Who: Samandriel & Castiel Winchester What: Castiel comes to visit Samandriel. Things get intimate and then they get awkward, but then they get fixed. When: 12/08 Where: Lucifer’s Rating: High. Standard Samandriel warnings. Status: Complete
The benefit of the relationship between the Morningstars (well, eventual Morningstars) and the Winchesters was that nobody seemed particularly surprised by anything. Their houses were essentially one and the same, which was why Samandriel wasn’t particularly startled when he found himself all stretched out on the couch in the living room and suddenly Castiel was just there. Lucifer had gone into the office at Lux (ostensibly to work, but Samandriel was pretty sure it was to firm up whatever engagement plans Samandriel was working very hard at not knowing about.) It was, honestly, a lovely Saturday afternoon, one in which Dean was also probably working.
So rarely, it seemed, did he and Castiel have any chance to spend time alone together, nor had they a chance to talk about the dreams that no longer were for Samandriel. He closed his book, reached for his phone and texted his boyfriend to let him know that Castiel was over before he turned his attention fully to his brother. “Hey,” he said, smiling almost dreamily up at him. Samandriel was easy, and the affection between him and this particular angel was even easier.
"Hello," Castiel greeted - for once, the elder angel was without his trench coat, dressed easily and casually in a t-shirt that was clearly not his own and a pair of well fitted jeans. He had a book hugged to his chest, like he'd been a little unsure about how welcome his company might be, and was prepared to entertain himself in other ways than visiting with Samandriel, if necessary.
"It's been a while," he said in further greeting and explanation both even as he seated himself in a chair across from where Samandriel was sprawled. The smile was returned with a small little thing, but that was just how Castiel was.
“You’re welcome to join me here,” Samandriel murmured. “Or in the basement. We just got everything all refitted and set up down there. I think you’ll like it.” The younger angel got up, wearing his usual lazy day choice of a loose pair of boxers and an equally baggy t-shirt. Some days, getting dressed was really too much effort, even if you could technically do it in a thought.
He offered Castiel his hand. “It’s good to see you.” And it was, it really, really was. There was something about this Castiel that brought so much more peace than his dreams of his brother did.
Castiel took the offered hand, allowing himself to be lead toward the basement; he hadn't been down there ever that he was aware of, but rather knew a lot about it. If it had been refitted and changed around though, he didn't see why he wouldn't like it.
"You as well," He replied, all kinds of honest and solemn even as they managed down the stairs (handholding was never great for spaces like these). "I have to admit preoccupation with my treehouse," he said, not at all sounding abashed over it. "It's been difficult to leave the space." Castiel? Loved his treehouse. A lot.
“You love your treehouse, I’m rather in love with my cave.” He flicked the dim blue lights on revealing the luxurious home theatre that Lucifer had approved and Samandriel spent far too little time actually putting together. The walls were now painted a rich black save for one that was completely white and served as a projecting surface for the bit of fancy tech mounted to the ceiling in the back. There were curtains on that wall, however, just in case the aspect ratio got weird, which happened sometimes.
The furniture was as plush and black as it was upstairs with comfy throw pillows (Samandriel loved throw pillows,) and blankets and the whole basement was basically made to be a giant cuddle pile. It, more than anywhere else in the house, showed Samandriel’s touches. This was a safe space, one for all of them as far as the angel was concerned. “It’s good for reading too, if you bring your own booklight or don’t mind the dark.” Not that angels really ever did mind the dark. It wasn’t much of an obstacle for them, but for their human (for now in Lucifer’s case) partners, well...it would be an issue.
"Why are you calling it a cave?" Castiel released Samandriel's hand only so that he could wander around the room, inspecting every little thing as if it was all a new experience for him. In a way, it was. But he could sense that it was very much designed with creature comforts in mind. Minus the reading lights, he supposed. Easily fixed with something portable.
It was nice though. The pillows and blankets were a nice touch, he thought. As if trying everything out, he seated himself on the couch and looked around from his new angle. "It's very nice," he complimented. "I think Gabriel would enjoy it immensely." It seemed like a place his brother would burrow into and then never leave.
