthy floor. “Thank you, Sam,” he breathed.