A/N: The entirety of this story is very dark, so I think it'd just be easier to have trigger warnings for the whole story rather than just separate chapters. Please read the warnings, and if any of them bother you don't read this story; you're in no way obligated to. I haven't gotten hate for my writing yet, but I know that people seem a little more inclined to hand out hate on this site than on others.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Graphic depictions of violence (torture), rape/non-con, mentions of underage prostitution, trauma (both physical and mental), PTSD, suicidal thoughts, permanent damage, and lots of medical type care (hospitalization, emergency surgeries, other surgeries and procedures, stitches, IVs, blood transfusions, sedation, and admittance into a mental hospital).
Pairings in this story include: Destiel (sort of, slightly non-con at some points), non-con Samifer, non-con Sastiel [I think technically, but it's nothing either of them willingly did to each other (you have Lucifer to thank for this mess)], non-con Lucifer/Dean Winchester, technically non-con Lucifer/Castiel, and non-con Damara.
This is basically a how-to guide on breaking Team Free Will.
Also, I do realize this is taking some time away from my other stories, such as, Deathless, and Who Is in Control?, but it will in no way keep me from completing them. I still have lots of plans for Deathless that I will find the time and motivation to write, but this story was just kicking around inside my head for awhile, and I thought it was time to actually write it out.
"That's not Cas!" Sam yelled to Dean, fear making his voice shrill.
His brother looked towards the angel who still had a hand on his shoulder, fear and confusion in his eyes.
The Devil feigned a guilty expression. "Cat's out."
There was nothing Sam could do as he watched Lucifer throw his brother over the table with one hand; fear had frozen him in place. A grunt of pain left Dean and he lay there for a bit, too stunned to rise. Sam tried to will him to get up, to somehow do something to save them. But he remained on the floor. Lucifer smiled and threw a few punches at the air, pretending to box.
"Mm! I feel a burden lifted. You know, this whole deep cover thing, it just wasn't - it wasn't terribly well thought out. Donning this, this Cas mask, the grim face of angelic constipation? Just… ugh."
As he'd spoken an idea had come to Sam, one that had to work. Slowly, he reached for his back pocket, where his knife was. The little movement hurt - his whole body was aching thanks to Lucifer having touched his soul earlier just because he "asked so nicely". That was something Sam hadn't experienced in years, and the memories it was digging up were making it hard to focus, especially since so much of his energy was being used to bury them again.
He dug the knife out of his pocket, only for it to fall from his shaking hand. It clattered to the floor.
Sam's heart leapt up into his throat as Lucifer directed his gaze at him. Then he started coming over to him, and Sam gripped the knife, kicking himself away.
"What's that you got there, Sammy?" he asked.
A desperate cry left him as Lucifer practically climbed on top of him, and started reaching around. Sam couldn't get his hand away fast enough, and next thing he knew he felt a strong grip on his little finger.
Crack!
He sucked in a breath, biting his bottom lip as he tried desperately to not cry out. A sharp pain shot through his finger, and down to his wrist, and then it began to throb intently. A strangled groan left him, and his grip on the knife weakened. Lucifer slipped it from his hand.
He pulled back, resting his weight on his knees, and he examined the knife with an amused smile on his face.
"What were you gonna do with this?" he asked.
Sam felt his brother's curious gaze on him as well.
"N-nothing," Sam stuttered out, even though he knew lying was futile.
The Devil tilted his head at him. "Come on, Sam. It's me. You can tell me." When he didn't answer he threatened, "I could break another one of your fingers. Would that make you cooperate?"
Even though he knew he'd instantly regret it, Sam somehow built up the courage to spit in Lucifer's face. The dark angel flinched, but didn't seem at all disgusted. He didn't even bother to wipe it away. Sam's stomach curled in on itself.
Lucifer started laughing. "Oh, Sam. I forgot how much fun you can be. You know, spending time with you, and you," he tilted his head to address Dean as well, "and not trying to kill or at least maim you? It was getting exhausting. You boys were insufferable as mortal enemies, but working with you? That's even worse. I was going to just kill the both of you, decorate the walls with your guts and all that, but now I'm getting another idea." He pocketed the knife with a smile. "And thanks for this. I'm definitely going to use it later."
Dean got to his feet, but before he could even take a step towards Lucifer, he casually threw out his hand, pinning him against a pillar with his powers. His brother groaned, and Sam could see how tense his muscles were, trying with all his might to move.
"No, no, no, Dean," he chided, standing and going towards him. "You, you're going to stay right there. Sam and I are going to put on a little show for you."
He swallowed roughly, and his brother frowned, his gaze darting to him.
"Sam? Sam, what does he mean?"
Lucifer suddenly rushed up and grabbed his face, forcing him to look at him. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it's rude to not look at the person addressing you?"
Dean's voice trembled as he asked, "What are you going to do to my brother?"
He patted Dean's cheek. "Nothing I haven't already done before."
Sam backed towards the pillar, and he gripped it with his right hand, almost like the solidness of it would give him strength. It didn't. All he felt was terror as his heart tried to escape his chest.
Lucifer released Dean and sauntered over to him, and Sam's mouth was open as he gasped, now finding it very difficult to get enough air in.
The Devil leered at him. "You really shouldn't have your mouth open like that, Sam," he said. "It's giving me ideas."
"I-ideas?" Dean questioned.
Lucifer ignored him, and Sam didn't have the stomach to explain.
"So how do you want to do this, bunk buddy?" he asked.
A shiver ran through Sam. It'd been a few years since Satan had called him that.
"Of course, I can't have you against the pillar like that," he began, as if he was casually explaining a simple, everyday problem. "Dean won't get to see nearly enough that way."
Sam shook his head, and amidst the horror freezing his blood he was able to get his mouth to work. "No. No. You're not gonna- not gonna touch me."
Truth be told, he didn't want anyone to touch him sexually ever again. Sure, there was that woman he'd had sex with a few months ago, but he'd been growing more comfortable with himself at that point. And now, seeing Lucifer again, being near him, had ruined all of that.
Lucifer laughed. "Sure, like that's going to stop me. Admit it, Sammy. You're helpless." He crouched down suddenly, and Sam stiffened when he put a hand in his hair. When he spoke next his voice was lower, more predatory, and it sounded so damn wrong because it was almost like Cas was speaking to him like this: "I can do whatever I want with you. And I'm going to do just that."
And then he stood, tugging Sam to his feet. His body didn't want to listen when he told it to fight, so he stood there, trembling as Lucifer eyed him.
"Hmm…" he mused. "Let's start with your clothes. Do you want to take them off, or shall I?"
"Don't touch him!" Dean shouted.
"Jeez Louise!" Lucifer shouted, tearing his gaze away to look at Dean. "Talk about bad audience etiquette."
With Satan's gaze focused elsewhere it no longer felt like his energy was being sapped from him, so Sam took a risk. Even though he felt bad about what he was going to do since he would be hurting Cas as well, he grabbed the wrist of the hand that was holding onto him, and he twisted it violently. A multitude of snaps met his ears and a snarl left the Devil. It sounded as if it was filled more with anger than pain.
He slowly turned his head back to him, his eyes now glowing red. Before his fear could rise up and dig its claws into him again, Sam punched him in the face, aiming for his nose. Satan didn't even try to dodge or deflect. He took the punch.
And Sam was the one who got hurt.