“Because it’s dark and underground and I’d like very much to hibernate in it,” Samandriel said fondly. There were multiple couches down there, but that didn’t stop him from flopping next to his brother on one and resting his head on the other angel’s lap. “You feel at peace, you know. It’s nice when you’re like this.” Not that Castiel wasn’t often like this, but sometimes things just set him on edge and it was work to bring him back.
Castiel knew what Sam meant, wasn't offended by the implication that he was just as often in a state of distress as he wasn't, or that he was intensely difficult to deal with when that was the case. He only nodded, and balanced his book against the armrest of the couch (making a mental note to not see it lost, like his one from Thanksgiving). "I have been very happy lately," he agreed with a tiny tilt of a smile.
Content enough with the explanation given over word choice, he threaded his fingers through Samandriel's hair and glanced up at the projector on the ceiling. "You seem closer to it, yourself."
“It helps,” he said softly, eyes closing as he relaxed with those fingers in his hair. “When there is an end to dreaming.” He felt almost boneless on the couch there with Castiel. This was something they never could have had there. Even before the Winchesters, it wouldn’t have happened in heaven. That it happened here just made Samandriel even more glad for the lives they were able to lead together in this world.
"I can only imagine," Castiel murmured thoughtfully. That Samandriel didn't seem concerned about that -- more pleased than anything else -- lead Castiel to thinking perhaps Samandriel's story ended well. Or perhaps by being an angel completely, he was able to circumvent the dreams by just not sleeping anymore. Cas frowned slightly at that thought, leaning a little further back into the couch. He couldn't even picture the day when he no longer had to sleep. The very thought of it made him a little melancholy.
"How have you been occupying your time, otherwise?" Castiel didn't bother with small talk ever if he could help it, so when he asked, it meant he was genuinely curious.
Samandriel’s eyes stayed closed while he continued to relax into Castiel’s touches. “Homework, music, the usual,” he murmured. “I’ve been making some new friends and that’s nice. It’s good to start...to start to feel like myself again.”
Cas was pretty sure he got that. Or at least could understand why it would be a good, important thing. The dreams were a difficult enough subject, but that they all - Samandriel in particular - had something else on top of that that marred their lives distinctly was not something easy to get past.
He nodded, tilting his lips into something close to a smile. "Good," he said, sounding approving. "You have a birthday coming up." Not really a question so much as an observation.
Samandriel opened his eyes to look up at his brother in the dim light. “There was a brief moment,” he said softly, “when I was utterly convinced that I’d lose my allure to him after I turned eighteen. That because I wasn’t forbidden anymore, he wouldn’t want me.” He looked down at his own hands. “Of course, then I realized that was absolutely stupid of me to think since we’ve been living together almost as long as we’ve known each other and my age has only been a barrier to us going out and doing things and not at all an issue when it came to our lives together in any other way.”
The young angel turned his gaze back to Castiel. “How long after you met Dean did you know, just know that he was it? That there wasn’t going to be anyone else really?” Dean and Castiel weren’t a normal relationship by any means, but they were the only model for something close to decent that he’d ever had. When it came to his own, he had nothing to try to hold it up against, no prior experience dating to figure out how to navigate rough waters or any kind of example growing up of people who loved each other instead of just barely tolerated the other one’s existence. He was, pardon the phrase, winging it every single day. He just hoped he’d prove Lucifer right in all the patience he was being afforded.
It was a stupid thing to think. Castiel was only glad that Samandriel said so himself so that he wouldn't have to point it out as such. While generally Cas didn't see a problem with pointing out obvious fact and stupid questions, it seemed a little beyond rude when doing it to his younger brother.
The elder angel gave a half sniff, thoughtful over the question. "Less than a week," he said finally. There'd never been an exact moment, but he knew it was somewhere between his and Dean's first and third meetings. Probably first for Dean, but Castiel had been somewhat reserved, if only because associating with anyone at the time had been unnatural. "We married not three weeks into knowing each other. Probably, that is not typical of most relationships. But I do know there'd never be anyone else." He gave a little pause, glancing down at his brother. "Do you feel similarly?"
