Warning - suggestion of non-consensual activity. This is just a drabble I wrote for a friend. It's been on my mind for ages! I only watched this episode once, so I'm sorry for any inaccuracies. Full of my own kinks (Angry/top!Cas, biting, scratching, etc.) It's the first time I've written Supernatural so any friendly constructive criticism or comments are welcome. Thanks for the continued support!

Mirelle


Dean's stomach turns to ice as an angel's voice calls out behind him, low and angry like thunder. It isn't the voice of Cas, the weird outcast younger brother of the Devil, but Castiel, the terrifyingly strong angel of the Lord.

Before he has time to react, to run from the powerful being as his every instinct tells him to, Dean is slammed against a brick wall. He sees stars.

"I rebelled for this?!" Castiel snarls. The stars dissolve to make way for nausea as Castiel punches him right in the side of the head. Twice. Dean tastes the familiar tang of blood.

"So that you could surrender to them?" Castiel's anger ripples in his eyes, two great tempestuous pools into which Dean doesn't dare to dive right now. Two solid, dangerous hands grip Dean's collar and drag him across the small alley. A fist ploughs into his guts and all of the air is forced from his lungs.

He manages to choke out, "Cas … please …" Blood drips from his mouth, and all he wants is for Castiel to stop, to knock him out and take him back to Bobby's. A verbal scolding from Bobby would be easier to handle than this physical projection of Cas's disgust.

Castiel isn't finished. He grabs hold of Dean again. The hunter quails, his eyes flicking down to the splash of his own blood on Cas's shirt. As he's rammed back against the opposite wall, stars flicker in front of his eyes again.

A harsh growl bursts from Castiel. "I fell in love with you-"

Dean exhales involuntarily, a line of blood dripping from his mouth. At last, he can't stop himself from meeting Castiel's eyes, and his stomach gives an almighty jolt as the words register.

Castiel's eyes always seem to Dean to be the full, entire sky. They fill with rain or sunlight when Cas wants to twist Dean's arm about something. Right now, they're dark with emotion, but the clouds clear for a split second as Cas realises what he's said. But the clouds are back as Castiel continues to spit out his revulsion.

"I gave everything for you, and this is what you give to me?"

Guilty tears prick Dean's eyes, the fury in Cas's voice cracking with the force of the betrayal he feels. Overcome, he draws his arm back and punches Dean again, then kicks him in the abdomen with such power that he flies into the mesh of the fence behind him and falls to the floor.

Dean hurts all over. He spits some blood onto the floor when he can draw breath, but in his mind all he can see is the brightness in Cas's eyes. I fell in love with you … As he realises the extent of his actions towards Castiel, Dean feels the sharp, relentless claws of Shame grab his heart, trying to rip it from his chest.

He gazes up at Castiel – Castiel, who rebelled against Heaven, who gave up his powers and his privileges to be there for Dean and the brother he holds so dear – with imploring, apologetic eyes.

"Do it," he shouts, desperate for a final blow to come to end this deserved ordeal, for Castiel to just end him. "Just do it!"

Castiel stares at him, blankly though the emotion bubbles just below the surface. After a short internal battle, something more human than angel within him wins. He reaches down slowly to Dean and grasps him by the collar again, dragging him up to his feet and leaning him against the mesh of the fence.

Whether he's seen the regret written all over Dean's face, Dean can't tell, but relief washes over him as Castiel's expression softens to a more familiar, slightly apprehensive Cas-face. He comes close up to Dean's face again, and Dean's stomach twinges with the fear that he's about to be beaten up again, but he merely touches Dean's cheek with a gentle, dangerous hand.

"Ok, Dean," he murmurs, his voice low and still far from placid. He presses his palm firmly against Dean's hip to turn him around and, unsure, Dean complies, until he's facing away. Castiel breathes on his neck.

An angelic hand slides over a human hip.