A cry left him and he cradled his right hand to his chest. His knuckles bled and they'd surely be turning shades of blue, black, and purple very shortly. He hoped he hadn't broken anything, but he couldn't be sure. It just hurt so much. In his surprise, he'd tried backing away, forgetting that the pillar was behind him. He ended up pressing himself against it, wishing he could somehow disappear.
A white shard of bone was sticking out of Lucifer's wrist, blood dripping to the floor. Sam didn't even have time to feel pride for injuring him like that because he snapped the bone back into place, a growl leaving him as he did so. A ringing sound met his ears and the wound began to glow with angelic light.
And then Lucifer was healed.
His gaze went back to Sam, and sweat trickled down the sides of the hunter's face, the hair on the back of his neck rising.
The dark angel didn't even have to tell him he would regret that. The hellish, red glow of his eyes said it all.
Sam seized up as the Devil lunged at him, expecting powerful blows to be rained down upon him. But none of that happened. Instead one hand went for the back of his neck, the other doing god knew what, and he pressed their lips together. Sam scrunched his face up in disgust, his eyes squeezing shut. Without his consent a whimper left him. And then he was being turned around, so that he would no longer be facing Dean if the Devil stepped away. His older brother would be able to see everything now.
He trembled, his muscles fighting to go limp as he tried to urge them to have him move away.
"Sam!" Dean's warning rang through the air, but it was too late.
Searing pain flashed across his back, and Lucifer pulled away as he fell to his knees. He threw his head back as he screamed, and he could already feel blood flowing from the wound. Lucifer was holding the knife he'd taken from him, the blade dripping red. There was an ache to his injury as well, a sign that the Devil hadn't just used the force necessary to slash his skin. He'd used the same force he would to punch him, and the torn and ravaged muscles of his back felt it.
"There we go, Sammy. On your knees, just as you should be."
"Stop calling him Sammy!" Dean yelled out.
Gratitude for Dean defending him could barely come to life in him. The burning in his body was currently owning his world. And fear. Raw, pure, unadulterated fear had dug its frigid teeth and claws into him, sinking through skin and muscle, into his soul, and it was dragging him down. He no longer had the strength to fight it. This was just the beginning, and already he was losing himself.
He heaved in air as he collapsed, and because of his broken finger and bruised and bleeding knuckles he was unable to rest all of his weight on his hands, so he fell unceremoniously, rolling onto his side with a tired groan.
"Dean," Lucifer growled out, "you're almost lucky you're next. If not I'd cut out your tongue."
Maybe Dean didn't understand what Lucifer meant by saying he was next. Maybe he didn't care. Maybe what was going to happen was just too dark for him to comprehend.
"Then start with me," he challenged, "'cause I'm not gonna shut up."
Satan turned to him. "Don't test me," he warned. But then he must have taken in the horrified look on his face because he went on, his tone teasing, almost like an adult talking to a frightened child, "Aw, you're worried about your brother. You think you can save him from this, don't you?"
"I will."
Lucifer laughed, and it sounded so god damn innocent that it caused chills to run rampant up and down Sam's spine. "Oh, you're gonna be fun." He breathed in contentedly. "But you're just going to have to wait your turn."
A primal growl tore from his brother's throat as the Devil turned his attention back on him, leaving the knife on the floor so he could start tearing at his shirt. And there was nothing Sam could do. He felt so weak. Lucifer wasn't even trapping him with his powers, yet here he was, unable to move.
He tossed his torn and bloodied shirt aside, and then started on his belt. Sam closed his eyes, and starting murmuring to himself. "This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening."
It just can't be. It can't be possibly happening to me again!
He was done with Lucifer. He thought he'd left him in Hell for good this time. But try as he might, he couldn't even feel any anger towards Cas. There was only sadness because his friend hadn't known. He'd been so hurt, so desperate to be useful, to mean something to himself. And now… and now he was going to get violated too. Sam and Dean wouldn't be the only ones with haunting memories from this experience. Lucifer was hurting all of them with just one blow.
Lucifer started pulling his jeans and boxers down.
"Oh, Sam Winchester, this is most definitely happening. And you can blame Cas for it."
"It's not… it's not his fault," Sam got out.
"Oh, it's not? I could've sworn he was the one who said yes to me."
Somehow, a laugh left Sam, but it was breathy, uneven. "Maybe you should study what that word means, 'cause I sure as hell didn't say it."
He smiled at him, and it was feral, dangerous. "I know. That's what makes this so much fun." He turned his head back, addressing his brother now. "You watching, Dean?"
"Don't," Dean pleaded. "Just… don't. Please."
"Aw, you hear that, Sammy? He said please. You boys, over here begging - it's adorable."
The Devil turned his attention back to him, and Sam could feel his heavy, dark gaze on him. He lifted up his head to look at him.
"Dean's watching, by the way," he informed him in a whisper. "Ten bucks says he's gonna get off from this."
There was nothing Sam could say to that because suddenly Lucifer's hand, Cas' hand, really, was wrapped around his cock, gripping just a little too tightly. A groan left him and he threw his head back. His aching, throbbing body eagerly grabbed at the spark of pleasure his touch sent through him, and he gritted his teeth as he felt the growing pressure and heat of his erection.
"Ooh! I barely had to do anything. Have you missed me, Sam?"
"STOP!" he pleaded with Satan as he began to pump him up and down. His cheeks burned red, shame burrowing into him like a drill, causing his stomach to churn and for a hole to form in his chest. Parts of him seemed to chip away and fall into the yawning chasm growing within him. Unshed tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
He just wanted to sink into the floor, never to be seen again. He didn't even want to know of his own existence. The mere thought that this was happening, that the Devil was violating him like this in front of Dean was enough to tear him apart. And it hurt more than his worn body and his broken finger and his damaged knuckles and his bleeding back.
"Dean," he got out, "close your eyes. Please… please close your eyes."
Lucifer whirled towards his brother, but he didn't at all stop what he was doing with his hand. He pointed at him. "Ah-ah-ah! Eyes open."
The hand that wasn't touching him he flicked upwards, and then Sam heard his brother mutter, "Fuck."
Without even having to ask, Sam knew what the Devil had done. He'd made it so Dean couldn't close his eyes. In about ten seconds that was going to start hurting. That was just another reason Sam wanted Lucifer to finish with him quickly, but he knew he wouldn't. He always took his time with him.
Now Sam wasn't sure what he wanted because he knew nothing he could say or do would stop this from happening, but he didn't want it to happen. No one would ever want anything like this to happen to them. But that didn't matter. It was going to. If he somehow convinced Lucifer to get right to it this might be over more quickly for him, and then Dean would be allowed to close his eyes. But then it'd be his brother's turn. Maybe he shouldn't bother postponing the inevitable.
There was only one way to make this happen more quickly.
Sam was going to have to beg.
"Lucifer, please…" Sam began, but then he found he couldn't go on. A deep groan left him, and he unintentionally bucked his hips up into him, his cock twitching as he ran his thumb along the tip. But hopefully his body's treacherous reactions would help with his plan.
"I know, you want me to stop." He chuckled. "You're so cute."
"No, no…" Sam shook his head, and then he swallowed roughly, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Please, just take me."
Lucifer pulled away from him, and his hand was no longer on him. The face that he was so used to seeing Cas' expressions on now scrunched up in confusion, but it looked foreign in the sense that it didn't belong on that face.
"You're joking."
He shook his head again.
Sam glanced at the knife, wondering if he'd be able to move quickly enough to stab himself in time. Then he abandoned the thought, though his hatred for himself was still chipping away at his scarred soul.