“With all my heart,” Samandriel said softly. “It’s just...sometimes it feels like when I go back to school in January, people are going to know. I’m pretty sure it’s one of those things that’s just going to be noteworthy because not only have I been gone for the past three months, but there was the manner of my leaving and then returning engaged to someone who is a pretty big name and…”
He sighed softly, “I’m waiting for people to start telling me that I’m young, that I shouldn’t be making these kinds of decisions even though I know I would have given him forever the night I ran to his house in a blind panic and he just let me in. Because I mean...I’m not young, not really, but even if I were the age I am, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it any less storybook this is the man I am supposed to be with for the rest of my life, however long that is and just because you haven’t found that or don’t believe it doesn’t mean you have the right to try to talk me out of this.” Idly, he played with Castiel’s fingers. “And...and I’m still quietly worried about what my mother’s going to say when she finds out. Something awful, I’m sure and it shouldn’t matter because she doesn’t control me and especially won’t after my birthday, but still.”
Staring down at their fingers, not quite intertwined - not since Samandriel was idly playing with them - Castiel let all those words just sink in for a moment. It was a lot, actually, and he could only assume these were things that Sam had been worrying on for a decent amount of time now. Which made sense really, since they were all legitimate enough concerns.
Still, he wasn't much of a conversationalist as much as he was a listener, and so Castiel cleared his throat slightly, buying himself just that little extra amount of time to put some words together. "You shouldn't concern yourself with what others think, not when it comes to something that makes you happy. Particularly those who have proven themselves fickle in their affections." He tilted his head to the side a little, lips going down in a half pout. "I realize that is something easier said than done in the case of parents, though."
“I’m just waiting for her to tell me that I’m either only marrying him to piss her off or hoping he dies soon or so that I don’t have to work and can keep on playing music like that’s going to get me anywhere.” Samandriel sighed heavily. “Did you know when we were over for Thanksgiving, she was drunk and cornered me in the kitchen while my remarkably sober father was trying to make friends with someone who was clearly important to me and told me she hoped I was happy with rich, wrinkled old man dick.”
He kept his gaze on Castiel’s hands, still playing with them. “The man’s not even fifty. He’s barely older than she is. I really don’t feel like she has any room to judge here.” Samandriel kissed the other angel’s knuckles. “But my dad seemed to get on with him well enough, or tried, and Julia…” Samandriel smiled softly to himself. “She was just the right amount of protective and interested in what Lucifer was saying. I’ve never seen her so charmed.”
Completely unsure of what to say about such awful things, Castiel only squinted a little and tilted his head to the side, lips pressed thinly together. Was there anyone he closely associated with that had a normal, happy family life? Apparently not, considering.
"I'm sorry," he said finally, for lack of anything better. "But at least your father tried. And Julia. Whose opinion should probably matter more?"
“Definitely,” he said, nose brushing against Castiel’s knuckles now, and then his lips again. “Love you,” he murmured, lips finding the inside of Castiel’s wrist, the barest grazing of teeth. “Don’t forget that, okay. No matter what, I do love you.” It was all he could bring himself to say in advance of the things Castiel would dream. One day, his brother would remember killing him, and he needed the other angel to know going in that Samandriel was okay. He survived so much better in this life.
"Okay," Cas said, brushing fingers over Samandriel's cheek and trying his hardest not to feel a little lost about those words, and why they might even need be said. He couldn't picture a day where either of their behaviors might change their feelings, not really. Samandriel, Castiel knew, understood him better than most: loved him despite the fact that there was always someone before him. Probably because the same could be said for Samandriel.
They worked in an easy way. Castiel liked to think things might not change. "You as well," he said, not at all hesitant about that.
The younger angel closed his eyes and tilted his face into Castiel’s hand. He allowed the comfort and the quiet to sit there for a long moment washing over the both of them. Then, he got up and straddled Castiel, kissing him slow and deep, not caring at all that he’d not warned the other angel it was happening. Really, it was probably a given at this point that if they were together, something was going to happen. “I needed to do that,” he whispered as the kiss broke, staying close enough to taste Castiel’s lips on the air between them and run his fingers through his dark hair.
