Fluffy Fluff Fluff. For theangel_cas

[soulkink]

He's bleeding, and it's not stopping.  That's new.  After being a demon for several hundred years, longer, I'd one counts the passage of time in the Pit, and it's easy to forget just what being human means.  Cut off from Hell, on the run from Lucifer and every demon that might know his face, it had taken only the spell of a particularly powerful

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[theangel_cas]

Castiel moves to Crowley quickly, looking mildly concerned, which, for Castiel, translated to far more concern than that. Castiel was not exactly what he'd once been and while he could heal, if Crowley actually died, he wouldn't even know where to begin to look for his soul.

"You shouldn't have tried to do that alone."

He lays a hand on Crowley's shoulder, leaning in to inspect the damage.

"Come here."

He knows that Dean doesn't exactly treat Crowley well and he's been trying to get both of them to get along, but sometimes it seems easier to just play go-between than to force them together.

[soulkink]

"Idiot nearly got himself killed, and then where would we be?"

He's smiling because it's Castiel and he might be bleeding, but that doesn't stop him from thinking the angel is stunning. He shivers a little as the angel leans in; it's not good, but probably not going to kill him. Of course, the former-demon is likely too stubborn to die for Dean Winchester anyway. He obligingly shifts, leans into the angel, still smiling as he looks up at him, and maybe this is what shock feels like, he's not entirely sure.

"You're beautiful, you know, angel."

Not that he hasn't flirted with Castiel before, but somehow right now it seemed incredibly important to tell him that. He reached up, brushing a hand against his cheek with a flutter of his eyelashes because fuck but he wanted him. Not that Cas seemed to understand that, but that never stopped Crowley.

[theangel_cas]

"You've never struck me as the self-sacrificing type, Crowley. You should have prayed to me. I would have come."

He squeezes Crowley's shoulder, using the power of his grace to heal some of the superficial wounds. He'll still be sore, but at least Castiel won't have to worry about him bleeding out somewhere. His power is diminished now, but it's not gone yet.

He tilts his head, leaning into Crowley's touch. It's nice. No one else ever touches him like that.

"My true form would burn out your eyes if you saw it." But he lets himself smile at Crowley just a little. It still feels like a compliment. His vessel feels more and more part of him with every passing day.