Summary: Castiel is cast down from Heaven, he runs into Dean Winchester and an unhealthy relationship ensues. Slash. Dean/Castiel.
A/N: This is my first story and I don't know yet if it will be a one-shot. Please let me know if you like it/don't like it or if there are any spelling/grammar problems. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters
Warning: Rated M for a reason
Castiel walked down the silent street, contemplating what he should do next. It was dark and starting to get cold, and he didn't like the look of the clouds gathering above the small town he'd been dumped in.
Earlier that day he'd lost his grace. Well, lost wasn't really the right word, in truth it had been ripped from him by his Father and he doubted he'd ever get it back. It had all been a misunderstanding really, he had been following orders passed on by Uriel, how was he to know those orders hadn't come from God? Of course, God wasn't exactly known for forgiving mistakes, even if Castiel hadn't known he was making them.
It probably hadn't helped that Castiel had been demoted to working under Uriel only a few weeks earlier because of his attraction to (and love of) Dean Winchester. Angels weren't supposed to get attached to humans, especially not humans they were supposed to be guiding. It tended to cloud their judgement.
So now, after several hours of wandering the dusty streets of this dead end, one horse town, Castiel was cold, tired, covered in dust, and hungry; and he expected pretty soon he would be adding wet to that list. Of course he'd passed by a motel in his wanderings, but when he asked for a room the large man behind the counter refused to give him one without either a credit card number or a deposit. Castiel didn't even have a piece of ID on him, and after also being refused service at the diner he was starting to wish he'd taken his vessels wallet when he possessed him.
Just as the rain started to drip down he heard a familiar sound of an old engine coming up the road. Looking up, he was just in time to see an old impala drive by, and got a quick glimpse of the driver – Dean Winchester.
He couldn't believe his luck – of all the one horse towns in the US, he just happened to end up in the one Dean and Sam Winchester happened to be. Of course it probably wasn't luck, more likely his Father had planned this. But he wasn't really in the mood to thank Him just now.
When he arrived back at the motel just after 11pm he didn't see the impala parked among a half dozen other vehicles. He went to the reception area to ask if Sam and Dean were in, but of course even if they had stopped here they wouldn't have used their real names and Castiel had no idea what alias they were currently using. The man behind the counter recognized him from earlier, and was suspicious of this unshaven, dirty man who had passed the motel half a dozen times throughout the day and who didn't have any money, so suggested he leave before there was an incident. Castiel left quickly.
Not knowing which of the dozens of rooms the boys might be in if they even were here, and not wanting to annoy the man behind the counter further by sticking around knocking on doors, Castiel hit the road again in the hopes he would find the impala parked outside a restaurant or gas station but knowing there was a better chance that the boys had just been passing through town. Perhaps this was even further punishment – God getting Castiel's hopes up just to knock him down again.
But that didn't appear to be Gods plan, and Castiel was starting to wonder if God had any plan in mind at all when He sent him here or if it actually had just been chance, because within half an hour he saw the car again – this time parked outside a busy looking bar in a crowded parking lot.
As soon as he entered the bar he felt uneasy. The place was packed and without his grace he wouldn't be able to spot a demon that was trying to blend in, plus the look the bouncer gave him when he'd entered hadn't exactly been reassuring.
He started walking around searching for the Winchesters when, watching the tables more than where he was going, he bumped into a waitress with a tray of drinks. The following smash of breaking glass seemed ten times louder to him than it probably was and he instantly had the feeling all eyes were on him. Apologizing profusely, he reached down to help the girl up just as he felt a hand close on his shoulder. It was the bouncer, and he didn't look impressed.
Moments later Castiel was propelled out of the bar by the bouncer and found himself alone once again in the parking lot beside Dean's car, now drenched in beer, his cloths ruffled.
He hadn't spotted either of the boys inside and eventually settled on waiting by the impala, knowing that eventually they would return to it and hoping it would happen before morning. The rain was coming down harder now and the cool wind was starting to make him shiver.
