Slippery when Wet
Category: Fluff, Humor, Romance
Summary: Xmas prompt: Your OTP is stuck in a car on the way to a new destination. They get stuck in a snowdrift. What do they do? Line to include: "You know, none of this would have happened if you slowed down"
Warning: Adult Fanfiction, Spoiler for season seven
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I´m writing for free.
Feedback: Show me some respect, please.
Word Count: 1.850
Released: January 2013
A deafening bang announced the end of their flight. Blinding whiteness. Shouts of pain. Chaos.
"Fucking pansy. I asked you to slow down," Meg complained to the creature slumped against the dashboard in the front seat.
"Yeah, right, keep telling yourself that."
"Slower is not in my nature," the angel said, healing the laceration on his forehead immediately.
She rolled her eyes. "´Course. Waste your power on silly boo-boos."
"That´s all I´m able to do right now," the angel explained softly. The sight of Meg collapsed into a bundle of limbs was disturbing. The whole time since they went on the run he had heard her whimpering back there. She had tried to keep it down but every bump in the road had failed her. A demon suffering was something he had to get used to. "After all we got away from Crowley and his bloodhounds."
"Oh yeah? That´s why we´re stuck in a fucking snowbank in the middle of nowhere."
He peeked through the front windshield. "The view is rather beautiful."
"It´s just snow. Fucking snow. Cold, white, slippery," the demon huffed, shuffling around to find a more comfortable position.
"Clean," Castiel added, defiant.
"Exactly. An awful lot of clean. Except for the piece of shit you´ve driven right into the stuff."
"Dean will be very upset if I damaged the car."
"Fuck Dean! Why did you bring his junk to this anyway?"
"I needed a mobility device. I couldn´t zap. I needed all my power to save you."
"Dumbest rescue ever." Despite the trauma she had endured she crawled to the door and pushed the handle down. The door creaked open. Icy air spilled in and made her flinch. She knew she had nowhere to go but she wouldn´t stay here, forced to be grateful to emo-boy. "See ya, cloud-hopper." She bent over the edge and fell right into the whiteness she hated so much, ending up thigh-deep in more trouble. "Damn meatsuit!"
"Meg." He peeled himself from the seat and came after her. The coldness awaited him with biting teeth, too, but he didn´t shiver nor did he feel cold. How could he, finally having rescued her from Crowley? How could he, being with her at last? Briefly, he noticed the star-strewn sky, with its key feature, the moon, illuminating the wintry landscape and the demon´s dark figure. So beautiful in her thorny pain. "Don´t hurt yourself more."
"Shut the fuck up!" Meg struggled like crazy to get her legs free to overcome the foolish obstacle in her way. All she managed to accomplish in her fury was getting soaking wet up to her hips. She couldn´t hold herself back from screaming in frustration.
Castiel caught up with her and embraced her from behind. "Please calm down. You need all your strength to recover."
"Go fuck yourself," she continued to insult him, and then a hot stab of pure agony ripped through her, while black tears spilled over her cheeks like a flood of purest evil. This time she screamed because of utter pain.
"I got you." Gently, he pulled her free and heaved her back into the car, not saying a word about her crying.
Slumped to a raw matter in his grip, she wiped frantically over her face, making it all worse. "I´m fucking wet."
"Yes." He managed to make room for both of them in the back seat. "I can alter that."
"Really?" She shivered violently. "Maybe you should close the damn door first."
"Right." A flex of his index finger and both doors banged shut in a split second.
She snorted. If she´d had the strength she would have punched him. "You´re such a show-off, Clarence."
"On occasion." He removed his tie, coat, and jacket and made a cushion to support her head with the last one.
Meg was observing his activities behind half-closed eyes, enjoying having her legs comfortably resting on his lap. "Just like old times," she teased, remembering their intimate time in the mental institution.
"You should rest," he replied, and pulled the zipper of her pants down.
"What are you doing?" There wasn´t any concern in her voice, only inflamed excitement.
"Getting the wet clothes off."
"O-kay." She melted into him, more black, sticky blobs of agony streaming out of her eyes. Crowley had tortured her so bad and for such a long time she wasn´t able to fight the freaking angel, who dared to be so fucking kind to her. For the moment she was beaten, maybe even broken.
He misunderstood her reaction completely. "Meg, I won´t hurt you." With subtle tweaks he got her buck naked south of the waist but wrapped her exposed bottom up in his trenchcoat immediately. Her garments he hung over the front seat to dry. After that he ripped a strip of his white shirt off to clean her face.
She had no choice but to rejoice in his endearments. She was still mad at him but willing to forgive for more of his angelic touch. "Fuck, Clarence. What took you so long? I was ripped to pieces waiting for you."
"My apologies. In some matters I can be slow." His eyes turned captivatingly bright. Brilliant bluish light filled the interior of the car. "Let me make amends by giving you some of my grace to heal faster."
"I thought you got no juice."
