Dean laughed and licked the small cut in the bridge of Castiel's nose. He smirked to the black eyes that looked up at him. "You taste sweeter today."
Castiel smiled, solid white eyes gleaming down at him. His master. "I drank an orphan."
"Little boy or little girl?" Dean threw him back onto the floor, beginning to remove his own clothing.
Castiel watched, not moving from his place on the ground. "Little boy, tall, long brown hair."
Dean stilled from unbuckling his belt and his head turned, white eyes once again meeting black. His face broke into a wide grin, teeth looking razor sharp in his human mouth. He used a flash of power to arrange Castiel just as he wanted him, on his back, head elevated from the floor at a shallow angle, arms thrown out at his sides. His belt was undone, his fly unzipped and his boxers exposed.
A low, sadistic chuckle shook his chest as he kept grinning. "You sure know how to start with the sweet talk, don't you?" He looked at Castiel's eyes, they were looking pointedly at his groin. "You want it?" Castiel nodded.
The angel had fallen, become human for him and then they both went to hell when they died. Most of Heaven had fallen into such disarray that neither of them were cared about by the Host. The only who'd cared when they died was Sam, but he kept going and eventually made it to Heaven. Over the centuries that passed on Earth, Dean gave in yet again and began torturing. Castiel followed him, just like he'd always done. Their souls frayed and fractured before turning and twisting. Crowley was disturbed by both of them, especially as Dean rose in power and surpassed Alistair. When he'd tried to deal with Dean, Castiel had stepped in quickly, surprising everyone in showing that his status as a former angel had given him some advantages over the others. His grace had become gnarled, many thought it destroyed when he became human for Dean. But no, it was simply… misplaced, let's say. So, with Castiel's grace being mutated and deformed, he was much more powerful than he had any right to be. He killed Crowley and everyone looked to him as the new ruler of Hell. He named Dean.
So what did Dean do as his first act? He tore away the eternal line Crowley had settled for (seriously lacking in creativity, don't you agree?) and walked up to Lucifer's cage, which still held the corrupted archangel and Michael. Lucifer approached the side of the cage, curiosity drifting from him like a thick fog. "What do you want, Dean?" His voice was deafening, but Dean could tolerate it. Castiel more so but he was a former angel, after all.
"I would like to make you an offer, Sir." Dean had been the Righteous Man, the one who helped stop the apocalypse. As a demon he was ruthless, things like his sarcasm and violent tenacity put to an extreme. He was the most feared torturer and the most powerful demon simply because he didn't care what it took. The only demon he showed any kind of favor was Castiel. But that was simply because Castiel was compliant, submissive and just as twisted as his master.
"Oh? Now isn't this an interesting development?" Michael sat somewhere in the background, trying to shout and banish Dean.
Dean smirked and pulled an archangel's blade from behind his back. "I would like to offer you this, to dispose of your brother and I would ask for an alliance. I know you don't think highly of us demons, but I know you'd like your freedom and Earth is still up there, crawling with humans."
Lucifer stilled, turning his head so two of the faces were turned to see Dean and examine him. "Yes?"
"All I ask is that I be allowed to remain in power and that demons be allowed to cause a bit of terror on Earth here and there. Do what you will above, and we will do as we are below. Truth be told you and your brother create quite a ruckus and I'd love this to be my new office space. So I'll be destroying the cage once you leave." Dean didn't mention how he wanted to display Michael's body like a trophy on the doorstep, he didn't want to push Lucifer's patience and good grace too far.
"Give me a few thousand as a parting gift and you will have your deal. Sealed with a kiss, if you like." Dean smirked and nodded.
"I'll give you twenty-three thousand. Is that acceptable?" Dean knew it was far more than Lucifer would have expected from the opening offer, but he was good with negotiations and he didn't particularly want to chance angering Lucifer by seeming stingy. Better to be generous when it was easily possible to regain the losses.
"That is more than enough, Dean." Lucifer smiled wretchedly and Michael seemed to sense the end, he stiffened as he witnessed the transaction, helpless to actually do anything.