He leaned against the vehicle for a while, but he had been walking all day and his legs were tired so after almost an hour of waiting he resigned himself to his fate of waiting in the cold all night long and slumped down beside the car, leaning against the passenger side door.
Dean and Sam were passing through Arizona on the way to a case in Texas where there had been half a dozen deaths in the last three months. It was a straightforward sounding case but Sam had insisted, and while Dean expected it was because Sam wanted to make sure he was okay after his tour in Hell, he didn't really care.
Just before 11 Sam fell asleep and Dean, the night owl of the family, decided to go see if there was anyone worth picking up at the bar.
A couple hours later and Dean had determined there was not in fact anyone in the bar both pretty enough and desperate enough to sleep with him so he'd settled into a back booth with a beer and an order to his waitress to 'keep them coming'.
The high point of his night was when some drunken idiot crashed into one of the waitresses, resulting in spilled drinks and the sound of shattering glass. A smirk crossed his face as the pour sap was removed from the bar by the bouncer; he just wished he'd been closer to the incident so he could see the look on the guys face as he was tossed out.
Just over an hour later last call had come and gone and Dean paid up and, stumbling slightly, left the bar. He was looking forward to the walk home, the fresh air after drinking almost always resulted in a deep sleep – no nightmares tonight. Sammy wouldn't be happy that they'd have to walk the half hour to pick up the car the next morning, but it was better than driving back drunk.
Castiel jerked awake as he heard a large group of people leaving the bar, and it took him a moment to remember why he was sitting on the ground in the rain covered in dirty, crumpled clothing.
The slam of the impala's door behind him brought everything back into focus and he quickly jumped up and turned to see Dean, coat in hand, glaring at him.
Not knowing what to do under such a chilling glare, he simply said "Hello, Dean".
It was chilly outside so Dean went to grab his coat from the back seat of his car. Opening the rear driver side door and leaning down he realized just how much he'd had to drink and took a moment for the fog in his head to clear before grabbing his coat and straightening up again.
Standing on the other side of the car, apparently appearing out of thin air as per usual, was the angel, Castiel. Of course, he thought, it was just like the angel to show up at 2am when Dean was drunk and a half hours pleasant walk away from his motel room to give him some ridiculous lecture on how he was supposed to be stopping the apocalypse.
So Dean did what came naturally to him in this type of situation: he glared.
"Hello, Dean".
"What do you want, Cas?" Dean asked with more than a hint of annoyance in his voice.
"I need your help."
"What now?" Dean waited for the lecture, or at least and explanation, but when he didn't get one after a moment he started looking more closely at the angel. He was soaking wet which seemed weird because it had stopped raining before Dean left the bar, and he looked dirty and dishevel, something Dean had never seen before.
His glare was replaced by confusion. Truthfully he'd never seen Castiel anything less than perfectly turned out. But now his tan trench coat was covered in dirt and mud and was very rumpled, his shoes were scuffed, his hair was mussed and looked like it could use a decent shampoo, and his shirt had several large stains down the front.
But the biggest difference was the look on Castiel's face. He rarely looked anything but neutral, perhaps a little stressed sometimes, but now he was far from neutral, though Dean couldn't quite place the expression. Somewhere halfway between determined and pathetic, Dean thought.
Castiel waited until Dean had taken in his appearance before continuing, "I… I was cast down from Heaven. And…" A moments pause while Castiel looked at his mud covered shoes, "I'm cold and hungry. Please help?" He now looked Dean straight in the eyes, tilting his head to one side slightly as he waited for an answer.
Dean suddenly recognized the look on Castiel's face. It was one he'd seen countless times in Hell. It was the delicious combination of terrified confusion seen on the faces of the newest victims who felt so completely out of their element when they were new to Hell.
At first Dean found souls with that expression the hardest ones to torture, they took everything so personally and they screamed at the smallest things. It was much easier to hurt the ones that had been tortured in Hell for so long they'd learnt to retreat inside themselves so the physical torment still hurt, but the emotional part could be ignored. Eventually though, after Dean learned to enjoy inflicting pain, he had found the new ones were the most entertaining. They were so vulnerable and pathetic. You could still convince them you didn't want to hurt them, that you were going to be their friend. Then just as their trust has built up and they start feeling safe around you, you turn. You rip them down, tearing them limb from limb and leaving them in a broken pile behind you.
