goesdown | s9 future thing

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s9 future thing

Crowley hates the bunker. It's stuffy and full of things that can kill him, including Sam and Dean and now Castiel. Sure, he's not chained to a chair anymore, but the way they're all watching him isn't much different.

They know they've got him by the short and curlies with Abaddon out there and now that he's helped them, he's at least got them convinced that he's useful. It's the best he can get right now, but his situation will improve with time. At least now he can relax in nicer chairs.

Getting along with Castiel is actually a little rougher than the boys. Maybe it's because he still feels so angry when he looks at the angel. He doesn't feel any real animosity towards them, at least not anything so personal that he can't let it go to save his own hide.

Castiel is another story, but he's honestly trying, because this is the safest place he can be and he doesn't want them kicking him out until they've dealt with Abaddon.

He does miss Kevin, though. Kevin was simple--not in the stupid way, but in the way where Crowley could predict what he would do. Castiel isn't like that at all. Obviously.

Even with all the guilt swirling around, he feels no regrets for hurting Castiel. That's probably a bit odd, isn't it?

Now, he's holed up in the kitchen the sad stack of books that they've deemed safe for him to read. The bastards won't even let him in the library.

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He registers Crowley holding onto him, and Crowley submitting to the kiss, to a certain extent, and he files the facts away as if he's settled them and what they mean. He hasn't though, not really. His main focus is on kissing Crowley and enjoying the heat of his mouth, the press of his hands, and the pleasant feelings radiating through him.

Becoming human has both heightened and dulled his senses. His taste buds are very disappointing now, for example, and now, his body isn't sparking the way it did with the reaper, but there's something stirring, something that he thinks he could chase, if given the time. Maybe he could revive some of that feeling in him again.

He kisses Crowley deeper, and he doesn't want to let on that he's looking for something of his own here, that he's searching for something in this kiss. He just pulls Crowley's hips in against his own, forcing Crowley off balance for a moment, and his hand moves around to his lower back, fabric bunching.

It's a bit surprising how easily this seems to come to Castiel now. He remembers sealing their deal and he remembers what Castiel was like. He's changed. It's certainly not bad though, and he moans into the kiss.

That surprise only serves to make Crowley far more pliant than he might normally be. He's moved easily in Castiel's grip and he's left clinging to Castiel's clothes for his own balance, half-hard cock pressing shamelessly against Castiel's thigh.

This is oddly perfect and Crowley doesn't intend to let Castiel wiggle away this time. He's going to make what this is and what he wants abundantly clear, because newfound skills or not, he knows that Castiel can be... oblivious and single-minded. Crowley wants that single-mindedness pointed firmly at himself.

Oh. He can feel Crowley's growing interest pressing against his thigh. He might have second guessed what it is that he's feeling since it's not a full erection, but now that he's aware of what he should be trying to pay attention to, he notices. That's interesting.

That's all it is. Interesting. A fact that Castiel files away and has no feelings about whatsoever.

Kissing Crowley is at least enjoyable. It's not hard to forget who it is that he's kissing exactly and enjoy the way their mouths move together, how Crowley arches into him.

It's only a test when he moves his hand lower, settling it heavily against Crowley's ass and then using that for more leverage, to pull Crowley in against him. He just wants to see what he'll do if Castiel is grabbing his ass and sliding his leg between Crowley's, giving him something to grind his growing erection against.

Interesting is certainly an accurate, if lackluster way to describe this. Crowley's interest is caught, at least.

Regardless of what might be going on in Castiel's head--and Crowley really has no clue what that might be--he does seem to be enjoying this. Why else would he do it?

His hands slide up to wind around Castiel's neck, desperate and demanding as he's groped and pulled against Castiel's thigh. He rolls his hips and breaks the kiss to moan against Castiel's throat.

As Crowley moves against him, Castiel notices that he, too, is becoming hard. Crowley moans against his throat and Castiel shivers -- from the noise, from the sensation, and also from the realization that he's breathing heavily. Yes, he is enjoying this, and there is something sparking low in his gut, something warm and familiar and closer to being a human than anything else has felt.

It's still not quite there -- it's not quite enough, not quite as good as it was then, but there's still the promise of something more, pushing underneath the surface.

He pulls back just slightly, just enough to look Crowley in the eye. His gaze is just as hard and cold as it was, hovering near threatening. This could be his out, he supposes. Instead, he crushes their mouths together again, something like a moan but more like a hum low in his throat.