"I see," Castiel responded, tilting his head up just a little so that their lips brushed together when he spoke. Carefully, he settled his hands on Samandriel's waist, thumbs brushing against hip bones. It wasn't a shock that they'd ended up here, of course. No surprise at all. While Castiel didn't generally visit with this purpose in mind, he knew it was always a possibility -- enough where (very) slight permission was still asked for in text before he came over.
Since it had been needed, Castiel saw no reason not to offer another kiss.
Samandriel accepted that kiss, lips meeting the other angel’s oh so gently, like he was being offered something phenomenally precious and he didn’t want to ruin it. The care and feeling between the two of them was something wholly different to what he experienced with Lucifer or anyone else who grabbed his attention. Maybe it was different because of the dreams, because of the way Castiel had asked him ‘will you fight with me?’ instead of shoving a sword in his hand and telling him to do so, telling him that his other half was wrong and evil as were those like him. How Samandriel hadn’t ended up amongst the fallen the first time, he had no idea. Still, it’d enabled this to happen and he wasn’t going to regret it.
Where Lucifer’s kisses were life and light for Samandriel, there was something about Castiel’s that spoke to the delicate terror that was choice.
Castiel never rushed kisses with Samandriel, not really. He never rushed anything with the younger man. Intimacy with him was sweet and easy, tremendously affectionate. Very different than what he had with Dean (not that he couldn't have all of those things with Dean too, of course) - not better than or worse. Just different.
Needing to breathe, Cas pulled away a little, nuzzled his nose against Samandriel's jawline and let out a tiny little sigh of contentment.
Samandriel tipped his head to the side, allowing Castiel more exploration if he wished. Comfortably, he settled into the older angel’s lap. Exploration, Samandriel decided, that was what Castiel was in his own way, what this always seemed to feel like at the heart of it. He was glad that he could be fully present in the moment with his brother this time instead of needing comfort for some grief he couldn’t properly name to him.
“I’m glad that there’s an us,” he whispered, shoulder dropping to expose more of the lines of his neck through his worn, baggy shirt, one that never had fit him and might well have been Lucifer’s if Lucifer were prone to living in a world of sentimentally keeping old shirts and letting his twinky angel boyfriend wear them.
"Why wouldn't there be?" Castiel asked, taking the space that was offered to him, and nuzzling his forehead slightly against the curve of Samandriel's neck before kissing at the skin there instead. His question was nearly innocent, like he just couldn't imagine a world anymore where things weren't exactly as they were now.
“Because an infinite number of things could have gone differently, but instead here we are and I’m glad for it.” His fingers slid into Castiel’s dark hair, keeping him there to encourage those little kisses with soft moans and a roll of his hips. “And I don’t like the idea of a life where you and I don’t get this, or where I have to give you up.” Undoubtedly, there was a world in which Lucifer actually made him choose and like Castiel’s choice was a nobrainer, so was Samandriel’s. There was probably also an equally wrong universe where they’d chosen each other, but Samandriel didn’t like to think about that either. “You feel right and forever in your own way too.”
It was strange to think about how true those words were -- and Castiel supposed that they might know it better than most. Angels could see any number of things, those with enough power could travel through time. It was nearly a given that any decision could create hundreds of different outcomes. That they dreamt of other lives was telling, as well.
But it was. They were. Dean and Castiel were, and Samandriel and Lucifer, too. And it was just how things went. Still, Castiel smiled, nipped and then licked at the skin of Samandriel's jaw to soothe again. "Yes," he agreed, laconic as ever. "me too."
“Castiel,” Samandriel sighed, and it was clear that he’d decided that Lucifer’s pronunciation of his brother’s name was the most appropriate, or at least the most appealing. But Samandriel and Lucifer hadn’t really properly christened the basement yet, so the young angel took them both where sex (or at least more making out) was definitely going to be okay: the guest room. A rushing of wings and he had his brother on his back on the far too expensive mattress and sheets. “Want,” he murmured, hips rolling as he tried to get more of those teeth out of the other angel.
More teeth were easily given, tiny bites that were closer to gentle nibbles than anything else, even while Cas response to the rolling hips with the same gesture. He was easy like this -- would give whatever was asked of him, would always be as enthusiastic as the situation called for. Castiel liked to think that as late as he'd been to this, he was a fast learner and was more than good at it now.