And here, standing in front of him, was Castiel. The angel who had waited for Dean to start enjoying himself before pulling him out of Hell. Castiel. All powerful. Sexy. Reduced to begging for food and a place to sleep. Helpless Castiel, completely at Dean's mercy.
This was going to be fun.
Castiel saw the momentary surprise on Dean's face, followed by a brief flash of a look that he didn't recognize or like, before returning to the initial surprise. "Okay," Dean said, "let's go get something to eat." He took Castiel by the arm and led him towards an all-night diner beside the bar.
While they ate, Castiel told his sad story of how he had ended up in this mess, carefully skipping over the part where he was in love with Dean. He didn't know how the man would take it and right now he couldn't risk getting on his bad side.
"We'll get this all straightened out, don't you worry." Dean said as they were leaving the diner, "We'll call Bobby first thing in the morning to see if he knows anything about getting an angel his juice back, and you can hang out with Sam and I for as long as you want." He smiled, joking, "You get the couch though!"
Castiel was feeling much better now that he was with Dean. Not only was his stomach full but he was looking forward to the promised night safe and dry on the couch of the motel. Plus Dean was still a little drunk and off balance so he kept brushing up against Castiel and the contact sent warmth spreading through his body.
About half way to the hotel, Dean grabbed Castiel's arm and pulls him over into a back alley saying, "Hey Cas, come here. There's something I want to show you."
As they went further down the alley Castiel wondered what could possibly be of enough interest to delay their arrival at a warm place to sleep when Dean suddenly moved towards him, pushing him against the wall and pinning his hands loosely at his sides. After just a moments hesitation giving Castiel a chance to see the lust in his eyes, Dean captures the angels lips in his own.
Castiel let out a moan as fireworks exploded in his head. He arched his back against the wall grinding his hips against Deans, loving the trapped feeling between the hard brick wall and Dean's hard, well-muscled body.
As quickly as the kiss started, it ended. Dean jerked back, his gaze darting towards the entrance of the alley then down to his feet before back at Castiel who was flushed and panting against the wall, a tent in the front of his trousers showing Dean just how much he was enjoying this.
"Dean" the name came out as a breath of air, a mixture of confusion and longing.
"I shouldn't have done that. Sorry Cas." Dean moved toward the entrance of the alley, hoping the angel will take the bait.
Castiel lunged forward, grabbing Dean's arm causing him to spin around and face the angel. "Please, Dean." The confusion had left his voice, now it was full only of desire.
"We shouldn't do this Cas, you're an angel for peat sake!" Dean allowed fear to show in his eyes along with a lust that he didn't need to fake. "Isn't there some sort of rule against this?"
"I'm a fallen angel now, Dean. I can do whatever I want." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "Part of the reason I fell was because of my feelings towards you."
The surprise on Dean's face was very real. And he fought hard to make sure the smile he shared next was gentle, though on the inside he was laughing with joy. He'd never had something this good to use when tormenting someone before, and he looked forward to using it to his full potential.
"Are you sure Cas? You won't get in more trouble for this?" Dean asked gently, pulling the angel close.
"I can't fall any farther than I already have." Castiel replied, "I want this, Dean."
So Dean took him in his arms, using one hand to tilt Castiel's chin up, this time going for a much gentler but still very passionate kiss.
Castiel nearly melted in his arms. Never had he dreamed Dean would feel the same way, or that he would act on those feelings. He'd been prepared to spend his whole life keeping his feelings hidden. Just being with Dean as a friend would have been enough for him.
Dean reached up and slid Castiel's trench coat off his shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground. Next he untied his tie, taking a moment to appreciate the softness of the silk as he pulled it from the other man's neck. His kisses followed his hands down Castiel's neck as he started unbuttoning the dress shirt. Sucking and nipping at the exposed skin, hard enough to leave marks.
