Log in

No account? Create an account
21 October 2013 @ 07:01 pm
Catalyst (Fic, Ezekiel/Sam, NC-17)  
Title: Catalyst
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Ezekiel/Sam, vague allusions to Wincest and Sam's past relationships
Warnings: explicit m/solo, voyeurism (sort of)
Spoilers: 9x1
Word Count: 2,583
Summary: For this prompt at spnkink_meme Ezekiel/Sam, voyeurism.  Even though Sam doesn't know that Ezekiel is inside of him, Ezekiel is very aware of everything that Sam does - including taking extra-long showers and masturbating. Ezekiel tries to give Sam his privacy, since he is kind of squatting in Sam's body, but he's...intrigued...by human sexuality, and he finds that he likes watching. Bonus if Ezekiel takes over Sam's consciousness for a while and tries to masturbate, but doesn't find it as hot as watching Sam. More bonus if Ezekiel is totally torn up about this inside, because he's not being a very good 'shepherd' by doing this, but he just can't stop being a creeper.

The sensation is an unfamiliar one – a slight buzz under his skin, a faint sense of yearning deep in the pit of his stomach, almost like an itch that needs to be scratched. It’s peculiar, but it’s certainly not unpleasant.

Sam Winchester is the most fascinating vessel Ezekiel has ever had the honor of inhabiting and the only one whose human spirit still remains within, completely unaware of the angel’s presence. He’s an honorable young man, earnest and sincere; wanting nothing more than for those he cares about – those he truly loves – to be happy and safe. But perhaps the most admirable quality about Sam is his unyielding strength despite the broken pieces of him that are shattered nearly beyond repair.

It’s half-past midnight already and Sam has been reading through various case studies from the Men of Letters archives all evening. He finally gives his brother a small smile as he shuts the book he’s reading, his chair scraping against the hardwood floor as he rises to his feet. “Gonna shower and hit the sack,” he says. “Don’t stay up too late, huh?”

“Yes dear,” Dean smirks. “Great job out there today, little brother. We’re getting there, I can feel it.”

Ezekiel smiles to himself as Sam just scoffs and heads down the corridor toward the bathroom. He is all too familiar with this emotion; Sam embarrasses easily and often, but it’s an oddly endearing quality. He settles in for the long haul when his vessel begins to undress, carefully folding his jeans and flannel shirt before placing his underwear and t-shirt on top of the neat pile of clothes on the counter. For whatever reason, Sam likes to take long, hot showers; sometimes he just stands under the spray of water and lets it rain down on him for over an hour. Perhaps it relaxes him, and if that’s the case, it will go a long way toward healing the scars of anxiety and paranoia that are carved so deeply into his soul.

The warmth of the shower feels great against Sam’s skin and the pressure is perfect, the jets of water almost like a deep-tissue massage. Sam soaps up his washcloth and absently swipes the soft, sudsy material over his chest and stomach, his back and neck, and then down between his legs. He hums contentedly, hands lingering as he lets the washcloth slip away and instead wraps his palm loosely around his half-hard cock.

Ezekiel watches in silent fascination as Sam’s gaze drops down the length of his long, lean body. He curls his free hand around the heavy swell of his balls and squeezes gently, sending a tremor of pleasure coursing through his body. It feels amazing – warm and pleasant and puzzlingly too much and not enough all at the same time. Sam’s member is certainly an impressive sight to behold – dark, satin-smooth skin pulled taut over hard flesh curved up toward his belly, the crown thick and prominent around the swollen head. Sam turns so that his back catches the shower spray, forming a protective shield for him to focus on the task at hand. He strokes himself a couple of times, all the way from root to tip, moaning softly at the resulting sensation.

Suddenly and unexplainably, Ezekiel feels terrible about watching this scene unfold. He hurriedly wills himself to think about something else – to pull up a chair in Sam’s figurative mind-space and read the newspaper instead of sharing this private moment with him. But it’s nearly impossible not to notice the tremors of incredible pleasure racing up and down Sam’s spine, blooming under his skin, blurring his vision at the edges. Still, he stubbornly refuses to partake in it, putting up a mental wall around his own consciousness as Sam continues to pleasure himself.