His stomach churning, his breaths coming in gasps, his mouth going dry, and his skin becoming slick with sweat, Sam lowered his pants even more.
Lucifer just looked on with wide, hungry eyes.
He turned to Dean. "For the record, I did not train him to do this." Then he mused, "Though maybe I should've. Okay, Sam Winchester, I'll make you my bitch, just 'cause you asked me so nicely."
A tear fell.
A whimper left his brother, and Sam glanced at him. His eyes were watering, or maybe he was crying. It was possibly a combination of both. His bottom lip started trembling, and then Sam was sure the droplets falling from his eyes were tears.
But he didn't see what he expected. He'd expected disappointment, disgust, hatred, even. But all he saw was pain and sadness.
"I'm so sorry he's done this to you before," Dean said softly, his voice cracking on sorry. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry for not understanding."
The words that Sam wanted to say died on his tongue, so he simply gave his older brother a solemn nod. A sob tried crawling its way up from his throat.
Lucifer surprisingly ignored the sentiment shared between them, and grabbed Sam by his waist, rolling him onto his stomach.
Dizziness overcame him, and his body started making too much saliva. In order to combat the nausea now rolling through him, Sam tried taking in a deep breath. It was interrupted when the Devil straddled him, one hand pressing into the wound on his back.
A strangled cry left him, and then he choked out a sob. Oh god, it was happening again. Lucifer was going to rape him again.
Why? Why did he have to endure this? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Sam involuntarily arched into the floor in a vain attempt to escape as he heard Lucifer start undoing his belt. That put unwanted pressure on his erection, and he winced. And he cursed his body for even delighting in any pleasure given to him by Lucifer in the first place. His body wasn't like his mind. It didn't understand all the implications and complicated emotions of this. And Sam hated it. He hated having a body. He hated living. He hated existing.
And his heart was breaking. It was breaking for Dean. He shouldn't have to see this. He shouldn't even have to know this had ever happened to him. And his heart was breaking for Castiel. He knew his best friend didn't want this. And now, they were both being forced to know each other in a terrifyingly intimate way by Satan himself.
The Devil possessing an angel was going to rape him. Bile rose up in Sam's throat when he suddenly felt Lucifer's hardened cock, free of clothing, pressing against his ass, and he coughed it up, his throat burning. It wasn't just feeling another man's length against him that disgusted him, it wasn't just from not wanting this, it was the fact that the Devil had actually gotten aroused from hurting him. Sure, that went with his job description, but experiencing it was so very different from knowing it. It was infinitely more terrifying, infinitely more heart wrenching, infinitely more painful. And he was about to hurt a lot more. That knowledge nearly stopped his heart.
Sam wished it had.
He whined, clenching his hands into fists, despite the sharp jabs the action sent through him. Lucifer had placed himself in between the cheeks of his ass and was now rutting against him. A moan left the dark angel, and more of Sam's tears fell because it was Cas' voice. Oh god, would he ever be able to look at his friend again? Would he ever be able to touch him again, to hear him speak again?
After this, Sam wasn't sure. And that sent shards of ice stabbing into his heart. He sobbed, his body trembling as it heated up from strongly misplaced excitement.
"Castiel," Dean began, voice weak, "I know you're in there. Please, don't let this happen to my brother. Don't let this happen to you."
Lucifer grunted, seemingly from pain this time. And then he growled, and pulled away from Sam. Only to line himself up at his hole.
"Sto-op!" he cried out. His whole body was shaking from an abhorrent mix of fear and arousal. Oh god, why did his body seem to want this? Why did it not understand?
It didn't matter that Sam had been raped so many times before. This was still something he couldn't make sense of, and he knew he'd never be able to. Making sense of something so damn wrong, so inexplicably evil, was truly impossible.
Sam wasn't sure who screamed louder when Satan thrusted into him. He was surrounded by sounds of anguish and fear and profound suffering. And pleasure, raw, voracious pleasure. Lucifer used Castiel's voice to scream, and it made Sam want to stab his eardrums just so he never had to hear that again. But there was something more in the dark angel's voice, something that wasn't quite him, something friendly, and familiar despite the torment it spoke of. It was Castiel. A spark of hope flared in Sam for a second, but it was crushed by an unending darkness when the thrusts began.
Though Lucifer wasn't used to his current vessel, it didn't take him long to find Sam's prostate. He just knew his body that well. He pounded against it, and it sent shockwaves of violent, searing pleasure up his spine, into his gut, and up through his cock, which was now being pressed against the hard floor with each movement. But there was more than just pleasure. Lucifer used Castiel's body to tear into him, ripping and bruising, making him bleed. His thrusts became easier as his unfortunately large member became soaked in his blood.
And Sam screamed and screamed and screamed. And Dean screamed. And the Devil shouted with pure joy.
Dean cried out, his voice surging up out of his chest, "Cas! Fight him! I know you can! You're strong enough!" A growl left him, no doubt because of the way his eyes were burning and watering, but then he continued, his voice not as strong now, it was more intimate, meant for just the two of them, "Cas, I get it, okay? Y-you felt weak, you felt like a failure. You felt useless." He choked out a sob. "You're not useless, okay? You're so, so far from useless. You matter to us, Cas. You matter to me." Dean's voice broke on the last word, and now he was all out sobbing. "Y-y-you ma-matter t-to me, C-Cas. An-and I belie-believe in-in… in you! Now fight him!"
Sam heaved in a breath as the atrocious thrusts came to a stop, his battered, torn body thankful for the reprieve, even if he was still buried deep within him. A tortured moan left the man on top of him, and it sounded exactly like Castiel.
"Sam," he breathed out, pulling out of him.
The younger Winchester cried out as Cas' cock left him; it'd rubbed against his sensitive insides.
"I'm sorry."
Before relief could properly take hold in him, a grunt left the angel.
"Cas?" Sam croaked out, panic causing his pulse to accelerate. "Cas, what's wrong?"
"I can't… I can't hold him off."
"Please," Sam begged, not even sure if he was directing it at Cas. He didn't know who he was begging to. He just wasn't ready for more. He'd never be ready.
"I-I'm…"
He screamed, and the pitch changed, becoming slightly higher, more cold, somehow. And then the Devil was inside of him again.
Sam lost track of time, he lost track of everything but the sensations overwhelming his body and the shame pounding into the very center of his soul. Pain and pleasure intertwined in a vicious dance, a violent battle, and they pummeled and caressed each other, coming together again and again.
Would this ever end?
Somewhere in the middle of it all Satan had removed his boots and the rest of his clothes, leaving Sam completely naked and vulnerable.
Occasionally Dean's strained voice met his ears, assurances that he was there, that it was going to be okay. If only that could comfort him. He didn't even have space within his crowded mind to appreciate that his brother didn't hate him.
At some point Lucifer had rolled Sam onto his back, the floor pressing unforgivingly against his knife wound. Because of that, there were now two puddles of blood on the floor.
He didn't understand it, but the Devil pumped his cock, like he was trying to get him to climax. And it felt beyond good. The pleasure from it burned white-hot, throbbing throughout his screaming body, his overwhelmed nerves. And Lucifer had used something to make his touch more slick, something liquidy and hot. Sam didn't know what it was at the moment, but it felt wrong.
It didn't matter that he was Satan's vessel, that his sole reason for existing was so Lucifer could be inside of him. None of this felt right. Not even the liquid fire that danced and sang through him, causing pressure to build in his pelvis and lower abdomen. Not even the jabs of pleasurable heat that traveled up his spine felt right. And it was made so much worse that it was Castiel's body that was touching him. Castiel was his friend, nothing more, nothing less. But now…
Now he didn't know what they would be.