"Of course," he agreed, wriggling slightly to adjust his position after the rooms had changed -- to slips his fingers underneath Samandriel's too-large shirt and pull it up.
Samandriel ducked out of his shirt and tossed it aside, his own fingers slipping under Castiel’s borrowed shirt (like his brother had even known Van Halen was a band before Dean walked into his life,) to push that off as well. He sat up to straddle the other angel, loose boxers bunching while he rolled his hips again. “I want us to drive each other to desperation before either one of us even lays a hand on the other’s cock,” he said, taking a page out of Lucifer’s book. The waiting could be fun for both of them, but Samandriel was certain that Castiel’s patience was much better than his own. “Want you to need to be in me as bad as I need you there.” He met Castiel’s eyes, blue on blue and added breathily, “can we undo each other like that, Castiel?”
Castiel (who still didn't know Van Halen was a band), smiled a tiny sort of smile - more eyes than mouth - and seemed generally interested in what was being suggested. He liked the foreplay of touching, tasting, and sometimes even talking (so much as he wasn't the one who had to be constantly doing it) and so dipped his head down into a nod.
"Easily," he murmured, already playing a sure but soft touch of fingertips along the younger angel's side.
“Good,” Samandriel said, leaning forward to speak against Castiel’s lips, not quite kissing and not allowing a kiss to actually happen. “Because you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, one hand braced between Cas’ arm and his side as he skimmed his fingers down the other angel’s chest. “And I really feel like that needs to be appreciated properly.” All the parts of Castiel that Samandriel could see that near no one else could, the Grace hiding behind a vessel that sometimes Samandriel himself didn’t even see.
It was one of those things that was growing more and more difficult to manage, seeing people’s physical forms instead of their souls. He had to work to be able to tell you what color someone’s eyes were, or their hair or the way their faces shifted with the play of emotion as opposed to simply what their energy did. The unique structure of the human soul was beautiful no matter what body it was in, and for now, Castiel had the benefit of both soul and Grace to be something completely stunning to Samandriel as he watched them existing together in his brother. Both equally Castiel, but both so very different. It almost made him look forward to the day that Lucifer started dreaming. His boyfriend would be breathtaking, but at the same time, Samandriel wanted to protect him from whatever his dreams might bring.
“I wish other people could see the world like I do,” he murmured, lips ghosting along Castiel’s jaw. “Could look at you and see your light, all the way down to the very heart of you and…” His mouth moved to Castiel’s ear, “selfishly I don’t want anyone else to see you like that ever.” Or Lucifer or Dean, but with Gabriel and Castiel in the picture, that was inevitable.
Dipping his eyes closed, Cas only dragged in a shaky little breath through his nose, tilted his head until he was pressing his cheek against Samandriel's and then nuzzling closer, brushing it against the curve of his jaw, his neck.
Idly, his hands worked their way across skin - a featherlight touch against hipbones just barely covered by boxers, the curve of an inner thigh. Castiel didn't think it was cheating at all to untuck his wings and allow them to brush across them both, barely there at all.
"I think you see better things than even most angels," he murmured, completely and utterly unsure of what to do with such a compliment, even if it was glowing and he rather enjoyed it. "Perhaps no one else will see me like that."
Samandriel arched with those wings, stretching his own out to brush against Castiel’s. For now, it was a game that they could only play at with each other. “It’s because somehow I managed to hold on to hope, and the desire to see good in things when so much of heaven’s just gotten angry and bitter.” He shifted his hips up to undo Cas’ jeans and push them down, leaving his boxerbriefs exactly where they belonged. It only made sense that they were equal in the being bare for each other department.
He bowed his head and kissed down Cas’ chest, teasing occasionally with blunt-edged teeth as he mapped his brother’s body. He pressed a lingering kiss right at the center of his chest and then pressed his forehead just there. Samandriel might have thought that too much heart was always Castiel’s problem, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to acknowledge that heart as a good thing. “Maybe that’s why…” He shook his head and decided not to continue that line of thought. Instead, he traced his fingers along the contours of muscle of his brother’s sides and kept moving further down his body.
