A/N: So, I posted this at my LJ this morning to see how it would run, and it actually turned out well. So now, it's here. Instead of going to bed at a decent hour last night/this morning for school, I decided it was a better idea to stay up till one thirty typing my first PWP fic. So beware, this is my first time and that may show through, but that also means that I gladly encourage constructive criticism. ^^ I felt exceedingly embarrassed writing this, but for some reason I just couldn't get it out of my head. :P This is inspired by Florence and the Machine's Girl With One Eye. I HIGHLY encourage listening to it before/after/during reading! Warnings: Dub-con, crossdressing, marking, boys sexin'- if you don't like, don't read! I warned you! :P
Dean tossed back the dregs of his beer, and motioned towards the bar keep for another before sweeping his gaze throughout the seedy establishment he had taken refuge in for the night. There were a few others like him- unafraid to hide the inky abyss of their eyes in a place like this- but most here were just uninhibited humans with nothing to lose. The club's lighting was kept low, shadows providing a certain anonymity that was greatly appreciated by its inhabitants, and an ever-present curtain of smoke helped to make sure that this den of iniquity came highly recommended for those wishing to keep a low profile. Dean himself sat in an alcoved booth, shaped in a fluid semi-circle, with thick curtains that could be drawn across the entrance for instant privacy. A fresh mug of beer was placed in front of him with shaky hands and a generous amount spilled out around the rim. Dean grit his teeth at the incompetence of the waitress, looking up to properly chew her out, and perhaps get a good scare out of her, but bit back the angry words harshly. Despite the black skirt that ended above the knee clinging to a pair of narrow hips, he found himself faced with a young man, just out of adolescence with a frightened look in his vibrant blue eyes. Dean licked his lips and smirked, giving the man a slow, assessing one-over while the waiter subtly shifted his skirt, constantly switching between puling it down to cover more leg, and up to cover more abdomen. "You spilled my drink darlin'." Dean kept his voice low and gritty, deciding then and there that he was gonna have some fun tonight.
"I-I'm so sorry!" the boy bent over the table, wiping up the liquid with a dingy rag while continuing to apologize profusely. Dean raised an eyebrow and didn't even attempt to hide the looks he was shooting up his skirt, giving an approving hum low in his throat. When the boy noticed this he straightened rigidly, a deep flush spreading across his face as he went through the skirt pulling cycle yet again. Dean bit his lip and searched out the waiter's name tag, plotting out a course of action that would make this- Cas- decidedly less innocent tomorrow than he was right now.
"'S alright sweetie, but I'm afraid I'll need a little…. compensation." Cas looked a little confused until Dean patted his lap lightly, a slow smile spreading across his lips as realization dawned on the other man's face. Cas looked over his shoulder at the bartender, clearly hoping for protection, or at least an out, but got nothing it return. He took a deep breath before gently sitting himself across the demon's legs and placing his hands on his knees. "Now what's someone like you, doing in a sleazy place like this?" Dean picked at the hem of Cas' skirt and tried his most charming smile on the reluctant man. "Though I must say that I can't exactly argue with their choice in uniform."
"I-I just really need the money and flexible hours…" Cas ran his hands through his hair and looked away as Dean slowly started walking his fingers from Cas' knee further and further up. "I d-don't think-" Cas' face burned as Dean's hand slipped under the fabric and kept sliding. "I don't think you're supposed to touch-" Cas gasped as Dean raked his fingernails down the inside of his thigh before starting back up. "We're not that kind of place…" Cas pulled the skirt as far down as he could manage, face red, knees pressed firmly together.
"Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise it won't hurt-" Dean bared his teeth as he carefully, but firmly pulled Cas' legs apart, "-much." Dean pushed his newest prey deeper into the booth while closing the curtains and finally pressing his palm against Cas' thinly clothed crotch. "Mmm, somehow I just knew a guy like you would be wearing lace." Dean stroked the other man roughly while grazing his teeth along his collar bone- taking delight in the quiet whimpers that bubbled up from beneath the surface. He continued to grip and pull, feeling his own boxers begin to grow tight, but made no move to change the pace or dynamics. He was going to take this nice and slow- drag this man to the breaking point and revel in the rush as he tipped over the edge.
The music was low and smooth, a pretense of class gilding the obvious purpose of this bar that smelled of sex, sweat, and sin. Nightly Cas found himself wondering just how he had found himself a diligent college student by day and a cross dressing waiter by night. Being disowned by his overly religious family had seemed freeing at first, but only transferred him from one form of imprisonment to the other. He had been left penniless, with no prior job experience, and more bills to pay than he had thought possible. The owner of this place had taken one, excruciatingly perverse look at him and he was hired on the spot. Until now, he had never had more trouble than he could manage. But the second that dangerous, arrogant demon had walked into the bar, he knew that tonight could be a whole different situation.