"Barely, but I can do this." His hand grazed past her hair, face, neck, chest, belly, right down to her toes, leaving dots of blue glimmer on the way. It was a sight to behold but sadly the glimmer dissolved into thin air in seconds.
"Poof!" Her husky laughter stilled quickly when overwhelming warmth spread through her body, making her relive a sensation she thought she had lost forever through Crowley´s torture. "Oh sweetness. My meatsuit´s getting all dewy."
His expression was shocked but perplexed. "I didn´t want that. My intention was to cure you."
"You did." She seized his hand and put it between her damp legs. "Can you feel it?" She pressed her thighs tighter together, slightly moving her hips. "This will make me all better."
"I don´t think so." But for reasons of his own two of his fingers glided deeper into the curious spot, feeling soft hairs tickling their skin.
"There you go." Meg closed her eyes and wriggled her ass. "Aw...sweetie...give me all you have...rub me...rub."
The angel plunged deeper, moving his fingers in a consoling rhythm, touching a small knob on the way. "I know what you´re making me do. I watched the humans long enough." Yet he couldn´t deny her naughty desire. Not after what she´d been through.
"Don´t torture me then and go faster," she cheered, jerking her hips fervently.
"Not long ago you were complaining...." Her sudden change of mood confused him.
"Come on, angel boy, rub my little button. Rub it hard."
"This is a button? What´s its purpose?" he asked earnestly, while his stroking increased, partly through her pleading, partly through the slippery heat moistening all around her secretive hole. The pace and pressure of his hand turned a great deal more rapid and the sounds of the demon a great deal louder and juicier.
"Yes. That´s the spirit. Oh."
"You shouldn´t enjoy this that much in your condition."
"Bad demon. Yes. I should be punished. Maybe you should rub me harder."
"Maybe I should." His cheeks flushed, his blue eyes blazed, and his hand grew soaking wet in the process of rubbing the sin of lust out of her. "There."
"Oh yes. I´m flying." She came in such a rush it was impossible to play it cool. "Oooh. Sweet hell. Sweet heaven." She shook and coiled and moaned, gushing more wetness over her crotch and his hand. "Sweet fucking grace."
He held her tightly until she went limp. "Fast enough?" he finally asked, sounding slightly baffled. "Can we rest now?" His splattered hand he casually dried on his coat.
"Alrighty, Clarence, my little tree-topper," she purred, and delved into him and his coat. "A-plus for you." My angel.
"Uh...thank you," Castiel murmured, a little breathless himself, not quite sure why. Inexplicably in full feather he gifted a velvet kiss to her shiny lips.
jingle jingle jingle jingleling The sound of bells made Meg jerk up from resting. She must have dozed off for a moment...or even more? Castiel wasn´t with her anymore yet she was still wrapped up in his trenchcoat. The jingling sound continued to ring in her ears. What the fuck? Slowly, she squeezed herself back into pants and boots. The car lurched. Hey! She peered through the ice-covered window. Crowley! Did he find us? She couldn´t see a damn thing. "Castiel?" His name rolled over her tongue like a personal prayer.
The door at the driver´s side opened and the angel jumped in. "Hello."
"What´s going on?"
"We´re free. We can drive back to the cabin."
"Getting back your juice, huh?"
"No. A man in a sledge came by and helped to pull the car out of the snowbank."
"A man? In a sledge? You´re fucking kidding me, right? Don´t tell me he wore bells around his neck."
"He himself did not. Only his reindeer." He noticed her devastated expression. "What´s the matter?"
"You´re not real, right?" she said, exasperated. "I´m still in Crowley´s torture chambers."
Castiel blinked. "What makes you think that?"
"Because this is not the first time I...I...have..." ...visions of light and wings and the Angel flying us to Heaven. In the end I was always back to reality, torture and damnation... She shook the sinister memory off. Damn it. He came. In a car. No wings. No flying. No. But he came, didn´t he? "...oh fuck...because Santa Claus himself saved us, that´s why. This can´t be real."
"I see." He flexed his finger. The motor roared. "You doubted me." He grabbed the wheel and made the car leap back onto the street, slightly skidding across, almost hitting another snowbank.
"Can you blame me? You know, none of this would have happened if you slowed down," Meg complained to provoke him into being a little more bad ass. She liked him that way. Bad ass Castiel was the biggest turn on.
"And what exactly is it you want erased?" His lips twitched. "The crash? The debate? The rub off?"
Softened, she leaned against him, laughing. Maybe tomorrow. "How long will it take us to get to the cabin?"
"As slow as I am driving right now, it will probably take all winter." He frowned. "Dean will be very upset finding out the car is missing."
"He didn´t know you took it?"
"Oh. Oh. You´re one dead angel." She put a hand on his thigh, rubbing the inside delicately. "I should unwrap the goods before it´s too late."
"What are you saying?" He gave her a curious side glance, quite clueless about her intentions, but then the intimate groping got promising, his crotch bulged through her unwrapping, and he got the meaning after all. "Oh. I see. This is a flirtation, not sarcasm."
"That´s my boy." Mine.