Even through his excruciating agony he could feel his balls tightening, feel his muscles tensing, recognize the way his body was arching into Lucifer's abhorrent touch. He was going to cum. Any second now.
Lucifer, knowing his body even more than he himself did, also recognized the signs of his impending climax. And he rode him that much harder.
Light, white and burning and atrocious, took over his whole world. A scream tore from his throat that his voice had already scraped raw, and more tears fell, tears that he hadn't even known he'd had left. He trembled violently, a jolt seemingly as powerful as a wave of electricity shot up from his toes, and sensation seared itself into him, his very being. His insides clenched around him, as if begging for more torture, and his cock throbbed in Lucifer's powerful grip, and then his cum was shooting out onto his stomach. Dark and disturbing thoughts he couldn't even make sense of took over his brain and goosebumps ran along his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut, and with each second he wished for this to end, hoping for it more than he ever had before. His cheeks burned red from exertion, from arousal, and from shame. Shame that seemed to shatter him.
Sam had come undone, and the Devil hadn't stopped.
Dean's voice broke through his agony; heartbroken screams that sounded like they were coming from a grieving and wounded animal. A much uglier sound was coming from Sam, something like a mix between a whine and a growl, but much more primal, and so very far from human. It took maybe a minute to realize that that sound was even coming from him. He hadn't known a human could sound like that.
Sam wasn't sure what Lucifer's intent was anymore, wasn't even sure why he'd tried guessing at it earlier.
And then, when his body got used to the over-stimulation and somehow found the ability to enjoy it, Lucifer pulled out of him. Sam was whimpering in the aftermath of his abuse, trying to comfort himself with the fact that it was over for him. It had to be. Surely that's what this was.
"Oh, Sam!" Lucifer cried out, sounding breathless from sheer pleasure. "I missed that."
A sob crawled its way out of his throat. Whimpers and whines that weren't his own met his ears and he opened his eyes, looking over to Dean. His brother's face was wet with tears and from his watering eyes, and those very eyes were bloodshot. A layer of sweat coated his skin. But that wasn't all Sam noticed. It was impossible to ignore. His brother was incredibly hard.
Any normal person would feel absolute hatred from the knowledge that their sexual torment had aroused someone else, but Sam felt none of that. He understood. Dean's body had betrayed him too. And his already broken heart shattered into even tinier pieces knowing that his brother had to experience that.
A groan left Sam, and he turned away, hoping to wallow in his misery, and begging for his aching erection to go away.
Lucifer stood, Sam's blood dripping from him, and he walked over to Dean, his movements sinuous and predatory.
"Your turn, Dean."
"No."
Sam had to bite his right fist, which was now covered in scabs, in order to stop himself from wailing at the terror in his brother's voice.
"What's wrong?" the dark angel taunted. "I know you like this vessel. Sure, I haven't been in your head like I've been in Sam's, but I'm in Cas'. I know all those quiet, intense moments you've shared. I know how he feels about you. And I know the way you look at him, longing in your eyes. It's sweet, really. And to think, you even looked at me like that earlier when you thought I was actually your precious angel. Oh, Dean."
Unable to help himself, and cursing natural human curiosity as he did so, Sam rolled over onto his other side. He wasn't able to hold in a groan, but Dean didn't seem to notice. The Devil was now caressing his brother's face, and relief swept through him when he saw that Dean was blinking again.
"You know, now that I think of it," Lucifer began, "I really shouldn't fuck you when I have Sam's blood all over me. It's just really not classy."
"So you're thinking about class after what you just did to my brother?" he snarled out. "After what you did to Cas?"
Lucifer shrugged. "I'm not an animal, Dean."
And then he sauntered back over to Sam.
Sam didn't have any strength left, none at all, but he searched desperately through the cracked pieces of his being for anything that could help him. There, out of his darkness, out of his strife, he threw together what he could. It wasn't enough, nothing would ever be enough, but it was something. He used that, and through sheer force of will converted it into strength, and he started pushing himself away, beginning to drag himself across the floor. Sam's mouth was dry. He had a feeling about what was going to happen next, and it was maybe even more terrible than what he'd already suffered through that day, mostly because Dean would bear witness to it. He'd bear witness to yet another disgustingly horrifying act.
Lucifer tsked. "Sammy, where do you think you're going? You have to clean me off."
"I won't… do it," he heaved out, not stopping to look at him as he continued his futile escape attempt.
His breath caught in his throat as it felt like he was stabbed again. But pressure remained this time. He hadn't been stabbed. Lucifer was stepping down on the wound in his back.
"Oh you'll do it alright. I find that I can be very convincing."
He shuddered, and then found the ability to breathe again. His voice leaked into his breaths.
"What'll it take, hmm? Another broken finger? A dislocated rib or two? Maybe a stabbed thigh? Skinning, perhaps? How do you feel about losing one of your toes?"
Sam turned his head, doing his best to look at him. "Hurt me all you want," he challenged. "I won't do it."
"Fine," Lucifer conceded. As he removed his foot from Sam's back, he asked, "Dean, you're right-handed, am I correct?"
"What?" his brother asked.
"Come on, Dean. It's just a simple yes or no question. Well, actually I was doing it just to appear polite, you know? It's a little rude showing you know something about someone without that person having given you that information."
"Lucifer, what are you doing?" Sam growled out.
"Hush," he snapped, and then he leaned down and picked up the knife before approaching his brother. Sam's heart decided to start beating like a bass drum during a crescendo. "You see, Dean," Satan explained, "I know you nearly as well as Sam does. That was one of the perks of possessing him."
Sam watched with wide eyes as the Devil took hold of his older brother's right hand, bringing the knife towards it.
He chuckled. "I know you like your middle finger a lot. It's just so useful for insulting people. Let's say we get rid of it, shall we?"
A scream left his brother as the knife plunged into his finger, just above his knuckle. Blood began to spurt, landing on Lucifer's shirt, coating his already bloodied hands, and falling to decorate the floor.
"No!" Sam cried out. "I'll do it! Lucifer, I'll do it!"
He sighed, withdrew the knife, and turned to him. Sam eyed Dean's hand to make sure he still had all five fingers - he did, though he was bleeding fiercely. The initial spurt died down into a fierce torrent and his hand was completely red as Lucifer flicked his own hand, making it go back down to his brother's side again.
Drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip, drip.
Lucifer approached him, and Sam started lifting himself up, his body screaming in admonition. He would do this. He could do this. If it saved Dean from losing a finger he had to. There was no way around it.
All too soon, Lucifer's, well, Castiel's cock, was in Sam's face, covered in his own blood. He nearly forgot how to swallow.
"Use your tongue," the Devil instructed, and then winked at him.
With his trembling right hand he gripped him and brought his mouth towards him. With the first touch of his lips against his skin, Sam's stomach threatened to empty itself, and a breathy sound akin to a sob left him.
But he thought of Dean, and he pushed through, darting his tongue out to start licking him clean. A deep groan left the dark angel and one hand tangled in his hair. Sadly, the other made its way around his neck, squeezing ever so slightly.
Sam tried pulling away as he gasped in surprise, but Lucifer held him steady and took advantage of him opening his mouth wider. Oh god, the metallic and salty taste of his own blood was awful. And beneath that was the taste of skin, and maybe some precum. Sam was pretty sure he'd never been more nauseous in his life, but somehow he kept his stomach under control. His gag reflex was another matter, but Lucifer forced him through it, shoving his cock down his throat with an eagerness that could only be rivaled with the way he'd taken him earlier.