And now he found himself squirming beneath his captor, trying to will away the arousal that was creeping throughout his system. The man was actually quite attractive and, as Cas noted when his eyes blew wide with stimulation, very skilled. But that didn't change the fact that he was pressed into a pleather seat, covered in only God knows what, while a demon's sly fingers found their way beneath the pair of panties he'd been quite embarrassed to have bought as a necessary part of his uniform. As Dean nipped a particularly sensitive space of skin somewhere between his shoulder and chest- that he didn't know could be manipulated in such a way- he found himself unable to keep in the breathy moan that passed his lips. A low chuckle rumbled through Dean's frame as he sat back on his haunches- a dangerous gleam to his black eyes and a strange, meticulous design in each of his movements.
Castiel closed his eyes tightly as he felt the cheap skirt being lifted and tucked beneath his back, before the surprisingly sensuous slide of his panties being tugged to his knees. He heard the distinct pop of a button and slide of a zipper in the strenuous calm that followed, before he felt a hot breath between his legs and calloused fingers gripping his hips. He gasped at the wet, teasing nips that followed- not able to make much distinction between the alternating jolts of pain and pleasure. A thin sheen of sweat ran across his body as the agonizingly slow pace continued on, Dean spending copious amounts of time at every inch of his skin, switching easily between coy discovery and aggressive adventuring. Cas was made aware of places and kinks he hadn't known he'd possessed, attempting to quell the growing desire burning deep in his gut as his mind continued to tell him that he should be ashamed and repulsed.
Dean could tell that Cas was close- his body writhing beneath him, his words no longer making sense, and his pupils blown with lust. Dean moved past simple foreplay and pushed two spit slicked fingers deep into the other man's heat, grinning triumphantly as this new intrusion drew profanities from Cas' mouth. He worked the man slowly, his own bites growing harsh as he began to mark the flawless skin laid out before him. They'd been here longer than he'd anticipated and he still hadn't had enough of the person beneath him, so he altered his plans minutely, making sure that he would be leaving behind a proper claim for all of this man's future encounters. He finished a particularly vicious mark just beneath Cas' jaw just before he felt the subtle shift in Cas' demeanor, telling that he had begun the downward spiral which would inevitably end in a beautifully excruciating crash-landing of an climax.
Dean quickly began pulling at his own erection, leaning back to get a better view of what was about to happen. Cas' back arched, his breath catching harshly in his throat as his hands clawed at the seat beneath him. Then he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood as his eyes blew open and locked on Dean's. There was a brief flash of terror when he peaked, painfully aware of the state he was in, and that was what sent Dean plummeting over the side with him. Dean growled low and possessive as he spilled all over the other man's skin and clothes, breathing into Cas' ear over and over again, "Mine." For several long moments neither of them moved- breathing heavy and clinging to each other. Dean waited patiently until he had finally ridden out the aftershocks, and tucked himself back inside his jeans before standing back to admire the fruits of his labor.
Cas laid limp across the booth, looking raw and broken, but without a single tear track along his face. Dean licked his lips and took a long draft from the remaining amount beer that had managed to stay inside the mug on the table during their 'activities.' He liked this kid- could see the strength and determination that lay quiet beneath his skin. Carefully he grabbed Cas by the wrists and pulled him close, tugging the ruined panties off his legs and pulling the skirt back down to cover some of the damage. As an afterthought he stuffed the undergarments in his pocket and gave the kid his jacket in a strange kind of trade. Cas' eyes had returned to the questioning blue of before, his hair looked as though it was permanently pressed into a sex swept craze, and Dean suspected his voice was even deeper and more wrecked than before (if that was even possible).
He was quite proud of his impromptu marking, and was certain no one would dare come within twenty feet of his claim with anything even remotely resembling questionable motives. Dean let his eyes flash back to green as he guided Cas out through the curtains and to the back of the bar. "You're mine now, you understand?" He received a shaky nod and uncertain gaze before continuing on. "People will know not to mess with you, and I think you know better than to try and lose me, right darlin'?" Cas nodded again slowly, eyeing Dean's stolen trophy a little differently now, knowing that he could easily be tracked with the amount of pheromones he had left on those. He stepped forward uncertainly, eyes on the ground, before placing a chaste kiss on Dean's lips before slipping behind a door marked Employees Only. Dean decided that he really liked that kid, a smirk tugging at his lips as he turned to the exit, pressing the lace to the tip of his nose and inhaling lightly. And he'd have plenty of time to get to know him properly.