Dean handed the blade to Lucifer and put up one hand for a shield over his eyes when Michael's grace went off like a bomb. He broke the cage apart around Lucifer, drawing on Castiel's power for aid, who then shifted his shape to look exactly like Sam had when he was alive. He kissed Dean, grabbing his body greedily while Castiel ground his jaw and waited for it to end.
When the kiss ended Dean smiled. "Nice use of tongue."
Lucifer barked out a loud, almost joyous laugh. "You have been such a good son, Dean. You know what? I'll give you and Castiel your original bodies as gifts. They'll be topside, in a coma and you can possess them and play all you like. But, one thing first." Dean's head tilted, he detected no malice from the father of all demons, just the opposite actually. Lucifer's distorted grace ran muddy with colors that displayed how pleased and impressed he was. "I want Meg. She's still alive, isn't she?"
Dean grinned widely. "Of course, she was one of the first friends I made. Meg! Come down here, someone would like to see you!" Dean's voice boomed through the walls of Hell, reaching every corner. One of perks of being the boss, people knew when you were calling for them.
Meg appeared in the middle of them, her body the same it was all that time ago, wavy brown hair and pretty, round face. She looked at Lucifer and gasped, running up to embrace him. He took her in gladly. "The only child I had ever loved." He told Dean, though it was clearly implied that she was now not alone on that list. Dean had more than proven his loyalty and Castiel had killed Crowley.
Just as Lucifer promised, their old bodies were laying in a clearing near where Dean was originally raised. His body no longer had the anti-possession symbol on the chest, though. They entered and quickly sealed themselves within. The world still had hunters, after all and Dean was a wanted demon in high demand.
So now Dean and Castiel played on the surface of the planet they once lived on. The world had been all but destroyed by a man-made apocalypse even before he set Lucifer free and the smell of death was always sweet in his nose. White eyes glimmered with amusement as the broken angel looked at him hungrily. "If you want it then come get it. I know you can break free, Cas." His tone was all at once suggestive and a command.
Castiel's lips curled into a sickening smile and he leaped forward, yanking the grey slacks Dean had been wearing down and away from his body. The dark boxers were still on and he nuzzled his master's groin, worshiping his still-soft cock. Castiel liked this the most, when Dean would make him work for it. He knew he was Dean's only favorite and he knew Dean only took him to bed. Castiel could remember the first time he picked up a blade in Hell. Dean had begged him, told him he'd help him. He'd been resistant, the holy angel act had been a tough one to break.
Then he was up he was given the soul of a rapist. Dean informed him to start with the face and chest. Never with the groin, that was predictable and made them bleed too fast. If the session started with the groin then some of the worst pain was out of the way and that was no way to start. He'd touched a white-hot blade to the man's nose, listening to the skin crackle beneath it as Dean laughed and he felt a thick hardness press into the crack of his ass. That was when he realized that he could do this. For Dean, for himself, to show Heaven how they failed him. His existence from then on became about his service and worship of Dean. He could clearly remember the day they got a hateful, spiteful Christian man who'd killed his gay son. They both tortured him, taking the shape of the man and his son and fucking in front of him.
He cried, screamed, cursed them and it only made the two of them laugh harder and louder. Once he'd been tossed off the rack Dean had taken Castiel to a slightly secluded corner and fucked him again. It still amazed Castiel that Dean hadn't tried to remove the mark of his hand from his own soul. He'd asked before when he'd been pleasuring Dean. The response he got was a cock down his throat and a soft smile. He said it was a badge of honor to wear the mark of an angel as a demon. Angels were greatly feared and Dean had a fallen angel for a guard dog with the mark to prove it.
Castiel dug his nails into Dean's hips, loving the way his master chuckled. "Always so eager to please me, aren't you Cas?"
"Yes, Dean." He kissed and nuzzled Dean through his boxers.
"Who is your God, Castiel?" Dean's fingers ran through his hair, pulling his head back to force him to make eye contact. He could feel blood still running down his face, a bit of it smeared at the side of his mouth.
