whit merule

Ohhhh, late night smutlet prompt! Any chance you can maybe do a Sastiel with some sort of grace!kink sex?

Sam’s body is a wall, a shield against the dark and the unknown, and Castiel huddles beneath it, shivering with each caress of Sam’s big hands against his skin. The shards of his tattered grace reach out through his lips and fingertips, sucking greedily on the tarnished surface of Sam’s soul. They groan from the feel of it.

The physical is there, too – hot and hungry – but it’s this melding of their essences that keeps Castiel coming back. They discovered it by accident, early on when Sam’s body on his was all Castiel knew to crave. With Sam on top of him, Castiel had felt as though he were being crushed, and without meaning to he stretched out his grace as a counterweight. The contact against Sam’s soul made them both shudder and come without warning.  Exhausted, they’d curled together and marveled at the feel of it.

Now they’ve learned to control themselves a little better. But that first touch is still overwhelming. As Castiel’s grace brushes him, Sam arches, ecstasy overwhelming him. He pushes back, flexes muscles he didn’t know he had, and those intangible parts of them rub hot against each other, curl tantalizingly, mesh in hot waves of pleasure that go far beyond the physical. Sam cries out, burying his head in Castiel’s shoulder, his hips snapping forward. Castiel growls and rakes his hand through Sam’s hair. With every thrust, each slap and slide of bodies, their essences meld, angelic power and human beauty.

But it isn’t just the beautiful parts of Sam’s soul that Castiel touches. The flaws, the damage done to him in the Cage, mark him like brands. Castiel finds them beautiful, in their own way – signs of a life lived, of a hero forged in fire. When he touches them, the goodness of Sam floods him, and he’s redeemed, even for just a moment. And when Sam’s soul slides along the shredded edges of Castiel’s grace, it’s like being lifted toward heaven again.

Each touch thrills. The swell of physical lust enhances every sensation. Sam is huge inside him and around him, and Castiel can barely breathe for how badly he wants. He covers Sam’s face and neck with kisses. Each moment they’re clawing at each other, trying to ease their way closer and closer together, seeking that moment when they’re finally one. When it hits – after long moments of gasping and praying and yearning – grace and soul melt together entirely, and everything goes bright white.

Sam clings to him for minutes afterwards, whispering soft “oh” and “Cas” over and over. Castiel holds him fiercely, thrilling to the feel of Sam’s soul softening and receding within him. His grace is aglow, throbbing. He wills it to settle down, concentrating on the physical – Sam’s body limp on his, their bodies coated with a thin sheen of sweat, the chill in the air surrounding them. It helps him to find his rational mind again, and he breathes easier.

They’re both such damaged creatures, so imperfect, Castiel thinks. But they both try so hard. Perhaps that’s why they’ve found such fulfillment in each other. But the reasons hardly matter in the end. Sam is a lifeline, and Castiel will cling to it until the end. For now, he just holds on, unafraid for a few moments of whatever lurks out there in the dark.