Unfinished sentences always made Castiel curious and slightly unsettled and even now he couldn't help but prompt for the thought to be completed. "That's why...?" He asked, fingertips brushing over Samandriel's cheeks and over his temples before petting through hair and against the back of his neck.
He tilted himself back enough to be able to maneuver in for more kissing - offering a slight amount of bite in return. Castiel wondered if it was bad that only the angel of imagination had been able to manage holding onto hope and good things when no others had.
Confronted with Castiel right here and with all the memories of what had happened to him in that other life, Samandriel couldn’t keep it entirely quiet. “Maybe that’s why I’m okay with being a hollow vessel and ashen wings in that other life.” Cas could know he died and he didn’t need to know who killed him. It was a death that nobody would rejoice in, except for himself and Lucifer and that was only because at least it was over.
He kissed Castiel slowly, shifted his weight to allow Castiel to take over if he liked. Some part of him had been worried about being with his brother like this for the first time after he finished dreaming. He was glad that they were still themselves, still each other’s in their own way. Having nothing to worry about was much better than the alternative.
The response made Castiel a little sad, made him sorry that he'd felt the need to pressure and ask and know only because he couldn't help himself or things left incomplete. At some point in those dreams he would be down a brother, and the warning of it didn't quite seem enough.
It didn't seem fair to ask the how and whys currently, and so Castiel did take that bit of control he was offered - kisses a little more firm, and his sorry not vocalized, but given nonetheless.
That sorry wasn’t vocalized, but Samandriel could feel it in the same way he felt too much of everything. He hadn’t mourned himself before this, hadn’t ever thought it was right to, but now he couldn’t help it. Tears tracked slowly down his face. Samandriel shifted to his side, dragging Cas with him so that they could face each other properly.
Cas curled closer, offering a tiny tilt of his lips. "You're here, brother," he murmured, pressing forward a little more to kiss away those tears, retrace the trail of them with the tip of his tongue. "That matters more than any dream." He was still sorry, would always be sorry, but this was something and it was good.
Samandriel kept his eyes closed as he leaned into that touch, odd as it was, but it made sense in the way that Castiel was sometimes just very bad at doing anything normal in either life. He stole another kiss so long as his brother was there. “It’s hard not to hurt when you’re feeling so much at me,” he whispered. “I wasn’t upset and you...you have nothing to be sorry about. Naomi killed me. It’s...expected in the situation.”
Long fingers ran down Castiel’s chest, touching gently where he could reach. In another world, it might have been this angel he was begging to marry him on a regular basis, whispering words of please, forever against his lips nightly. He was okay with the idea of that world, no matter that he didn’t particularly want to be in it himself. His failing was much the same as Castiel’s. Too much heart. Too much love in him to manage. The mood between them had shifted too much. Gone was any chance they had at teasing each other into desperation. Now, it felt like all they both really needed to do was be close. His hand slipped into Castiel’s underwear, curling around the length of him to stroke ever so slowly. “Let me do this for you,” he whispered.
But Castiel didn't know who Naomi was, and so found himself only confused. Still, it was warning enough, Samandriel’s words - he was feeling too much and it was ruining things. That seemed to be a problem of Castiel's, as strange as that felt like it ought to be. He resolved to clear his head of things that were not here and now.
It was easier than it should have been -- but then, the help of fingers gripping his erection helped tremendously. "Yes," he agreed, although he had not been asked a yes or no question, he was still answering in terms of permissions. Just another thing that he did differently than most. He took another kiss because he'd be the first to admit he liked kisses more than most anything else.
Samandriel stroked him slowly, allowing Cas all the kisses he wanted. This was okay. It wasn’t what he’d been hoping for initially, but this was what was and he would accept it as he accepted most everything else. “I love you,” he whispered against the other angel’s mouth. “For all that there is in the world to question or doubt, that shouldn’t ever be in question.” He kissed along Castiel’s jaw, nibbling a bit before he got to his neck. For all the marks there that belonged to Dean in various stages of fading, Samandriel couldn’t help but want one of his own. If Cas didn’t like it, Samandriel would heal it. For now, however, this was an opportunity not often afforded him and he found a place away from Dean’s claims lower down to bite and suck one up himself. What had started out as slow and languid, turned into silent appreciation, was rapidly turning into something atypical of what they usually did together. The younger man couldn’t find room in his mind to complain about it one bit.
