[ Grady lets himself be tugged back into Cas' orbit without protest, his one-eyed gaze drifting down to the other man's mouth as he contemplates, as if from a distance, the irreversible thing they're about to do. Cas is only a little taller than he is and he doesn't mind that, it makes it harder to mistake him for someone else. Easier to make him anonymous.
Grady blinks slowly and reaches out to settle his hands on Cas' hips as he thinks about his answer, taking stock of the warm, living weight of him. Anonymous maybe and probably a mistake, but not just a dream, it would probably be a good idea to try to remember that. ]
No. [ He grates out the response, glancing back up to meet those depthless blue eyes, glittering with the light of the few candles in the room guttering down to puddles of useless wax. It's not a lie and he doesn't care what the other man thinks, to be given such freedom over someone else's body.
Lifting his hand, he brushes his thumb along the line of Cas' jaw, then settles his palm around the back of his neck. ]
[ Cas draws closer at that, holding that gaze. If he could still see souls, he wonders what he would see in Grady, and if he would despair over it, or if he's already grown too cold in the caverns of all the once was to still feel one human's aches, so insignificant to the universe that Castiel once was, and such a familiar, painful, insurmountable titan to that which Cas has become. ]
You hurt yourself worse than I'd ever dare.
[ His hands reach, one curling in the fabric of Grady's shirt right above his heartbeat, the other lets fingertips moved through the scrape of beard and upwards, tangling into Grady's hair. Cas doesn't tug. He's close enough that he thinks he almost sees the light beyond Grady's eye. Close enough that their lips almost touch. ]
I'm no one's salvation - but I'm not your punishment, either.
[ Cas can make him feel good for a while. Or less bad, at the very least.
He won't make him hurt. Not like that, at any rate. If Grady needs a regret, that's what Cas can be. If Grady needs a warm body, that's as much as Cas already is. But he won't be a barbed wire around anyone's neck. His cruelty is reserved for himself. ]
[ Grady huffs the words out against Cas' mouth, but there's not much feeling behind them, just saying them because it feels like the right thing to do when someone throws a dart straight into the bullseye of your grief.
That touch to his chest feels all too familiar and belies the other man's promise not to hurt him, reminding him too much of Wes' predilection to covering that place with his palm so he can feel the effect he has on Grady's pulse.
The pain of it rises up Grady's throat, threatening to choke him. Instead of letting it come, he leans forward and closes the tiny gap between them, meeting the other man's mouth with a hard, desperate vulnerability that he didn't anticipate as he grips handfuls of Cas' shirt like he needs to hold on to something or collapse. ]
[ He knows. That need to say cutting words even when you don't want to cut, the need to press that choking agony into the barely there space between someone else's lips. So he takes it, the despair and desperation, the sharp words that lack their edge. Lets Grady cling to him. Cas' hands drop, then, fingers curling into the fabric sitting on Grady's waist, and sliding around to the small of his back.
This, Cas can be. The acnhor to a drowning man.
He wishes he knew how to say it with words. Don't drown. Whoever you lost, they'll need you once they're back. Don't break harder than 7 days can put together again. The words fail him, but perhaps he can say it in a kiss.
Cas doesn't know everything there is to know about Grady and his pain, but he understands.
He can be the familiar taste of poison, tongue sliding against the seem of Grady's lips, promising a place to put all of that hard, desperate vulnerability, hips rolling forward to push the two of them flush against the wall.
Cas can hold Grady upright. Not salvation, perhaps, but absolution. ]
[ Cas doesn't taste familiar enough to be anything except a reminder of what they're doing and why, not something that Grady can lose himself in, but a cold hard edge that he can press against to see how much it hurts, whether he can survive it. It's better that way, probably, even if it makes it more difficult.
He lets himself be walked back until his shoulders bump against the wall, settling against it with a low noise as it gives him something to push back into, caught between it and the man kissing him. His one eye closed, he opens his mouth to encourage that contact to go deeper, his hands skating around Cas' hips and up under his shirt, seeking that warm skin and something he can drag his fingernails over. ]
[ Cas doesn't need to be told twice, nipping at Grady's bottom lip before sealing their mouths together once more and following that invitation into uncharted territory, turning the kiss heady with alcohol and sensual, desperate intent.
Under Cas' shirt Grady will find smooth skin, marred by the occasional scar. Too few for the sort of figure Cas poses, perhaps, but still there. And while Grady seeks that purchase for his fingernails, Cas charges ever forwards, strong thigh sliding between the other man's legs as Cas slots them together head to toe, hardly enough space left between them to breathe, to question, to think. ]
[ Grady doesn't mind this moving fast. It's the kind of thing he needs, something to obliterate the ache inside his chest, letting the desperate heat of their contact carry him away from anything else.