Sam flails one arm out to steady himself against the tiled wall and bites back a grunt as his orgasm tears suddenly through him. He erupts over his clenched fist again and again, his release splattering onto the ground and quickly mixing with the running water before slipping down the drain. Ezekiel is just as relieved as Sam is when he exhales slow and shaky and turns around to face the water again. He tilts his face up toward the spray and smiles, humming quietly in contentment as the water rains down on him, running down his body in rivulets.

A few long moments pass and Ezekiel settles in again, absently sifting through Sam’s thoughts as he relaxes under the warmth of the shower as well. Sam remembers so much – minute details that most folks would cast thoughtlessly aside – and it’s just about as fascinating as it is depressing to know how much Sam has experienced in life as well as in death. Ezekiel sees everything simply by feeling the emotions that Sam experienced; sometimes he’s lucky enough to catch a random, colorful snapshot or hear the voice of a lost loved one based on the emotion the memory invokes within him.

He considers himself fortunate to feel what Sam felt, to know what it’s like to love and to be loved so deeply. It’s evident in the warmth of her soft curves when she’d lie down beside him and the sensation of her fingers threading absently through his hair when he couldn’t sleep at night. It’s a startling contrast against Dean’s lean muscle curling around him, protecting him from the evil hidden in the night’s shadows, but the underlying emotion is the same – deep, enduring love without condition, without hesitation.

Pain and sorrow lie beneath the surface as well: a dark, aching emptiness deep inside where he has sacrificed so much of himself for the sake of the greater good. He can feel the warmth of the tears on Sam’s cheeks, the sobs that wracked his body the night he sat in his brother’s car under an old cottonwood tree and put the barrel of Dean’s gun between his lips. He feels the anguish and guilt as though they are his own cross to bear – the regret of a million mistakes made, the bitter shame of actions that he can never take back.

For the last several days, Ezekiel has taken each of Sam’s broken pieces and painstakingly mended them together, smoothing over the cracks with every bit of grace he could conjure from within him. He does this again and again, watching helplessly when the pieces sometimes fracture again and he has no choice but to start anew. When there’s nothing left, he prays; calls upon the God that has forsaken him so many times before to have mercy on Sam’s soul, to give him the gift of everlasting peace he so rightly deserves.

His attention snaps abruptly into focus again at the sensation of Sam’s hands brushing gently over his chest. He makes a soft, pleased noise deep in his throat and then moves across to his nipples and pinches his fingers around the nubs of flesh, sending a jolt of pleasure-pain rushing through him. He’s hard again already, his dick filling and stiffening as it starts to leak a mix of come and fresh pre-come from the tip. Ezekiel can’t help being impressed by the man’s stamina and takes a moment just to revel in the heated blood pumping strong and healthy through Sam’s virile body.

He watches keenly while Sam continues to tease and tweak his nipples, eventually letting one hand slip down his lean torso to wrap around his hard cock again. He squeezes and strokes – slow and lazy now – dragging his hand all the way along the length of his shaft, bringing his palm up to circle around the head on each upstroke. He turns again to face away from the spray and reaches for more soap, absently working up a bit more lather to help ease the slide of friction.

Sam is beautiful and perfect and so flawed in his perfection that Ezekiel just cannot resist this time.

The water feels wonderful as it pounds against his back and shoulders, but the pleasure heavy in his groin easily blots out all of his other senses. Sam lets his hand slip back between his ass-cheeks to gently push and prod at his opening. The skin there is incredibly sensitive and it feels amazing, but Sam doesn’t go any further than just teasing the puckered flesh with the pads of his fingertips. He keeps the hand wrapped around his cock stationary and instead begins to thrust his hips into the tight channel of his clenched fist. Ezekiel wonders if it feels better this way, or if it somehow reminds Sam of the intimate moments from his past. He continues to fuck into his own closed fist, grunting softly each time he pistons his hips, chasing after the pleasure. His brain is suddenly assaulted by a cavalcade of memories – bright, random images of gold-flecked hazel eyes and kiss-bitten lips pressing hot and desperate against his own, strong hands wrapped around his hips, fingertips biting into sweat-slicked flesh.

