Jul 052014
 

[<- The Dead Man’s Game ->]

Title: The Dead Man’s Game: Cake and Sodomy
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Sam Winchester , Kafziel (OC) , Gabriel
Rating: E  (L3 N4 S4 V0 D0)
Warnings: Expletives, blasphemy, crackomatic crackfic of crack, we put the fun in dysfunctional, the internet is for porn
Notes: I’m not even going to apologise for this chapter title. It’s got Twinkies and buttsex. It’s even more appropriate, if you can name the cities of the plain that Gabriel’s credited with destroying. And what the sins of those cities actually involved. I’m just so damn sad I didn’t manage to squeeze in any jokes about Gabriel’s hundred and forty pairs of wings. Yes, pairs.


It wasn’t that Sam didn’t appreciate the aesthetics of Kafziel’s vessel — the long expanses of dark skin curving over toned muscle, fluid strands of text tattooed in deep blue rippling with every movement — but he really could have gone his entire life without unexpectedly walking in on two angels having sex. The long, hissing stage whisper that curled out of Gabriel’s mouth would probably have set Sam’s ear on fire, if he were paying enough attention to translate it back from … actually, that might not have been Enochian, maybe it was Arabic, and Sam was totally ok with it being Arabic, since there was absolutely no chance his mind would spontaneously translate it while he was trying to do something else. Like Kafziel had said, Enochian was a system language, not a language intended for erotic poetry, however much it might be so misused by some extraordinarily talented individuals.

And then Gabriel’s attention shifted. "Samsquatch? Shut the door; I feel a draft. Tell me you brought me more twinkies. That is the only thing that could possibly improve this moment."

"Yeah, Gabe. I, uh… Do you …" Sam sputtered, looking at anything other than the angels on the bed, as he stepped into the room and nudged the door shut with his heel. "Should I …"

"Well, I can’t reach through the fire. Toss me a box and put the rest on the desk." Gabriel’s eyes crossed as Kafziel’s forehead came to rest on his shoulder. "Are you laughing? You’re laughing." He gasped and the fingers of one hand dug into Kafziel’s side. "That’s fine! Keep laughing!"

Sam fumbled with the bag, finally extracting one box and setting the rest on the desk.

"Aw, poor Sammy-boy, so uncomfortable with sex he’s not having. We can fix that, you know." Gabriel’s grin was predatory.

"He wouldn’t survive it, Jibril." Kafziel lifted himself to look down at the grinning archangel under him.

"Of course he would. Whose vessel is that? He’s designed for it." Gabriel never stopped grinning. "I could have two monstrously large gentlemen feeding me cakes and satisfying my desires. And I wouldn’t have to expend my own power to get it!"

"I always figured you were more for the ladies, Gabe." Sam tossed the box of twinkies onto the bed.

"I’m an equal-opportunity paramour. I engage in all the delights mankind has to offer." He tore into the box of twinkies, one-handed and opened one with his teeth. "Particularly the sugared ones. I am starting to feel a little more like myself. Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem." Sam was still trying his best to look elsewhere, but Gabriel’s grin kept catching the corner of his eye. "I’m just gonna—"

Kafziel rolled his hips and Gabriel nearly choked, mangling about half a sentence of what Sam though might be Old Norse around a mouthful of twinkie.

And that was it, for Sam. "Beer. It’s beer time. Find me when you’re done!"

"You seem so worried about your virgin ass," Gabriel called after him. "Don’t worry, I can be gentle!"

"My ass and virgin do not even belong in the same sentence," Sam shot back, slamming the door, behind him.

"He’s really not kidding, from what Castiel tells me."

Gabriel tried to sit up and smacked his head against Kafziel’s. "He’s doing Cas? Is everyone doing Cas, except me?"

"He’s not doing Castiel. Our brother is just a voyeur."

Gabriel stared up at Kafziel contemplatively. "That’s even kinkier. The last four years really bent him, didn’t they?"

"Eat your cake, Jibril." Kafziel punctuated the sentence with a thrust and grind, and Gabriel didn’t forget what he was talking about, but he definitely put it aside.

As Gabriel writhed beneath him, still half-distracted by the too-sweet yellow cakes, Kafziel whispered tales of other times against Gabriel’s pale neck, punctuated with deep thrusts and nips along the smooth line of his jaw.

"Given flesh, I can finally show you what I didn’t know enough to feel, when we helped you scatter fire across four cities on the Canaanite plain, watching your voice shake down the walls, and hearing it resonate through all that I was, all that I could dream of being. I told myself that you were an archangel, and I was supposed to be shaken by your displays of our father’s wrath, but I met your brothers, and they did not so inspire me."

Gabriel swallowed and twisted his head to the side. "Are you telling me you’ve wanted to bone me for nearly four thousand years?"

Kafziel lifted his head, to lick the sticky-sweetness from Gabriel’s lips. "And then I spent half of it figuring out what it was, and the other half avoiding you."

"I’m so glad you’re done being coy."

"You can’t be that glad. You’re still talking."

"You’d be amazed what I can talk through. It’s a talent." Tilting his hips back, Gabriel stretched, catlike, winding one leg around Kafziel’s thigh. "The talking is good, but more fucking."

Nearly ten seconds passed before Kafziel recovered his mind from the deadly angle of Gabriel’s hips. "Didn’t want you to choke on your twinkies."

"Please. Breathing’s optional." Gabriel bobbed his hips, as if he were impatiently drumming his fingers on a table. "You have to explain to me how it is that you’ve got something that’s probably the size of my forearm in my ass, and it still feels like teasing."