Though Lucifer was dominating him again, Sam still tried to do his best, licking trails over and under him as he plundered his mouth. He did it for Dean, so his brother could keep his finger. With every second that passed he had to tell himself that.
The head of his cock was bumping against the back of his throat, and it hurt a lot more than he remembered. Then again, Cas was, um… a little bigger than Lucifer's vessel during the apocalypse. Though he could generally open his mouth fairly wide his jaw was starting to ache, and panic pulsed through him from the way his body kept attempting to gag and kept attempting to breathe normally. No matter what he did he couldn't relax his throat, and he couldn't get enough air in. His eyes were watering, and he was moaning his discomfort, his voice muffled.
Lucifer was moaning too, and he was staring down at Sam with lust and insatiable hunger. Hunger that he knew he was going to introduce Dean to once he was finished with him.
So Sam forced himself to moan even louder, stopped trying to relax his throat (he knew Lucifer liked it when he gagged), sucked with just the right amount of pressure he knew Lucifer enjoyed, and began fondling his balls. Hopefully he could lessen some of the torture Dean would be forced to go through.
Sam would rather be stabbed through the middle of his chest than do this, but no one was offering, and he couldn't pull away to do it himself. Kneeling there on the floor, his strained and ruined body began to hurt even more, and he trembled with the effort this all took.
Finally, Lucifer pulled away from him, a satisfied sigh escaping his mouth. He slapped Sam lightly on the cheek, and then went over to Dean again.
Sam collapsed, but unconsciousness didn't take him like he wished it to. And there was one thing he was too keenly aware of. His body, the totally fucked up part that apparently liked getting raped even though he hated it so damn much that it made him want to die, had enjoyed giving the Devil a blowjob. He was still incredibly, and achingly hard, and the fact that his cock was covered in his own blood didn't change that. He groaned, and looked to his brother. Hopefully Lucifer wouldn't take as long with him.
Dean couldn't comprehend what was happening. He'd just watched his brother get raped by the Devil, and he couldn't even believe that he'd suffered through it before. It hurt so damn much knowing that he'd failed him so badly, that he'd failed in his duty of protecting him. Oh god, if he had known… he wouldn't have let Sam out of his sight ever again, wouldn't have even let him go into Hell to talk to him about Amara.
Lucifer approached, and it wasn't till he stood a few inches away from him that Dean could actually see him. What he'd done to his eyes had made his vision blurry, and there was a worry piled in amongst all his fear that he wouldn't ever be able to see normally again. Even though he could now see Lucifer's face, he just kept coming closer.
"Dean, Dean, Dean…" he mused. "Oh, Dean, this must be killing you."
He caressed his face and he flinched away. Doing so shouldn't have been so damn hard, but it felt like Cas' hand was touching him, just like he'd always wanted him to. And he knew that things were about to get a whole lot worse. And they did.
A dreadful groan of desire left him as the dark angel palmed at his erection. Oh god, he couldn't even believe he was erect. How had watching his little brother be torn apart done this to him? Why? Dean just couldn't understand, and he wasn't even sure he wanted to.
Somehow, feeling what was supposed to be Castiel's hand touching him like this while he was unable to move made him even harder, and his cock twitched in the Devil's grip.
Satan chuckled. "Do you like being restrained?" he asked, his voice soft.
Dean was taken aback by his tone. He wasn't acting like he'd expected, wasn't acting like he had with Sam. With Sam he'd been violent, completely harsh and ruthless, but with him it was almost like he was trying to be romantic.
But, he had to admit, if he was the Devil, he'd be doing the exact same thing to him. This is what it really took to hurt him because he'd yearned for Cas' touch, yearned to be with him, to hold him, and to love him. And now… And now Lucifer was pretending to do just that, teasing and taunting him.
More tears fell from his itchy, burning eyes, and his throat ached.
"You do, don't you?" he murmured. "You see, Sam doesn't. If I'm being honest here, Sam would prefer to be dominant, but of course, I can't have that, now can I? Well, he probably doesn't even think about sex anymore. I absolutely ruined him when he was in Hell." He chuckled. "But enough about Sam, this is supposed be all about you now." He paused, taking in Dean's reactions as he groped him, staring as he bit at his bottom lip. "You're more submissive, aren't you?"
"How do y-" Dean began to ask, but the dark angel interrupted him.
"Your body is telling me everything I need to know, Dean Winchester."
He gripped him tighter, and Dean winced, tilting his head away. His stomach was quivering from excitement, and it just made him want to die.
"I must say, you're not as big as Sam. But hey, I'm not sure anyone is. You're still quite an impressive size though."
"That's not. For you. To know," he got out through gritted teeth.
"I know. But it's something you wanted Castiel to know, isn't it?" He leaned closer to him, his mouth going towards his ear. Dean's heart sped up as the Devil sucked his earlobe into his mouth, and a crack formed deep in the center of his chest. Then he trailed his tongue over his skin, and feeling his breath against him sent a shiver down his spine. "And now he does," he whispered.
He pulled away, and Dean looked into his eyes, into Cas' eyes. His best friend had to be in there somewhere in those crystalline, azure depths.
"Cas, I'm sorry," he got out. "This isn't how I wanted it to be."
The Devil lowered his head, and he braced himself against the pillar, a grunt leaving him.
The voice that left him next was solely Castiel's. "I had wanted to be with you, Dean. But not like this. This…" He choked up, and Dean watched a tear fall from his chin.
"I know," he told him. "I know."
A growl ripped from his throat, and the angel's head snapped back up. Only, his eyes were glowing red.
"There, you got to talk to your boyfriend. Happy?"
"Screw you."
Lucifer's eyes were back to Castiel's blue.
"No, silly. I'm going to screw you," Lucifer told him, tapping his nose on the last word. Dean flinched away, and the dark angel chuckled.
Satan inhaled peacefully as he started unbuttoning his shirt, taking his time with it. He ran his hand down his torso before fully removing it. Dean shuddered from his touch, hating how it was Castiel's hand that was touching him, but it wasn't Cas who was in control.
Dean took in a shaky breath, and then spoke, his voice quiet, broken, "I don't want this." He wasn't even sure why he'd said those words. Sam's pleas for Lucifer to not touch him earlier hadn't worked, so where did the urge to speak them come from? Maybe it was to tell himself, against what his body seemed to want, that he didn't want this, that this wasn't right. Maybe there was still some little spark of hope in him that hadn't died.
That last little spark was snuffed out by crushing darkness when Lucifer started undoing his belt. "Hmm, let's see what we got here," he commented. When he pulled him free, Dean had to bite back a moan. "Nice. Very nice," he complimented him, his voice low, pleased. His jeans and boxers fell lower, and Dean shook, causing the blood coming from his right hand to splatter onto his thigh. Lucifer noticed, and he licked his lips. He came forward as he began to run his hand over his cock, and he did his best to ignore the way the Devil's erection pressed against him. "Have you ever been fucked by a man before, Dean?"
"Yeah," he answered, surprised by his own honesty. He forced a smile onto his face. "But usually they'd pay me afterwards. You gonna pay me?"
"Huh, I wasn't aware that you'd been a prostitute before. How was it? Was the money good?"