There's a moment where Crowley feels like he could lose himself in this and no small part of him desperately wants that, too. Castiel is warm and he smells like something otherworldly and dangerous and a little bit like that damned Impala and Crowley would honestly let Castiel take a sad amount right now.

Then Castiel pulls back and a cold stone sinks in his stomach. He's going to get left again, hard and wanting. Still, he keeps his eyes locked with Castiel's and when the next kiss comes, it only takes a moment for him to get with the picture and kiss back, one hand slipping into Castiel's hair.

He thinks he likes this. Obviously, his vessel is enjoying the physical sensation, but everything else about it -- the way Crowley is responding to him, the hand in his hair, how Castiel has him pressed against the bookcases -- it all speaks to an interesting power shift between them, and one that he can approve of.

Probably it would be a good idea to stop, but also, why? He's well aware of his faculties, and this isn't affecting his sympathies regarding Crowley. He still doesn't want to be his friend. And Castiel is very aware that sex can be just that, just sex, even when you're harboring murderous intent for the other person.

The kiss continues, and it's very good, but Castiel has too much energy mounting, and he needs to move, so he grabs Crowley again and maneuvers him against the table instead, pushing him back against it. He puts his hand in Crowley's hair, fingers running through the short strands as he angles him for a deeper kiss.

Crowley knows that he's well and truly lost when Castiel starts to manhandle him again and he puts up no resistance whatsoever. He can't even pretend that he wants to when there's so much promise and intent in the way Castiel is touching him.

Holding on and going where he's put is all he can do not to fall over himself as Castiel pushes him to the table and he sits easily, tugging at Castiel and hoping that he'll get the picture and follow him down.

He may be a little more human than he was, but he's still a demon and he still very much enjoys a little pain with his pleasure. He wants Castiel to fuck him so hard that they break the table and there's no other outcome he'll accept here.

The kiss is hard and biting, but still he yields power to Castiel for the moment. Castiel wears that power so well--better than Crowley might have expected without the help of Leviathan, but this is a far more attractive picture, because this is only Castiel and Castiel wants him.

His thighs are spread as he pulls Castiel closer, wanton and all but begging for it with his body language as his erection presses insistently against his now too-tight pants.

He does certainly feel powerful right now, and he's getting off on it, to a certain extent, mostly because he feels very in control of himself and the situation. He feels like he's still thinking rationally, even as he steps between Crowley's thighs and presses their erections together, even as he kisses him relentlessly, using the fact that neither of them need to breathe to keep pushing at his mouth.

This is his choice, after all. He can pull away and leave Crowley in here, like he did before in the kitchen, but he's choosing to keep going, for now, at least. It's Crowley who's at the disadvantage here, and Castiel does follow him back onto the table, making sure that Crowley feels Castiel's body weight pressing down on him.

He does draw back eventually, mostly because he wants to see Crowley as he is, wanton and lustful on the table. He slips a hand between them and squeezes his erection, as he tilts his head at him, his expression as curious and probing as his touch.

"You want this." It's maybe a question and maybe finally a verbalizing of his realization from the other day in the kitchen.

Crowley rocks against Castiel without much in the way of concern for him composure. He's already lost it and if he can't save face, anyway, he may as well enjoy the ride. And, oh, will his enjoy this ride.

Castiel is hard against him and he hooks a leg around the angel to keep him close. The one missing piece in this thing has always been whether Castiel wants it and he's got confirmation of that rubbing up against him.

The table is hard on his back and he can tell he'll have a few bruises just from this. He can't imagine what he'll look like by the time they're finished and he can't want for that slow, aching pain to settle along his back.

He licks his lips and presses into Castiel's hand.

"W-what have I ever done to make you think otherwise?"

"You ripped a tablet out of my chest and left me to die." Of course, that was after Castiel had already betrayed him, but he'd thought he'd broken something between them irreparably, or at least he's never concerned himself with worrying about repairing it. He's not convinced he'd been mistaken in his disinterest, but it's good to know that, apparently, Crowley still wants to have sex with him.

He squeezes Crowley again, rough and without much finesse, because he isn't really thinking about what might be too much and what might feel good. He drags the heel of his palm over the outline of his cock, but his eyes are trained on Crowley's face. His other hand is still holding him down, planted firmly on his shoulder.

"Maybe I ought to leave you in this state." Again, he doesn't add.

Crowley is ready to point out that he cut off Kevin's finger and he likes him, too. It's all a matter of perspective and that much attention from a demon is certainly a clue of some sort of interest, isn't it? He didn't say he was in love with Cas, only that he wanted to get down and dirty with him.