"I wouldn't ever think otherwise," Castiel murmured, tilting his hips into Samandriel's curved fingers, prompting more pressure, more in general. The same way that he tilted his head back to give the younger man a little more room to work, to leave a mark that wouldn't bother him in the least, but might leave Dean bemused.
His fingers dug sharply, wanting, into Samandriel's hip bones, thumbs curving over the cut of them, pushing down the cotton material there. "There is no reason to question this," he went on, tone barely there with his own distraction. But he wanted to say it - wanted it to be known this Samandriel's love was not questioned. That his own did not falter. He couldn't ever imagine a time when that wouldn't be the case, the same as he couldn't ever imagine a world without Dean.
Samandriel wiggled out of his loose boxers, almost feeling like the press of blunt teeth against Castiel’s throat was some kind of reward. He let go of Cas’ cock only to push down his underwear, wanting to feel the heat of their bodies together. “Fuck me,” he whispered, knowing that Cas would understand that he was referring to a very specific kind of sex and not just being vulgar for the sake of being vulgar. Another nip at his mark and he pulled back to look Castiel in the eye.
Castiel looked right back, like he always did -- eye contact solid and unrelenting even as he scooted himself up so that he could readjust his positioning. He stripped himself of his boxer briefs and then easily straddled the younger angel, rolling his hips against Sam's almost carelessly before smiling a tiny, but self assured curve of the lips.
"That's what you want," he said, not asking so much as acquiescing. Fucking. It was harsher, more crude. There was a point to it. In any case, it wasn't something that bothered him anymore, not when he knew the difference, and heard things like that from Dean frequently. "Where is--?" Cas never seemed to care about finishing sentences so long as he knew his meaning would be gotten from the first few words. He broke the eye contact to look around for lubricant.
Samandriel stretched for the nightstand drawer and ultimately couldn’t reach without moving more away from Castiel. Moving away from Castiel was the worst of options. “There,” he said, rolling back up against Castiel. This was new with his brother, but he was sure he was going to enjoy it. Surer that perhaps this kind of intensity was what he needed instead of something that lent itself to more introspective tender feelings. His hand found the other angel’s cock again, stroking firm and sure while he kissed whatever skin he could reach.
Intense was something that Castiel did well -- it was nearly one of his defaults, really. He came across as something less, he was sure, because he was so often reserved and quiet. But really, anyone who got to know him well enough knew that wasn't always the case. Anyone who knew him from the dreams would never assume anything otherwise.
He gave a little sniff in response, leaning over and past the younger angel in order to get what he wanted, and wasn't averse even after he'd retrieved the little bottle from tilting his hips forward into Samandriel's hands a little more, fucking in order to achieve a little more pressure. He backed off just as quickly though, scooting himself backward and handing off the lube to Sam, silent communication to let him prep himself.
Prepping himself was something Samandriel had gotten awfully good at in the past few months. He lifted his hips, fingers all slick and made nothing less of a show of himself for Castiel. His gaze stayed on the other angel, lips slightly parted so that breathless moans and whimpers of the other angel’s name could escape more easily. “From behind?” he asked once he managed three fingers inside himself and he was pretty sure he was going to burst for wanting if he didn’t get Cas in him soon.
"Yes," Castiel agreed, head tilted slightly to the side as he watched Samandriel move, completely unsubtle about the fact that he was touching himself as he did so. From behind wasn't necessarily his favorite position - he liked eye contact entirely too much for that. But that was sort of the point, he imagined. Eye contact made things personal, more touching. Less fucking.
Intense or otherwise, Castiel liked giving people what they wanted and asked for. What they needed.
Which was why he slicked himself, and really didn't wait longer than the amount of time it took for Sam to turn over onto his hands and knees to line himself up properly and then sink into the other angel, nearly rough.