"Well," Dean started, but then was interrupted as a grunt left him; Lucifer had snuck a hand around behind him to grip his ass, digging his nails in a little bit. "I-I always managed to get enough to make su-sure Sammy had something to eat, especially when Dad would take off for weeks at a time."
"So brave," Lucifer breathed. "Exposing yourself to strangers just to take care of your little brother."
So far they'd been speaking quietly, but Dean still glanced past the Devil to see how much Sam was paying attention. His brother was blurry in his vision, and he couldn't make out his facial expression. All he saw was way too much of his brother's skin, and blood. Oh god, there was so much blood.
"Does he know?" Satan asked, drawing his attention back to him.
Dean shook his head.
"Guess it's time he found out."
"N-no. Don't!"
Lucifer addressed Sam, but didn't look at him - he was too busy crouching down and lowering Dean's pants even more, "Hey Sammy! Your brother here just told me something rather interesting. You might want to hear it."
Sam said nothing, so Lucifer went on, "He's sold himself before. Sexually."
When his brother spoke, his voice was weak, confused, "What?"
"It was when we were younger," Dean explained, no longer wanting the Devil to speak for him. "I needed money to feed you."
"God, Dean, you… you didn't have to do that."
He choked back a sob. "That's the thing, I did. I needed to take care of you."
"I'm sorry."
"S'not your fault," he told him before repeating himself, his voice quiet, "S'not your fault."
"Aw, you boys, this is so touching. And Dean, sounds like you were too young for that. Who touched you? Were they older?"
Despite his earlier honesty, this time Dean had to force the word out. "Yes." The knowledge of what he'd had to do in the past was hurting. Funny, it'd been years since he'd last thought of it, but here Lucifer was, talking to him casually about it.
"By the way, Sam!" Lucifer called out, "Your brother here, he likes men."
Sam grunted out, "Kinda figured."
Dean frowned, glancing at him. He knew?
"What?"
He saw a blur of motion from his brother, as if he was shaking his head.
"Not… not right now," he told him. "It's not… not important. We just have to… get through this first."
"Sam, you shouldn't have to be strong for me."
Dean had been about to say something else, something to comfort his brother, but Lucifer was standing, and was right in his face again. He whispered to him, "Dean, you're gonna touch me like you want to touch Cas, understand? Otherwise, I'll just go back over to Sam and fuck him again."
Dean's bottom lip trembled, but he nodded his head in understanding. He hoped Sam would be able to forgive him for this, that he wouldn't judge him.
"I'm gonna take the restraints off, so to speak," he informed him. "Then you, Dean Winchester, you are going to get on your knees and suck me like you'd suck your angel."
Horror clenching a tight fist around his heart, Dean nodded.
Satan caressed his face, and then came forward and kissed him. He didn't kiss him the way he'd kissed Sam earlier. It was filled with lust, but it wasn't dangerous. It was almost like he was trying to pleasure Dean. The older Winchester closed his eyes as he kissed back, letting himself pretend this was Castiel. Dean had dreamed about Castiel's lips being pressed against his like this, moving passionately, hungrily. A gentle moan was pulled from him when Lucifer nipped at his bottom lip, and then ran his tongue along it. And with his mouth open, he took advantage of it, delving his tongue into him. But he didn't act like he was trying to claim. It was to get to know him, to explore. He eventually pulled away, and Dean unintentionally leaned forward, seeking more.
The dark angel smiled at him, but it didn't meet his eyes.
It was then that Dean realized the overwhelming feeling of Lucifer's power keeping him still was gone. He didn't know what to do. His body wanted to be touched, but he wanted to fight him, to punch him in the face and try to make a run for it. But he couldn't do it. He had to do this for Sam.
So he let Lucifer turn him slightly, making it so Sam could see, and when he placed his hands on his shoulders, he began pushing at him. Dean understood and got on his knees.
He had to swallow back bile, his throat burning, when the Devil's cock was in his face. It didn't help that it was coated in his brother's saliva, but what made it worse was that it had originally belonged to Castiel, and it had been used to hurt his brother. He squeezed his eyes shut, and hot tears rolled down his cheeks.
Sammy…
Dean pushed back the memories that were still fresh in his mind, of his brother screaming and crying as Lucifer took him, of his body treacherously growing aroused from having to watch. His vision had gone blurry somewhere in the beginning of it all, but there was no mistaking the way their bodies had moved, no mistaking the loud slap of skin on skin that had echoed throughout the library.
He steeled himself, not entirely sure where the strength was coming from, and he opened his eyes, and took Lucifer's cock in his uninjured hand. He cradled his other hand to his chest, making sure it was above his heart to try and reduce the blood flow. It was difficult to not squeeze his eyes shut again when he put him in his mouth, to just pretend that this was Cas, that this wasn't happening, but he had a feeling the Devil would appreciate seeing his eyes. And he'd wanted to show Cas his eyes when he did this for him.
So he looked up at him, trembling as he swirled his tongue around the tip.
Lucifer ran a bloodied hand through his hair, smiling down at him, but it was all wrong. It wasn't the way Cas smiled. Cas almost never showed his teeth when he smiled, but Lucifer was doing just that, looking much too pleased with this entire situation. God, it was sickening.
The last time he'd given someone a blowjob had actually been a couple weeks ago, on Valentine's Day. He couldn't help but still feel shame about it, and he hated that he knew exactly what to do to please a man, hated that he actually liked having another man's cock in his mouth. It just wasn't easy being comfortable with himself, and here he was being forced to touch another man, and in front of his brother of all things, and after that very same man had raped him. That last thought nearly had him choke, but he forced his throat to relax, and he slowly began taking more of him in. It wasn't exactly easy, but Dean was able to fully encase him in his mouth. He was just thankful the dark angel had allowed him to take his time, and hadn't just shoved himself in like he had done to Sam.
The urge to bite him rose up in him as he remembered the godawful sounds of his brother choking and gagging, but he kept it together, and began to bob his head up and down, sucking forcefully.
When he took his balls into his left hand and began squeezing gently, a groan left Lucifer.
"Oh, you're certainly good at this," Lucifer breathed. He went on, his words interspersed with breathy moans, "S-see, Sam's… Sam's good too... when he wants to be, but the difference between you two is that you... actually like men." A growl tore from his throat when Dean pulled back till just the tip was in his mouth and he licked over his slit, flicking it with his tongue. With his left hand he now pumped him. "Our little Sammy doesn't."
Anger surged through his gut at Lucifer using the possessive, and for saying his brother's nickname, but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
"Here," Lucifer said, grabbing hold of his right wrist. "Use both hands."
Dean looked at him questioningly, and it terrified him that his face was too blurry to properly read his expression.
He pulled him from his mouth.
"But…"
"I know you're injured, but I'm sure you can do it. You'll do it for Sammy, right?"
For Sam, he told himself as he let Lucifer guide his other hand to his swollen balls.
Some of his blood got on him, and Dean cried out as he forced himself to grip him.
"Oh yes!" the Devil cried out. "Mm, I just love blood."
He groaned, and couldn't help but lower his head, doing his best to breathe through the pain. Lucifer tightened his grip on his wrist till he was absolutely positive he'd have bruises from it, and with his other hand he raised his chin up.
"No," he told him sternly. "Remember our little deal."
Fear stabbed through him as an image of the Devil taking his exhausted and wounded brother again entered his mind. A quiet growl left Dean, but he darted out his tongue and started to lick the Devil's cock, moving it around with his left hand so he could touch as much of him as possible. He made sure to keep his gaze upwards as he did so.