He groans against Cas' mouth when the other man moves forward into him, the hint of strength and confidence in Cas' movements suggesting the kinds of things he can get out of this encounter if he plays his cards right. Desire pools in liquid heat in the pit of his belly; he can feel himself getting hard as he flattens himself between Cas' leaning weight and the wall. He slides his palms over warm muscle that rises and falls under his touch, then comes back down and tugs up at the hem of Cas' shirt in a mute suggestion to start taking clothes off, right now. ]
[ Cas is good at reading people, even now that he can no longer actually see souls and read minds. But he's able to be what someone needs of him, and doesn't always actively rally against that.
Men, women... Cas can be hard, pliant, in charge, taken charge of. He doesn't mind. He doesn't care. As long as he feels connected to something, it doesn't matter what purpose they want him to serve for them. Doesn't matter if he's scratched and bruised, doesn't matter if he's emptied out. He'll take what he needs, and he'll let others have what they need of him too.
So Cas breaks the kiss, keeps his thigh firmly slotted between Grady's as he leans back just enough to pull his shirt over his head and drop it. When he leans back in, it's with his hands on Grady's waist, lightly trembling hands on his button and zipper, mouth finding a pulse and travelling along it with a hint of teeth. ]
[ Grady can't stop himself moving against that strong thigh between his legs, rocking against the other man like a teenager just learning what heavy petting means, his rocky demeanour stripped away as he becomes pathetic with desperate need. If Cas wants someone to appreciate being used, he's found a good match.
He palms the bare skin of Cas' back, digging his fingers into his hips and hisses out his breath when he feels teeth against the side of his neck. Usually he'd turn away from that kind of thing, too close to the life-ending scar that stretches across the front of his throat, but right now he wants that faint hint of pain, the reminder of the price he's already paid.
Fuck -- [ He growls out the curse, reaching up to the back of Cas's head to tug at his hair and hold him in place at the same time. ] Harder, c'mon. Make me feel it.
[ Cas moans, sound filthy where it's pressed against the skin of Grady's throat. He's never learned that human thing called shame, and sees no need in holding back sounds. It's not performative, though - he wouldn't know how to do that, a strange chord of innocence wrapped within all his sin and debauchery. No, he shares his pleasures.
And that hand grabbing his hair? Oh, that is doing something fierce for him. Cas' hips stutter on the push forwards, pressing desperately close.
This time, he bites down harder, right where neck meets shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to straddle just this side of pleasure to pain, and he pairs it by pushing a hand beetween Grady and the wall, grabbing his ass and pulling his hips forwards roughly to meet Cas' roll forwards, intending to light the man up. ]
[ The push and roll of Cas' hips and the insisting ache of those teeth pressing against him, the heat of Cas' mouth, is enough to make Grady groan and whine in the back of his throat, his own body responding as he grinds himself against the other man, rapidly losing his fragile grip on his inhibitions.
He drops both of his hands back down to Cas' hips, pushing down at the fabric that's still in the way, then slides his palm between them and down, clumsy and awkward as he works to shove his fingers into the front of Cas' pants, greedy and wanting more, wanting as much as he can get right now to dispel the icy cold pain in his core. ]
You -- god -- fuck me. [ The words trip and stumble off his lips as he rocks against Cas' leaning weight, against the back of his own hand. ] C'mon sweetheart.
[ The pet name nearly gets a struggle, but Grady's free to have it. Cas is no one's anything, least of all a sweetheart. But why burst thebubble of the moment. He buries a keening moan against the man's shoulder though, when a searching hand slides down the front of his pants.
Yes. Fuck, yes.
He holds Grady still with an arm against his chest for a moment, making sure to catch the man's eyes. ]
You got anything here? Lube, condoms?
[ That determines how far this goes, even as Cas busies himself dropping his pants and then doing the Sam to Grady's with rough, impatient tugs. He'll happily get them there rutting against the wall - but with the right tools he'll happily give and take some more. ]
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perfectantidote) wrote2020-10-07 03:45 am
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deerington
no subject
Grady blinks slowly and reaches out to settle his hands on Cas' hips as he thinks about his answer, taking stock of the warm, living weight of him. Anonymous maybe and probably a mistake, but not just a dream, it would probably be a good idea to try to remember that. ]
No. [ He grates out the response, glancing back up to meet those depthless blue eyes, glittering with the light of the few candles in the room guttering down to puddles of useless wax. It's not a lie and he doesn't care what the other man thinks, to be given such freedom over someone else's body.
Lifting his hand, he brushes his thumb along the line of Cas' jaw, then settles his palm around the back of his neck. ]
Make it hurt if you want.
no subject
You hurt yourself worse than I'd ever dare.
[ His hands reach, one curling in the fabric of Grady's shirt right above his heartbeat, the other lets fingertips moved through the scrape of beard and upwards, tangling into Grady's hair. Cas doesn't tug. He's close enough that he thinks he almost sees the light beyond Grady's eye. Close enough that their lips almost touch. ]
I'm no one's salvation - but I'm not your punishment, either.
[ Cas can make him feel good for a while. Or less bad, at the very least.