"You are, Dean. You are my God and my purpose. I serve only you." Dean smiled, his cock finally hardening before he let go and walked over to a chair, Castiel following without needing to be told.
He let his boxers fall down as he walked, stepping out as he turned to sit, legs open wide. One finger tapped at his thigh, motioning for Cas to get down and get started. Always one to do as he was told, Castiel knelt down and began to kiss and lick all over Dean's skin. His fingers deftly stroked his master's balls, causing him to purr. His tongue swirled around the head as he basked in the smile Dean kept giving him. He knew he was a good little demon, always a good slave for his master.
One hand continued working downward toward his master's hole, the other wrapping around his shaft to add more sensation to the ministrations of the pliant mouth working him over. Dean moaned, his mouth falling open as his legs spread wider, a smile still tugging at his lips. He smiled so much more as a demon than he did as a human. His hands worked their way into black hair, shoving Cas' head down to the base of his need as he smirked at the lack of complaint. Some demons liked the lower ranking subs to put up a bit of a fight. They enjoyed the pretense of needing to break them further, but not Dean. This was what he liked. Only Castiel, who would do anything he wanted however he wanted it.
He rose to his feet, both hands tangled into the black hair to keep the mouth on him rooted. Once he was standing straight he began to roll his hips, fucking Castiel's face. The mouth around him relaxed, jaw going slack and throat opening. He groaned and growled, laughing loudly with pleasure from the amount of submission he was shown. "You sweet little slut. You always open so easily." Dean's head fell back, a smile remaining on his lips while his eyes closed and his hips rolled forward and back, almost as if he was dancing.
Castiel's fingers played on his skin, rubbing his ass and balls as well as his back. The brand on his thigh that kept him being exorcised from his body was tickled by those eager little fingers. Dean pulled out, Castiel's head trying to move forward, shamelessly trying to recapture his cock. His master laughed cruelly and slapped him as he held him back. Castiel's tongue darted out to flick at the head, giving him a pleasant buzz and a power trip. "Ooh, so greedy and needy. My cock is dripping in your spit and you just want to soak it more, don't you?" Castiel moaned and nodded, black eyes pleading desperately. "You want to swallow me, Cas? You want to taste my come on your tongue and feel it run down your throat? That what you want?"
"Yes, please, Dean, please." His voice was breaking from his need, his own erection was probably becoming painful and Dean loved the fact that once he came down his personal slut's throat, he could order him to fuck him and give him another orgasm. Castiel seemed to love getting that order. Even if Dean didn't let him come, he just seemed to enjoy being inside.
Dean slammed back down Castiel's waiting throat, causing him to choke for a moment before he recovered. His balls rubbed against Cas' chin as he relentlessly thrust in and out, working to his release. The last straw was when the little black eyed bitch below him hummed and moaned while grabbing his ass. He was practically singing a fucking hymn to the feel of Dean's cock pushing into him. Glass shattered around them, lights bursting as Dean yelled Castiel's name, burying himself deep into the greedy throat that swallowed him. His own hands fell away, he didn't need to hold Cas close, Cas was hugging his hips and suckling on him like he was a pacifier.
His cock didn't soften, not anymore since he wasn't human. He threaded his fingers into black hair once again and pulled away, still thick and hard as he rocked himself back and forth to swipe across swollen, abused lips. A tentative kitten lick caught a stray drop and he grinned widely, fingers pulling tight enough to yank hair out of Cas' scalp. "That's my good little Seraph." He yanked the other man to his feet with one hand, excitement dancing in black eyes. Upon his emergence as a demon Castiel had asked Dean what he should call himself. He didn't want to be the demon Castiel, that reeked of laziness and Dean agreed. Dean named him the demon Seraphim, Seraph in casual conversation. Dean himself decided that even if it wasn't the creative route, using his human last name was a good way to go. Winchester was a name hunters dreaded hearing when they found and interrogated demons. "Let's go reward my little Seraph, shall we?"
Dean smacked him roughly on the face a few times, kissing him as blood-streaked cheeks spread into a wide smile and a loose tooth sent blood trickling into his mouth. He was such an eager little thing.