His breathing became heavy as the pain in his right hand grew, burning and stabbing and aching. It was so hard to not pull away and tend to his finger, and it was frightening that it was still bleeding. He understand that hands bled a lot, but this was different. He could tell. And despite the abhorrent heat of arousal stabbing through him the upper right side of his body was already beginning to go cold.
When he took him into his mouth again and began to deepthroat him a sound left the Devil that spoke of frustration.
"I… I would just love to wrap my hand around your neck, Dean. B-but I don't think Castiel here - mmph! - would want that."
He doesn't even want any of this, Dean thought, wishing he could tell Lucifer that, wishing that he would listen, that he would stop.
He just wanted all this to stop.
His nails scraped against his scalp as he continued to bob his head up and down, and Lucifer leaned his head back, moaning loudly. His voice was so low from arousal and desire that he most definitely sounded like Cas, and Dean's cock twitched at the sound of his pleasure.
It's not Cas, damn it!
But he felt like Cas, and he looked like Cas, and he sounded like Cas. This was tearing at Dean's heart.
Satan finally pulled back from him, and Dean took in a shaky breath. He did his best to ignore the trail of saliva that still connected them for a bit before dripping down to the floor, mixing with the splatters of blood that were already staining it.
"Ah, that's enough of that."
He got on his knees in front of Dean, and tugged him forward. Their lips met again, and Dean wrapped his arms around him, knowing this was what he wanted from him, knowing that if he didn't comply that Sam could be hurt again.
A groan sounded in the library, but it wasn't from him or from Lucifer. It was from Sam, and it didn't speak of pain.
His stomach twisted, and there was a flash of anger in him, but he knew, he understood… it wasn't Sam's fault that he was aroused from this. It wasn't his fault that the Devil had made sure to leave him hard before moving onto him. None of this was his fault. But still, emotions were shitty, so his anger stayed. And he poured it out through the kiss, even going so far as to tug on Lucifer's bottom lip with his teeth. He crushed Dean against him, one strong hand at his lower back, and it was slowly moving lower. Dean's body throbbed with excitement, and he hated himself.
He breathed in his scent, hating that it was familiar, and opened his mouth to gasp when he felt Lucifer's hand around his cock. And with his eyes closed, it was so easy to believe it was Cas, especially since he didn't hurt him. Yes, he was gripping him tightly, but it was just what Dean would've wanted from Cas. He'd wanted his angel to be rough with him. And it's what Cas must've wanted too. After all, Lucifer was inside his head.
Those thoughts buried their way into his heart like shards of glass, so he pulled himself away from them, trying to focus solely on sensation. It wasn't too hard, really, not when he soon felt Lucifer's own slick, hardened cock against his own, and he had his hand wrapped around both of them, pumping up and down, moving them together.
A shiver ran through him and he arched into him, yearning to be closer, to be touched even more. His wish was soon granted because the hand that had been traveling lower now gripped his ass, and he used his grip to pull him closer, kneading his sensitive flesh.
With his good hand Dean gripped at his jacket and started taking it off. Lucifer licked his tongue into his mouth. Dean tried to kiss back, but the Devil's hand went even lower, and the finger that was now teasing at his hole made it so he couldn't even move. Pleasure tingled through him in a gentle, blissful wave, burning and causing goosebumps to rise up on his skin. His mouth was open as he breathed heavily, and Lucifer took full advantage of that, moaning possessively as he explored him with his tongue. And then he began to claim, swirling his tongue in his mouth, nearly reaching his throat. His finger pushed into him easily since it was slick with Sam's blood and with his own, and he could barely comprehend how good it felt, how good all of this felt.
Dean let himself get lost in it as the Devil fingered his ass and made out with him. He added a second finger, and then a third. And then he found his prostate, pressing against it till Dean was whimpering into his mouth and precum was leaking from his hardened cock.
Lucifer pulled away, licked teasingly at his lips, and then said, "You sound ready for me."
"Just do it," Dean got out.
Oh god, he hated the part of him that wanted this, but that was the part of him that was pretending this was Cas. He didn't want Satan. He wanted his best friend, his angel.
"Oh, I'm going to," he assured him. "Don't you worry. I'm going to take good care of you, Dean. But why don't you finish undressing me first?"
He swallowed roughly and nodded his head. It was difficult to undress him, not that he didn't want to see Cas' body - though this wasn't on Cas' terms - but it was now very difficult to get his right hand moving, to get it to cooperate. The pain was still there, but it was buried beneath cold; a deep, frightening cold. Even more sweat began to coat his skin, and his heart was beating fiercely, and not just from arousal. This was getting dangerous. And now Dean thought of Sam. He must be experiencing similar symptoms. If he was correct, his brother had lost even more blood than him. They were going to need help once the Devil finally finished with them… if they even lived through it.
His hands shook as he continued undressing him, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt once his jacket was off and his tie was hanging loose around his neck.
Lucifer seemed to grow impatient and kicked off his shoes, now lowering his pants even more. He pushed Dean away, and he fell backwards, looking up at him helplessly as he fully undressed himself. And then he was on him, tugging his pants off so that he was just as naked as him, just as naked as Sam.
Dean swallowed roughly, and held his ruined hand to his chest. He chanced looking down at it. It was hard to tell since he was still bleeding, but he thought he saw the white of bone. Maybe it was just his imagination. He hoped that's what it was, but the deep soreness and the throbbing told him otherwise.
Lucifer licked his lips eagerly as he lowered himself to his knees in between Dean's legs.
"You're going to cooperate, right, Dean?"
Fear tightened his already aching throat, a stone forming in his stomach, and he nodded his head.
"Good. Very good."
And then Satan was running his hands up his legs.
"Just so you know, Dean, Sam…" he broke off and laughed. "Sam's touching himself."
He glanced at his brother on pure instinct, but he couldn't see him. There was just a blur of motion, and a grunt left him.
Dean wanted to get up and punch him in the face.
He definitely understood why his brother was doing that, understood it a little too intimately in fact, but that didn't change how embarrassed he felt. Dean wanted to sink through the floor and never be seen again, but the Devil's penetrating gaze was on him, and his skin crawled.
Just… just pretend it's Cas, he told himself. Just pretend it's Cas.
And he did. He lost himself in the eyes that were his angel's even though they weren't quite right. Dean hated himself, wanted to stab himself with the very knife that had nearly took his finger. And that sliver of hatred grew, consuming him as he leaned into the Devil's touch as he turned him on his side, facing Sam.
"There we go," he breathed. "I want Sammy to see your face."
Lucifer lifted up Dean's left leg, exposing him to him, and then he straddled him. A shiver ran through him when he felt him, hard and yearning at his hole. He held him down as he thrusted into him. He didn't do it nearly as quickly as he had with Sam on his first thrust, but he didn't pause either, just sheathing himself in all the way.
It hurt.
And Dean liked it. He even cried out his angel's name, and shame burrowed through him, creating a hole in his chest.
Oh god, why did he have to like it? It wasn't as if he'd wanted this, not like this. Without his consent his body pressed himself into him, and a deep groan emanated from his chest.
Being stretched and filled like this felt so damn good, especially since his confused mind was now telling him it was Castiel.
The Devil… no, his angel, began to take him.
It's just Cas. It's just Cas. It's just Cas. It's no one else. It's no one else!
His injured hand spasmed with pain as his muscles tensed, wanting to grip something, and he reached out with his other hand, grabbing hold of the fingers that were pressing bruises into his skin.
