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Castiel told himself it was the last time.
Just like he had in the time before that.
And the one before that.
But he kept coming back and maybe it had something to do with the way his mind got overcome by a haze when the demon kissed him passionately, possessive fingers threaded in his hair, pulling Cas closer and closer until all he could do was moan.
It was undignified. That’s how his brothers and sisters would have described the situation, along with less kinder adjectives. And how would they describe Castiel, if they knew… If they knew their General let himself be held down beneath the King of Hell. If they knew what he let said King of Hell do when he had Castiel where he wanted?
He tried not to think about it. One of the good things about this relationship with Crowley was that was an easily acquirable wish as long when he was in Crowley's presence. Earlier, Cas had arrived to an empty house, though, and had distracted himself from dwelling on his self-doubts by going through Crowley’s collection of first editions. When the demon arrived an hour later, that’s how Crowley had found Cas, sitting on his leather couch, sipping Craig, with a book on his lap. Castiel had wondered for a split second if maybe he had made himself a little too at home when a hungry look took the place of the surprised one that had first covered Crowley’s face.
“Cas, has anyone told you your timing is impeccable?”
Someone had, in fact, said something along those lines to him once but Cas decided Crowley wouldn’t be happy to hear whom. He ignored the pang of hurt thinking about Dean Winchester brought and told himself nothing good could come from dwelling on him. Dean had his picture perfect life now and Castiel had no place in it, whether he had a war to fight in or not. Speaking of war, Crowley looked about as tired as Castiel felt, scruff covering his face and his normally immaculate suit full of wrinkles.
“I can’t promise I’ll be good company tonight, sweetheart.” Crowley said, blinking at the angel slowly, as he sank beside him on the couch.
Castiel tilted his head at the observation. “I don’t come expecting you to entertain me, Crowley.”
He stood up to get Crowley a drink and followed his suggestion to bring the bottle. That night, things went much slower than they usually did with them. Castiel was thankful the angels were too busy to call him away, making useless negotiations, through the temporary truce both sides had called so they could recover. About an hour later, Crowley had begun to unwind, his tie having been thrown carelessly to the side, and Castiel found himself pressed against the couch with a very enthusiastic King of Hell on top of him.
On the times following their first time together, Crowley had always been cool and controlled, taking pleasure in making Castiel come apart beneath him. That night, though, it was if his hands were caressing every part of Cas’ body all at once, lingering and greedy. His kisses travelled from Cas' lips, down his cheeks and neck where Crowley stopped to breath in his scent.
There was a lengthy pause in the proceedings where Cas contemplated that peharps what Crowley needed, more than anything, was a good night of sleep and he stroked the clothed demon's back about to make such a suggestion and propose they pick this up another time when Crowley snapped his fingers and relocated them to his bedroom. Castiel looked around feeling slightly bewildered at the sudden change of location, then moaned, surprised, at the feel of Crowley rocking against him.
There was nothing to protect him from the intensity of the feeling. Crowley had teleported them without their clothes and their skin seemed to be touching everywhere.
Never mind falling asleep then.
Crowley grabbed a handful of Cas’ hair and smashed their lips together, tilting his neck back against the pillows. Castiel held onto Crowley’s shoulders, digging his fingers in the beautiful and intricate design of the protective symbols tattooed there, the colors almost glowing in the dark. He wrapped his thighs around Crowley’s hips bringing him down, gridding up against him with pure needed. Wanting more. Needing more. Needing everything.
The demon gasped, ripping his mouth away. He pressed a firm hand on Cas’ naked chest, keeping him down, when he instinctively rose to follow. A pair of startled blue eyes locked on Crowley’s and he smirked down at the angel. He took his hand away and reached behind Cas’ back, pushing against the small of his back to raise him up. Castiel’s head snapped back at the feel of Crowley’s cock filling him. He tried to focus on the stumble scratching his neck as the demon laid bites there. His feet had no purchase against the silk sheets and it was like he was falling with nowhere to hold on. His legs locked once more around Crowley’s waist, as if by their own accord, and soon they fell in an erratic pace. Crowley’s relentless thrusts following the tempo of the “ah, ah, ah” sounds that escaped from Cas’ lips.
Castiel turned his face against the pillow, the cool fabric against his feverish skin giving him some relief. He felt like a string that had been pulled too tightly and the sweat that accumulated between them just served to make his skin feel even more hypersensitive. He didn’t think he would be able to handle much more of this. As if reading his thoughts, the rhythm of the hungry snap of Crowley’s hips slowed down abruptly and when the King of Hell raised one of the thighs locked around his waist, changing the angle to one that allowed him to go even deeper, Cas let out a hoarse sound he’d never admit producing.
Crowley stayed buried to the hilt and a hand closed around Castiel’s neck, bringing him abruptly back to reality. Cas’ own hands flew to Crowley’s forearm at the same time he felt his hips snap up at the demon that rested on top of him, as a new surge of arousal hit him. Crowley’s eyes, locked on Cas’ face, flashed red and he leaned over Castiel, until there was barely no space separating their lips.
“Shhh…just come.” He purred, squeezing the hand around Cas’ neck.
Those words might as well have caused Castiel’s brain to completely short circuit. Whatever was holding him back disappeared and his orgasm hit him brutally. He could belatedly feel that Crowley had resumed his thrusting, the husky moans he let out warning of his own impeding climax.
He was more vocal than Cas ever remembered him being and after it was over Crowley rested with his face hidden against Castiel’s neck, for a long moment. When he managed to pull himself together again, the demon laid a surprisingly gentle kiss on one the angel’s shoulders, before moving away. A comfortable silence followed. Castiel stared at the ceiling, blinking slowly, the only thought on his mind being about the ever curious feeling of Crowley’s come leaking from himself.
He wondered if he should feel disgusted, but the only thing Cas felt was strangely whole. His eyes were heavy and, despite the chilly temperature he was beginning to be aware of, Castiel was ready to give in to the rare desire to sleep when he was caught by his wrist and rather easily maneuvered beneath the blankets on Crowley’s much warmer side of the bed.He accommodated his head underneath Crowley’s chin and one his legs found a comfortable position between Crowley’s. Yes, he felt a lot more comfortable now.
Cas traced one of the symbols that had been tattooed on the skin over the demon’s heart and made a mental note to inquire about them. The steady rhythm in which Crowley’s chest rose beneath his cheek told him the King of Hell was well on his way to unconsciousness. As he let himself be held between sleep and wakefulness, marveling at Crowley’s desire to further intimacy after sex, Castiel recalled a time he'd just had Dean assigned as his charge, when he looked on the hunter laying with a stranger he’d met in a bar. Back then, Cas had been far too removed to realize that was a big breach of the human’s privacy and he recalled wondering how satisfying could be that almost mechanical joining that was almost over even before it begun.
Despite his complicated feelings about the matter, he hoped and prayed that his friend had found a measure of peace and perhaps a real connection. It had been months since the events of Stull Cemetery and Cas knew Dean still remained with the woman and the child he had pictured himself happy with. So that had to mean he was happy, didn’t it? Whether he remained only because of Sam’s last wishes, Castiel was afraid to find out.
“Shh…”
It was Crowley's voice even though Cas was sure he hadn't expressed any of his thoughts aloud. The angel relaxed in the hand that massaged his scalp and together with the warmth surrounding him, he soon was led to oblivion.
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The End.