Understanding causes a rush of blood to Dean's cheeks. To save an inexperienced Cas from fumbling, he frees himself of his jeans then slides his fingers through the loops of the fence. He can hear Cas breathing heavily behind him, fabric rustling, something squelching and his own pulse hard in his ears. He's suddenly aware that his eardrums aren't the only throbbing part of his anatomy. The beginning of a warm erection means that the cold night-time breeze will go ignored for now.

Cas's cold hand, slick with whatever he's just spread onto his fingers, raises goosebumps on Dean's back as it slides beneath the waistband of his underwear. It slips down to the puckered muscle that is the angel's goal, one finger pressing gently against it until it gives in and allows entry.

Dean's breath comes out in a juddering rumble of surprise at the pleasant pressure against his nerves.

"Is this ok?" whispers Cas – the uncertain virgin rather than the all-powerful angel. Dean's eyelids flicker shut as he nods his response. Lowering his chin to rest his forehead against the fence, he spits blood onto the floor. Cas moves his finger a little before forcing in another. Dean gasps at the slight pain, but can't stop his hand drifting down to rub his growing erection.

"No," Castiel snaps, and wrenches Dean's fingers away with his free hand. Gripping the fence, Dean makes a small grunt out of frustration more than anything, and gives in to Castiel's control.

His ribs hurt, his head is pounding and he feels like his cheekbone is shattered, but the pain is eased by the pleasure pulsing through his body.

Too soon, the fingers retreat. Dean opens his eyes and raises his gaze to the stars, hardly aware that he's panting. Suddenly he can feel the icy nip of the breeze on his flushed face.

Before he has time to recover from the unexpected turn of events, his body is yielding to another pressure, rounder and hotter than the two fingers. Dean hisses in pain. The stretching hurts but the warm, firm pressure touches somewhere in Dean that sends shivers through his very soul.

As Castiel eases further into him, Dean can feel his fingernails lightly digging into his skin, his hot, shallow breath on his neck and, eventually, the soft brush of hair and skin when there's no more to take in. His heart is racing with the effort of fighting the urge to move his hips and guide Castiel to the place inside him where the pressure is so needed.

"Jimmy's wife was a very lucky woman," Dean murmurs, half smiling to himself as Cas chuckles in spite of himself. The movement hits the right spot and Dean loses his resolve. He starts working his hips forwards and backwards, which sets Castiel off thrusting to counter him. For a while they're lost in the sensation of it all, Cas resting his chin on Dean's shoulder, Dean leaning over slightly so he can reach.

"You've been watching too much porn," Dean gasps when Castiel drags his fingernails across Dean's belly. He doesn't laugh this time, but grabs Dean's wrists to stop him from touching himself again. Pressing his wrists against the fence, Cas draws another frustrated groan from Dean. He takes the skin of Dean's neck between his teeth as he increases his pace, his breath coming in high-pitched whimpers now, almost mewing.

Dean is beginning to feel the damage to his body now, the sharp bite-suck on his neck bringing pain to his attention. Apart from the tightness in his belly and the dizziness coming from the realisation of Cas's feelings towards him, Dean doesn't feel good.

"Cas …" he begins, meaning to beg the angel to stop, but hearing his name falling from Dean's lips is too much for the virginal angel. (And let's face it, Dean will think later, he did well for his first time.)

"Say it again," he breathes into Dean's ear. The neck skin he releases turns angry red and Dean's hands twitch beneath Cas's grip as he longs for friction.

"Castiel," Dean obeys, adding venom to the name in his frustration.

Castiel moans in a way that's more sinfully erotic than anything Dean has ever heard, and the moan turns into a shout as he reaches the climax of his assault. After a few seconds, he's leaning against Dean's back, his chest rising and falling deeply as he kisses and nips Dean's neck, torn between the affectionate after-glow and the urge to punish. He separates himself from Dean's body and tidies his clothing. Before Dean has a chance to even turn around, Castiel renders him unconscious with a touch from an angelic, dangerous finger.

For Dean's dignity's sake, Cas redresses him before transporting him to Bobby's.

Bobby and Sam stare at the bloodied, unconscious and erect Dean in Cas's arms.

"What the Hell happened to him?"

"Me."