Sam suddenly picks up his pace, thrusting hard and fast and nearly frantic, squeezing his hand rhythmically under the head in time with his thrusts. Ezekiel unconsciously braces himself for it even though he’s not entirely sure what to expect. The sudden surge of sensation knocks the air from Sam’s lungs, sending a thrill almost like static electricity zipping up and down his spine and pleasure blooming under every inch of his skin. Sam blinks his eyes open, watching as his cock swells and jerks as he milks out spurt after spurt of hot, milky-white come. The first burst splatters across the tiled wall and the next a bit further down until the pulses finally slow to dribbles over his clenched fist.

Sam loosens his grip around his softening flesh but continues to cradle it gently as he struggles to steady his ragged breathing. Ezekiel isn’t sure which was more enjoyable: the intense pleasure of the climax itself or this – the pleasant, hazy after-effects of it. Much too soon, Sam takes in a deep breath and then lets it out slowly as he releases his spent dick and drops his hands back down to his sides. He chuckles softly when he catches sight of the mess of come painted across the wall, then hurriedly cups his palms to gather up enough water to wash it away.

Interestingly enough, the post-orgasmic haze lasts even when Sam spreads out on his bed and easily drifts off to sleep later that night. Ezekiel remains alert and aware, watching over Sam even as his vessel rests and replenishes itself. The angel’s thoughts are racing though; despite feeling incredibly guilty for even having the mere thought, he can barely wait to try it out for himself.

Dean goes out to run a few errands the next day, so Ezekiel slips into the room that Sam sleeps in and locks the door behind him, gently tucking Sam’s soul into a safe corner of his consciousness. It’s not often that he’s uncomfortable in this skin, but suddenly he feels almost unworthy of the strength and fortitude of his vessel. He draws in a deep breath and takes his time undressing, standing at the mirror behind the door to watch each inch of smooth, tanned skin as it’s revealed.

Sam is a fine specimen of a man – nearly six and a half feet tall, big in all the right places but still lean enough to be swift on his feet. Once he’s entirely nude, Ezekiel hungrily sweeps his eyes over Sam’s body, drinking in the strong lines and curves of muscle and the light dusting of hair on his legs and chest. His face is not traditionally handsome but he’s stunning nonetheless – high cheekbones and a strong jaw, eyes that are deep, soulful pools of iridescent hazel green. He wears his hair too long, but it suits him, falling over his forehead and the nape of his neck in dark, sun-kissed waves.

Ezekiel lowers his gaze and unashamedly lets it linger between Sam’s legs where his cock is sitting there innocently upon a nest of dark, wiry curls. He tilts his head and watches curiously as he runs his fingertips over the velvet-soft skin and the organ twitches in response. It feels nice so he repeats the motion, smiling faintly when a fresh rush of blood begins to fill and stiffen Sam’s dick. He mimics what Sam did the night before – squeezes his hand around his cock and strokes it again and again, coaxing it to full hardness.

Once it’s completely erect, Ezekiel pauses to admire Sam’s reflection in the mirror, absently running his fingertips along the underside of the shaft, tracing the intricate maze of dark veins pumping hot and steady just under the surface of his skin. He wraps his palm around the stiff flesh just under the head and squeezes gently, smiling when a clear bead of pre-come pulses from the slit. He tentatively dabs at the slippery liquid with his fingertips, smearing it all around the tip until it’s shiny and wet. There’s a spot on the underside where the skin gathers just under the head; he remembers how sensitive it was last night, so he focuses on that area, using the inside of his index finger to massage over it on every stroke.

It definitely feels good on the surface, but there’s something unexplainably missing. Despite his efforts to continue on, it isn’t long before all that’s left is a deep, inexplicable sadness within him. He tries to repeat exactly what Sam did last night – even considers going into the bathroom and getting under the shower – but it’s no use. Ezekiel sighs deeply and then reaches for Sam’s clothes and carefully re-dresses the man, tucking his wilting erection back into his boxer-briefs before pulling his jeans back on. He drifts out of the bedroom into the library and sinks onto one of the chairs at the desk near the back by the bookshelves. It doesn’t make any sense, but then again, this is all quite new to him and at times, he still doesn’t even know where to begin. Ezekiel sighs deeply and flips the nearest manuscript open as he carefully lets Sam’s spirit slip rightfully back into place.