"It’s not that big," Kafziel growled, letting a few well-timed thrusts demonstrate his point.

Gabriel’s back arched and his head tipped back, baring the expanse of his pale throat. "That. Right there. Keep doing that."

Worshipping Gabriel’s throat with his tongue and teeth, Kafziel did as requested. "Like that?"

"Mmm, just like that. And now I know why I called you my left hand," Gabriel purred.

A moment passed while Kafziel sorted through a couple thousand years of human humour, and then he fell to his elbows, face pressed to Gabriel’s neck as he laughed so hard his eyes watered, still trying to keep his hips moving at that pace Gabriel so enjoyed. The stuttered thrusts seemed to have an even better effect, as Gabriel writhed and twisted under him, clawing at his back with blunted, short nails.

"Do you remember Damghan? When we finally found what we were missing, and destroyed the town? Do you remember that moment before it became horrible, when I was tangled up in your limbs and holding the roof up with my wings? Because that was the first time I actually understood humanity." Gabriel rolled his hips in some way that Kafziel was sure violated the laws of physics. "Remind me what I’ve been missing."

Kafziel buried his teeth in the milky skin of Gabriel’s shoulder, intensely aware of the sudden sensation of being smothered in feathers, as if a feathered cloak larger than his body had been wrapped around him.

"This is what you’ve been missing, Jibril. It isn’t human at all." A strange bi-tonal sound spilled from Kafziel’s throat, and he followed it with a few firm words of Enochian, and Gabriel twisted beneath him, bucking and grinding as his true form resonated out from the vessel that pulsed, warm, wet, and thick, against Kafziel’s belly.

"You— you cheated," Gabriel panted, not even trying to crawl all the way back into his vessel, content, for the moment, to remain a column of brilliant blue light, surrounding both their vessels and the bed.

"Mmm, only for you." Kafziel laughed again, hips still in motion, and Gabriel felt his vessel writhe around those amazing vibrations that echoed into hollow spaces he never knew the body had.

"We didn’t really take the time, last time, did we?" Gabriel flexed and stretched in more dimensions than his vessel existed in.

"We didn’t really have the time. We destroyed miles of settlements. There were aftershocks for years." Kafziel’s thrusts became shorter and harder, as he rested his lips against the curve of Gabriel’s ear. "They were coming for us, then. Never did catch up with us, which I’m sure was your doing."

"Ah! They— couldn’t have — found their own asses — nnh! — with flashlights, in kilts in a gale. And that wasn’t all me," Gabriel panted, tensing around Kafziel. "But, this is. Spread your — your wings, so I can touch them. I want to touch some — part of you that’s — you." He paused and then exhaled another sentence. "This is so much easier when I’m not on two planes of existence."

Kafziel buried his face against Gabriel’s neck, cackling like a fool. "Jibril, this is ridiculous. We’re ridiculous." His wings unfurled from his back, to be immediately beset by Gabriel’s …hands? feathers? Certainly no part of the archangel’s vessel. "I have no intention of stopping on account of hysterical mania."

"Good. I love it when you laugh." While Gabriel thought that was probably unspeakably obvious, given the way his vessel’s flesh tensed and twinged, every few whoops, but it was worth mentioning.

"Did I ever touch your wings, before we fell, Kafziel? I think I didn’t. I think that was a terrible waste, but there was so much I didn’t understand, then. So much we didn’t understand." Some part of Gabriel’s directed intent clutched at the base of Kafziel’s wings, and raced out along what would have been the bones, if angel wings were physical.

Kafziel choked on a laugh, eyes wide, as one of his hands locked around Gabriel’s shoulder and the other scrabbled at the sheets. The power, the pleasure, the reality of Gabriel’s touch tore through him in ways he couldn’t begin to explain, and just as he felt the fire of heaven in his wings, and through the whole of him, his vessel arched back, toes curling, sputtering nonsense, and then slammed back in the other direction, curling around Gabriel, driving into him, teeth sinking into that golden-pale shoulder hard enough to seriously bruise anything that wasn’t an archangel. He could feel his grace fragmenting and winding out of him, like a thousand fish in a suddenly dispersed school. And he knew it would come back to him, so he let himself give in to the sudden exhaustion of the flesh, wrapping his vessel close around Gabriel’s, as they still danced around each other, blue and open, inside the circle that surrounded them.

"Got it," Gabriel mumbled.

"Nnngh?" Kafziel refused to try for coherence, just yet.

"This piece was mine. I’m taking it back."

Kafziel made a disappointed sound as it absorbed back into Gabriel. "Liked it."

"It’s all stained with two thousand years of living. Take this one instead. It’s newer. It’s more me."

Some unidentifiable sliver of Gabriel pressed into his vessel’s mouth, and Kafziel curled some bit of himself around it gratefully, jealously.

"Again?" Gabriel muttered inquisitively, from under the immense pile of sprawled flesh across him.

"Later. ‘M busy." Kafziel drawled, quietly.

"You’re an angel. You could fix that problem." Gabriel reminded him.

"‘S not a problem. Busy tasting you in my bones. Missed you."

"Can I have my arm back? There’s a box of twinkies with my name on it." A few sticky-slithy twists and that became possible. "Also, we’re trapped. How are we getting out?"

"Lid’s folded up under the bed. I’ll care in a while."

"I’ve got twinkies and your dick up my ass. I’m not going anywhere."

Kafziel started laughing again. He really had missed Gabriel, whatever he might say in public.