Pleasure raced up his spine, up into his gut, up through his cock. And his body reached for it, craving that over the pain in his finger and his eyes. His mouth was open as he moaned, and now two of Lucifer's fingers were in his mouth. Dean sucked down on them, needing something to ground himself as he was overcome with sensation. The pleasure burned and pounded through him, and the Devil moved powerfully against him, into him, making him hurt, making him feel good. He'd managed to find his prostate and he drove himself against it, leaving Dean a writhing mess beneath him.
And then, something strange happened. His thrusts slowed, his breathing becoming erratic, but not in a way that spoke of him nearing his climax. It spoke of panic.
And then he bowed his head against his cheek, his fingers slipping from his mouth as a tear fell onto his face.
Castiel.
"Dean, I'm so sorry," he spoke in a shuddering voice.
"Me too, Cas. Me too."
"It's not your fault."
Dean tilted his head so that their foreheads were pressed together, and their tears mixed against his skin. Though it hurt, he put his right hand in Cas' hair, stroking him gently. And then he brought their lips together.
His angel didn't pull away.
Castiel began to slowly move against him, being gentle. He felt the despair through his lips, felt the way his angel was being torn apart from this. It was tearing Dean apart too.
Suddenly, Castiel cried out in pain, and he nearly collapsed, his weight resting on Dean.
"Cas? What is it? Is it Lucifer?"
"He's trying to get control," he growled out. "It hurts, Dean! Oh, it hurts!"
"Please," he begged. "Please, don't let him win." His voice came out as a whine and his cheeks reddened in embarrassment.
And then he began to move again, harder than before, but something told Dean this was still Castiel. He moved his hand to his thigh, holding it up as if he was trying to delve deeper into him.
"W-what are you - gah! - what are you doing?"
"He wants this, Dean," he groaned out. "Maybe… maybe if I cooperate he'll let me be. He'll let you be."
Dean's stomach twisted in on itself, and his body tensed. Any pleasure he'd been getting from this was instantly converted into pain.
"No, no! Cas, stop! Please stop!"
More of his angel's tears fell on his face, but he didn't listen to him. Why was he not listening to him? Why was he doing this to him? Why was his best friend hurting him? It felt like a knife had stabbed into his heart, and with each thrust it was twisted, tearing him further and further apart.
"Castiel, stop!"
He didn't.
A cruel laugh left him, followed by a triumphant yell, and Dean knew the Devil had taken control again.
A sharp pain shot through him, and he flinched, wishing with everything he had that he could escape. The dark angel had torn him inside.
If only his body could relax, but it just couldn't. The pain was becoming too much, and pleasure was moving in again, overwhelming his nerves as it seared through him. And he pressed into him even though he didn't want to. He remembered their deal. He had to act like he wanted this.
He no longer did. That sick, twisted part of him that had tried telling him this was Castiel was now silent. The tear inside him had killed it.
And now he knew.
This wasn't Cas. This wasn't his friend.
His body trembled, and he bucked up into the Devil's touch as he grabbed hold of his cock, pumping him, spreading his precum around on his skin.
A cry left him as his body began to move sinuously in time with Satan's. He would press back against him, making him go deeper, making his body full, pressure burying at him, stabbing into him, and then he'd thrust forward, into his hand. He whined when Lucifer began nibbling on his ear, his breath wafting over his skin.
"Do you… like this?" he grunted out.
"No," Dean whimpered. "No."
He chuckled, and then lowered his head, swiping his tongue across his jaw. "Good."
His breath was coming in gasps, and his head was spinning, but he kept moving his body. He was just so desperate to not have Lucifer hurt Sam again, and maybe, maybe if he got him to cum then he wouldn't.
Tingling seemed to take over his body, and there was a war between hot and cold within him, his lack of blood fighting his arousal, fighting his agony. The light seemed to grow brighter, hurting his head, and he squeezed his eyes shut. A cry of pleasure met his ears, and it had come from Sam. Dean growled out in pure shame and frustration and his already flushed cheeks heated even more. Lucifer tilted his head downwards, his tongue delving into his open mouth, making sure Dean knew, that in this moment, he belonged to him.
Light seemed to burst behind his aching eyes, and pleasure ran up his legs, shattering through his entire body. He felt the liquid, sticky heat of his cum landing on his stomach, mixing with his sweat. He screamed, his voice muffled as the Devil pressed their lips together, tongue now reaching the back of his throat. A keening sound left him as Lucifer continued to take him, his movements powerful. In this moment, Dean was so keenly aware of Lucifer's presence inside of him, and every inch of skin where they touched seemed to be over-sensitive. His entire being was burning, this moment being etched into his memory in stark detail.
And he cried because it felt like Castiel.
Just like the dark angel had done with Sam, he continued past his orgasm, holding him down as he tried to writhe away from him. His insides hurt, the pleasure turning into aching pain. And it got worse when Lucifer began to pump him again. Lucifer pulled back, most likely so he could listen to him scream unhindered. And he did. Dean threw his head back, his throat being scraped raw as his voice ripped out of him.
Oh god, he hadn't known that there was anything that could feel like this, that it was possible to be tormented in such a way. And then, the dark angel's movements grew erratic, more fervent, and he thrusted into him even harder.
"Keep screaming, Dean," he begged, his voice impossibly rough and breathy.
He didn't have to be told to do so because he couldn't even stop. His chest was starting to ache from how long he was holding his scream out. And it turned into a wail as he felt Lucifer's cock throb before violently emptying into him. His hand on his cock stilled, but his grip tightened, and he bit down into his shoulder, a cry of his own leaving him.
Dean's breath caught in his throat when he felt his teeth break through his skin, and he just continued to bite deeper, tearing into his muscle. He attempted to breathe, but he only got air in in stuttered gasps.
Lucifer finally stilled, remaining above him for a few seconds, and then he pulled out. Dean whimpered as he rubbed against his sensitive insides.
He let go of him, pulling back, and he was breathing heavily in satisfaction.
Dean didn't open his eyes, didn't want to see the look on his face. He idly wondered if he'd even be able to see the look on his face. What if his vision was still blurry? What if his vision was permanently like this? Whines left him as panic took hold.
Lucifer rose, and Dean could hear him moving around. He was most likely getting dressed again.
"So, boys," he said, his tone awfully casual, "I was thinking of killing you, but then it hit me - leaving you alive would just be so much better. Oh, man, I can't even imagine the trauma you'll have to live with." He giggled, Satan actually giggled. "I bet you'll never fully heal. And now you've probably learned to leave me alone. You know what I'm capable of. I doubt you'll come after me again. If I were you I'd want to stay far, far away. This was great. It really was. I basically just killed three birds with one stone." He sighed. "Now, for the Hand of God. That is what I came here for after all."
Dean heard him walk over to the table the Hand of God had been left on. There was silence, and then: "It's kicked."
Despite how much he hurt, Dean huffed out a laugh. "Well... Who'd have thought the Hand of God would be a one-hitter?"
There was a thud, followed by a clatter, as Lucifer no doubt dropped the Hand of God back on the table. And then he heard his footsteps as he drew closer. Dean prepared to drag himself away.
Then, out of the blue, there was a bright flash of light that Dean could even see through his eyelids, and a whoosh of energy traveled through the air. The Devil screamed.
As Dean slowly opened his stinging eyes, he heard sizzling. There was an angel banishing sigil painted in Sam's blood across the bottom of the pillar nearest his brother. The red light of it died down, and his brother was breathing heavily.
But that wasn't all he noticed.
Lucifer was gone.