He won't make him hurt. Not like that, at any rate. If Grady needs a regret, that's what Cas can be. If Grady needs a warm body, that's as much as Cas already is. But he won't be a barbed wire around anyone's neck. His cruelty is reserved for himself. ]
no subject
[ Grady huffs the words out against Cas' mouth, but there's not much feeling behind them, just saying them because it feels like the right thing to do when someone throws a dart straight into the bullseye of your grief.
That touch to his chest feels all too familiar and belies the other man's promise not to hurt him, reminding him too much of Wes' predilection to covering that place with his palm so he can feel the effect he has on Grady's pulse.
The pain of it rises up Grady's throat, threatening to choke him. Instead of letting it come, he leans forward and closes the tiny gap between them, meeting the other man's mouth with a hard, desperate vulnerability that he didn't anticipate as he grips handfuls of Cas' shirt like he needs to hold on to something or collapse. ]
no subject
This, Cas can be. The acnhor to a drowning man.
He wishes he knew how to say it with words. Don't drown. Whoever you lost, they'll need you once they're back. Don't break harder than 7 days can put together again. The words fail him, but perhaps he can say it in a kiss.
Cas doesn't know everything there is to know about Grady and his pain, but he understands.
He can be the familiar taste of poison, tongue sliding against the seem of Grady's lips, promising a place to put all of that hard, desperate vulnerability, hips rolling forward to push the two of them flush against the wall.
Cas can hold Grady upright. Not salvation, perhaps, but absolution. ]
no subject
He lets himself be walked back until his shoulders bump against the wall, settling against it with a low noise as it gives him something to push back into, caught between it and the man kissing him. His one eye closed, he opens his mouth to encourage that contact to go deeper, his hands skating around Cas' hips and up under his shirt, seeking that warm skin and something he can drag his fingernails over. ]
no subject
Under Cas' shirt Grady will find smooth skin, marred by the occasional scar. Too few for the sort of figure Cas poses, perhaps, but still there. And while Grady seeks that purchase for his fingernails, Cas charges ever forwards, strong thigh sliding between the other man's legs as Cas slots them together head to toe, hardly enough space left between them to breathe, to question, to think. ]
no subject
He groans against Cas' mouth when the other man moves forward into him, the hint of strength and confidence in Cas' movements suggesting the kinds of things he can get out of this encounter if he plays his cards right. Desire pools in liquid heat in the pit of his belly; he can feel himself getting hard as he flattens himself between Cas' leaning weight and the wall. He slides his palms over warm muscle that rises and falls under his touch, then comes back down and tugs up at the hem of Cas' shirt in a mute suggestion to start taking clothes off, right now. ]
no subject
Men, women... Cas can be hard, pliant, in charge, taken charge of. He doesn't mind. He doesn't care. As long as he feels connected to something, it doesn't matter what purpose they want him to serve for them. Doesn't matter if he's scratched and bruised, doesn't matter if he's emptied out. He'll take what he needs, and he'll let others have what they need of him too.
So Cas breaks the kiss, keeps his thigh firmly slotted between Grady's as he leans back just enough to pull his shirt over his head and drop it. When he leans back in, it's with his hands on Grady's waist, lightly trembling hands on his button and zipper, mouth finding a pulse and travelling along it with a hint of teeth. ]
no subject
He palms the bare skin of Cas' back, digging his fingers into his hips and hisses out his breath when he feels teeth against the side of his neck. Usually he'd turn away from that kind of thing, too close to the life-ending scar that stretches across the front of his throat, but right now he wants that faint hint of pain, the reminder of the price he's already paid.
Fuck -- [ He growls out the curse, reaching up to the back of Cas's head to tug at his hair and hold him in place at the same time. ] Harder, c'mon. Make me feel it.
no subject
And that hand grabbing his hair? Oh, that is doing something fierce for him. Cas' hips stutter on the push forwards, pressing desperately close.
This time, he bites down harder, right where neck meets shoulder. Not hard enough to break skin, but hard enough to straddle just this side of pleasure to pain, and he pairs it by pushing a hand beetween Grady and the wall, grabbing his ass and pulling his hips forwards roughly to meet Cas' roll forwards, intending to light the man up. ]
no subject
He drops both of his hands back down to Cas' hips, pushing down at the fabric that's still in the way, then slides his palm between them and down, clumsy and awkward as he works to shove his fingers into the front of Cas' pants, greedy and wanting more, wanting as much as he can get right now to dispel the icy cold pain in his core. ]
You -- god -- fuck me. [ The words trip and stumble off his lips as he rocks against Cas' leaning weight, against the back of his own hand. ] C'mon sweetheart.
no subject
Yes. Fuck, yes.
He holds Grady still with an arm against his chest for a moment, making sure to catch the man's eyes. ]
You got anything here? Lube, condoms?
[ That determines how far this goes, even as Cas busies himself dropping his pants and then doing the Sam to Grady's with rough, impatient tugs. He'll happily get them there rutting against the wall - but with the right tools he'll happily give and take some more. ]