He ready to point all of that out, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a loud, drawn-out moan. Castiel is hardly gentle and that might not be fun for a human, but Crowley's still a far cry from human and the too-hard pressure on his cock has him spreading his thighs and moaning like a whore for Castiel.

His mouth falls open as he tries to buck into that pressure, held down only by Castiel's strength.

"Don't you dare!"

He grabs for Castiel's sleeve.

There's something happening in Castiel. It's similar to the arousal he felt as a human, but not quite the same, and he'd blame it on his grace, but he thinks instead it has something to do with the rush of power he feels when Crowley moans and clings to him, when he protests so strongly against the idea of Castiel leaving him.

Castiel is doing well for himself considering how little practical experience he has; he is a fast learner, at least, and also has had plenty of time to watch people have sex. Still, he finds himself unsure of what he ought to do with Crowley, with his legs spread and eagerness in his eyes. He's aware of his options, but he doesn't want to let his doubts show.

So instead he grips his shoulder tighter, his fingertips pressing in; there will likely be bruises there tomorrow. He tilts his head to the other side, like he's still trying to make up his mind if he wants to leave or stay.

"If I were to stay, what would I do with you? You've thought about this before, haven't you, Crowley?" His tone is dark and playful, but the kind of playful that sounds more like someone about to play with their food before eating it.

Crowley moans again, grip tightening in Castiel's coat sleeve. This is entirely too much. It's beyond perfect and he can't bring himself to worry about how stupid it is when he's got the very creature he's spent years wanting to fuck exactly where he wants him, even if their roles are a bit reversed from what he's pictured.

"Of course I've thought about it. Mostly, it involved me fucking you." He sees no reason not to be honest in that. "I wanted to take you apart just to see what you were made of, buttercup."

He licks his lips. "Still do."

Castiel is welcome to take that as a threat or a promise for later, because if he leaves Crowley like this, Crowley will find him and he will fuck him senseless. Then again, maybe he'll do that, anyway.

That sounds unappealing, Castiel thinks, but maybe his body knows differently; there's a flutter of arousal that he quickly ignores because he does know, at least, that he doesn't want to let Crowley take him apart. If having sex with Crowley will have an unfortunate outcome, he's sure it would come from giving Crowley the upper hand. No, Castiel prefers the position he has now, holding Crowley right where he wants him, where a flick of his wrist can set him moaning again.

He gets the hint of an idea, which he turns into a reality when he pinches the inside of Crowley's thigh, high up and close to his groin.

"And what if I wanted to take you apart?" he says lowly, his voice rough, and he leans in closer, not close enough to kiss, but enough that Crowley's vision is slowly being narrowed down to only Castiel leaning over him.

"What would I see?"

Crowley shudders, whether from that pinch or Castiel's words he couldn't say. Castiel is entirely too good at this--not just the physical part, but the whole domineering thing. Crowley almost wonders if he hasn't been spying on Crowley's personal time the past few years.

"I think you'll find that taking a demon apart is a bit of a challenge, Cas."

The wavering in his voice probably doesn't help, though. Not many people could take Crowley apart, but Castiel is probably one of the few who could if he pushed the right buttons. He's already got Crowley hooked and it's only a matter of trial and error at this point.

Castiel hums, and while it's true that part of him is still unclear about what he's doing in a practical sense, he's finding that the rest of him is enjoying this situation. He likes having Crowley shudder underneath him, and he likes the waver in his voice. He's assuming it has everything to do with how much he would otherwise have liked to rip Crowley's heart out.

This is more fun, he thinks.

"I think you'll find that you consistently underestimate me." Their deal, then leaving him to die -- Crowley hasn't done a very good job of predicting Castiel's movements, though he did do a good job with the location of the tablet. Still, that's two out of three, and his odds aren't good here, either.

He starts undoing Crowley's pants, starting with the fly, but then he has to pull them off his hips, which requires letting go of his shoulder. Crowley could get up then, if he wanted, and try to take over the situation. Castiel lets go to tug his pants down, though his eyes are on Crowley's the whole time, waiting to see what he'll do, and if he'll stay still. If he'll stay still for him.

Crowley's eyes stay locked on Castiel's. He feels raw and exposed and trapped and he doesn't like it, save for the part of him that likes it quite a bit too much.

He should go. He should get himself out of this ridiculous and dangerous situation, but he's frozen there under Castiel, pliant and wanting.

When it comes to being undressed, he's neither a help nor a hindrance. Castiel is more than strong enough to move Crowley where he needs him and Crowley's a bit too preoccupied with panting harshly and grabbing at Castiel's coat.

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s9 future thing

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