Sam blinks a few times like one does when they’ve lost the place in the book they’re reading. But then he frowns at the words laid out in front of him and rises to his feet, wandering over to the half bookshelf under Dean’s favorite collection of swords. He crouches down and his eyes sweep over the titles on the rows of faded book spines until he reaches a thin, unmarked one. He snorts softly – sounding almost triumphant – when he pulls the magazine out and flips it open.

Each page is covered in gorgeous black and white photos of nude men and women in the most unusual poses and positions. They are all quite beautiful, their bodies perfectly intertwined and connected in the most intimate places. Sam tugs his lip between his teeth and continues to peruse the magazine, even stopping every so often to read the accompanying text. After a few more minutes, he glances at his watch and then hesitates for just a moment before rising to his feet and heading straight for his bedroom. Ezekiel hurriedly pushes away the shame and doubt as he follows along, eager for Sam to share the most supreme pleasure with him once again.
Andiepaper_storm88 on October 22nd, 2013 05:13 am (UTC)
To be completely honest, when I read that the pairing was Sam/Ezekiel, the voice in my head went "Ew, freak." Lol. But because it's you, I read it anyway, and oh. my. god. This is gorgeous. Poignant and important and beautifully written. It's somehow sweet and dangerous at the same time. I absolutely loved it.
Sakurasakura_no_mi on November 10th, 2013 02:14 am (UTC)
Oy, sorry for the late reply. I'm a little scattered recently for some reason. Anyway, thank you for giving it a chance even though I totally let my freak flag fly taking this one on. It means a lot that you feel like I took it in a good direction and didn't bad-touch anyone, hehe. <333 & hugs.
I want another pony: hotsamverucasalt123 on October 22nd, 2013 07:36 am (UTC)
This is fantastic. I love how Ezekiel gets the mechanics of it but can't quite replicate the experience when he's not using Sam's memories and thoughts to encourage the arousal.
Sakurasakura_no_mi on November 10th, 2013 02:14 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for reading & for the lovely comment <333
Sleepy Percysleepypercy on October 23rd, 2013 03:10 am (UTC)
This is wonderful! I honestly wish we could get a lot of study into angels experiencing all parts of humanity and learning about human senses, emotions, etc. You write so beautifully, and I love Ezekiel's POV in this, and how fascinating and humanly lovely it is to explore Sam's body and mind like this.
Sakurasakura_no_mi on November 10th, 2013 02:15 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for your lovely comment! I'm so happy to hear you enjoyed this <333
jasmineislandjasmineisland on October 27th, 2013 11:41 pm (UTC)
I love Zeke's emotions in this. How he sees Sam. *sniff* Wow.
Sakurasakura_no_mi on November 10th, 2013 02:16 am (UTC)
Thank you!
janicec678 on October 27th, 2013 11:57 pm (UTC)
Learning how Zeke sees Sam...seeing through his eyes?? Beautiful! And the gentleness with which he handles his human, literally and figuratively, is so touching. Great job.!
Sakurasakura_no_mi on November 10th, 2013 02:17 am (UTC)
Thank you so much for your awesome comment! I really enjoyed writing this one so I'm happy to hear you enjoyed it :)
CJreggie11 on October 30th, 2013 03:50 am (UTC)
Really wonderful. I wasn't quite sure how the pairing would work but work it did, and beautifully. I loved it!

Edited at 2013-10-30 03:51 am (UTC)
Sakurasakura_no_mi on November 10th, 2013 02:18 am (UTC)
Thank you so much!!
(Deleted comment)
Sakurasakura_no_mi on November 10th, 2013 02:18 am (UTC)
Thank you very much! I really wasn't sure how true it was to the prompt 'cause it kinda got away from me, so I'm happy (and relieved!) to hear you liked it <333