From behind wasn’t really Samandriel’s favourite either, but Cas seemed to understand the way Castiel always understood. He moaned loudly as his brother practically took what was being offered to him. His fingers curled tightly into the sheets as he dropped down onto his forearms, wings spreading wider for a moment before he pulled them back in. “Castiel!” Yes, this was definitely more of what he needed from this angel. How he hadn’t realized that before, he didn’t know, but he was glad he did now.
"Yes," Castiel agreed again, even though that was probably not at all the proper response. Then again, he wasn't sure there was a proper response here to actually give -- and even if there was, the brunet angel was much better at offering actions than he was words.
And his actions were sharp thrusts -- all speed and pressure and no real rhythm, fingers that dug into the curve of a hip and the base of a wing. Sometimes he needed this too -- it was wholly different than what he had with Dean, just like it always was with Samandriel, no matter what the level of intensity.
The younger angel was anything but quiet as Castiel thrust into him, used his wing as a counter-balance and and fuck. Both wings shifted, using their strength to push him back against his brother in a way most couldn’t manage from the position he was in. “Please,” he gasped once he realized he could still make proper words and not just loud noises of enthusiastic approval. “Please, please Castiel. Fuck…” If bruising were still an option for him, he knew there’d be dark marks at his hip where the other angel was grabbing him, all that delicious pressure to go with the snapping of the elder angel’s hips.
"Tell me," Castiel said, leaning down just enough to nuzzle at the base of Samandriel's wings even as his thrust in ever harder - just as deep as he'd go and paused there for a short second just to stay himself slightly. There was nothing delicate about his nuzzling, his cheek nearly rough at the little feathers and bones.
There was some irony in Castiel telling someone else to speak, of course, but that, he thought, was neither here nor there at the moment.
“You feel so good,” Samandriel gasped, loving the tug of stubble against skin and feather. His hand moved between his legs, stroking himself in an approximation of whatever Castiel’s near rhythm was. “More,” he said, finally answering the question. “More. Want...want to feel you fill me up. Want...fuck.”
"Okay," Cas murmured even as he pulled Samandriel's hand away only to replace it with his own, his hips not even stuttering out of their non-rhythm as he did so. He wasn't necessarily sure how to give more of himself beside this -- beside more of the same. So that's what he did.
Despite the fact that he generally refused to speak with any vulgarity (it didn't suit him, he couldn't make it alluring or sexy in the way that Dean could, in the way that Samandriel currently was), he thought maybe the sweat pooling in the small of his back, the slip and slide of his stomach against Samandriel, was good enough.
That. Fuck. Samandriel wasn’t sure why he’d waited so long to ask for this from Castiel, but it was perfect. He clenched the sheets, barely had time enough to get out the first part of Castiel’s name in near warning as he came, crying out loudly. The tremble that rushed through him with it found its way all the way to the very tips of his wings.
The warning wasn't really needed -- it was obvious when Samandriel came, tight and quaking around Castiel enough where he couldn't have held out through it even if he'd tried. So he followed, and even that was a little rough -- his teeth sinking into the curve of the younger angel's shoulder and hips not quite stopping so much as working slowly to an end. A rather messy one, but Castiel was more than aware Samandriel was good with messes. Even if he wasn't, it seemed worth it.
Not even angelic strength could hold them both up after that. Still trembling ever so slightly from the force of...of everything, of his own orgasm, of Castiel’s, of this absolutely amazing, wonderful everything that not even Castiel knew the half of yet, Samandriel fell forward onto his stomach. He looked over his shoulder and smiled almost drunkenly content at his brother. “All sides of you,” he whispered, and knew that Castiel would somehow understand.
He did. Castiel always seemed to understand things like these, and he only detached himself from the younger man in order to curl up closer to him, eyelids dipping down until his eyes were nearly closed, but not quite.
"As you like," he returned the sentiment in a half mumble even as he ran a soothing palm over the curve of Samandriel's hip.
In answer to that, Samandriel turned around in Castiel’s arms to cuddle against his chest. He didn’t require sleep, but as with Lucifer, sometimes it was just a nice little luxury for him to indulge in. Even angels needed to dream.