[ Castiel knew full well how badly this could go, and yet not by his remotest imagination had he thought that it could go this way. He was trained for all kinds of tortures, meant to be able to resist anything, unbroken by pain or humiliation. Every possible avenue, he thought, had been covered. Castiel was unworried by blade or fire; he had been made that way from the ground up. Pain he could have dealt with. Pain was natural; a normal thing that warriors experienced all the time. The potential face of Death meeting them through the looking glass? It could come at any time, and there was nothing waiting for any of them beyond; no Heaven, no Hell.
So he was ready, lined up like the toy soldier he was. Ready for anything. Anything except this.
There was no denying it this time. When her fingers slipped deep into his feathers, he was made utterly helpless to the sensation. Castiel couldn't identify what the feeling was, wasn't able to connect what he had seen in others - in Dean, when he'd watched him quietly from the shadows - with what he was physically feeling all for himself. His body hummed with pleasure; the blood he didn't personally use spread, tingling, in directions that it wasn't meant to be traveling, and not for a moment was Castiel able to name it. And yet he moaned, low and agonized and desirous, sounding more like a wounded animal than a creature in the throes of pleasure. For a moment, he felt almost dizzy, and his knees tried to bend away from under him like rubber, putting more weight on the chains that strung his wings wide.
He didn't hear a word of Ruby's comment. It wasn't until she caught one of his feathers and pulled - and in that case only in the wake of the pleasure - that Castiel's mind swam back into focus. If you could call it that. He had to struggle to meet her eyes with his own. ]
Heaven...doesn't concern you, demon.
[ Clinging to his defiance, if only because he was sure his knowledge about Heaven's plans was the only thing keeping him alive; and then only just. ]
no subject
So he was ready, lined up like the toy soldier he was. Ready for anything. Anything except this.
There was no denying it this time. When her fingers slipped deep into his feathers, he was made utterly helpless to the sensation. Castiel couldn't identify what the feeling was, wasn't able to connect what he had seen in others - in Dean, when he'd watched him quietly from the shadows - with what he was physically feeling all for himself. His body hummed with pleasure; the blood he didn't personally use spread, tingling, in directions that it wasn't meant to be traveling, and not for a moment was Castiel able to name it. And yet he moaned, low and agonized and desirous, sounding more like a wounded animal than a creature in the throes of pleasure. For a moment, he felt almost dizzy, and his knees tried to bend away from under him like rubber, putting more weight on the chains that strung his wings wide.
He didn't hear a word of Ruby's comment. It wasn't until she caught one of his feathers and pulled - and in that case only in the wake of the pleasure - that Castiel's mind swam back into focus. If you could call it that. He had to struggle to meet her eyes with his own. ]
Heaven...doesn't concern you, demon.
[ Clinging to his defiance, if only because he was sure his knowledge about Heaven's plans was the only thing keeping him alive; and then only just. ]