Castiel moaned with pleasure as he fumbled for Dean's coat, pulling it off with such haste they heard the ripping of fabric before he dropped it on the ground on top of his own coat. "Sorry," he mumbled as Dean came up for another kiss.
"That's fine." Dean replied, his mind going into overdrive for how Cas would pay for ripping his jacket.
They broke apart again for a moment while Castiel, more carefully now, pulled Dean's shirt over his head before standing back to admire Dean's chiselled abs and the trail of curly dark hair running down into his pants. Dean took the time to remove Castiel's shirt, smirking at the untouched body while the angel was distracted, before pulling him close again.
A groan escaped both their lips as their bodies touched, now skin on skin.
"Dean," Castiel whimpered as he felt the others hand reach down to rub at the bulge in his pants.
"What do you want, Castiel?" Dean asked as he pushed Castiel's hand away and unbuckled his own belt.
"Please," the angel said softly, "I want you Dean."
"How do you want me?" Dean asked. It was so much better when he could make them ask for it. Then of course, they would get what they asked for.
Castiel let out a frustrated moan, running his hands down Dean slowly until he reached his now open jeans. He brushed his hand against the head of Dean's hard cock through his boxers, "I want this," he growled, "inside me."
Dean almost burst out laughing but managed to stop himself. Things were going so well.
He let Castiel slid his jeans down his hips, kicking them off, but stopped Castiel from taking his own trousers off. "Not yet."
They kissed for a few minutes longer, running their hands up and down each other's bodies as Castiel got more and more frustrated. His cock was so hard and his pants were so restricting that it was uncomfortable. But he'd do anything Dean told him to at the moment, so he waited.
Dean broke away again only to move over to suck and nip at Castiel's ear. "I want you to get down on your knees now, Cas." He whispered.
As the angel dropped down, Dean pulled off his boxers so when Castiel looked up Dean's rock hard cock would be right in his face. Leaning forward Castiel gave it a few tentative licks, keeping an eye on Dean to make sure he was doing this right. When Dean didn't correct him Castiel went further, sucking and licking at the tip before pulling it all the way into his mouth until he'd almost gagged, then moving up and down.
The sound of Dean moaning made him move faster, enjoying the feel of the cock in his mouth, the taste of Dean a mixture of sweat and body wash and something so completely male.
Dean's hands tangled in his hair as he rocked forward with Castiel's rhythm until he felt he was so close to the edge that he wouldn't last a moment longer. Then he slowly pulled Castiel away, enjoying the whimper as Castiel tried to move his mouth back to the throbbing cock in his face.
Dean pulled him to his feet and Castiel was grateful he had insisted on leaving his trousers on – the ground would have been hard on his knees. That Dean was so thoughtful was one of the many reasons he loved the man.
Now that it was over, Dean quickly removed his pants. "How did that feel?" He asked as he pushed the trousers and boxers down over Castiel's hips.
"Mmm…" Castiel moaned, trying to straighten out his thoughts enough to answer clearly, "I want to feel you come in my mouth." He finally got out.
This time Dean did chuckle, "Soon enough my angel, but tonight we're going to do something even better."
Castiel couldn't think at the moment of anything that could possibly feel better, except perhaps if Dean would wrap his hand around Castiel's own cock, standing straight up now that it was finally free from the confinement of the trousers.
Dean pulled Castiel onto their pile of coats and cloths, holding the angel close to him. He brushed his cock against Castiel's for the briefest second and Castiel instantly responded by bucking his hips forward.
Dean's lips were back by Castiel's ear as he whispered, "Do you still want me inside of you?" brushing his cock against Castiel's once more.
The moan he got in response along with the smaller man's hips bucking forward was an obvious enough response, but he wanted the angel to say it so he pretended he didn't understand, "No?" He asked, pulling back slightly, "Do you want to stop? We don't have to do this."
Castiel reached out and grabbed Dean, pulling him close again as he practically cried out, "No! Please. I want you inside of me."
"Okay, but this might hurt a bit at first." Dean said as he positioned a finger near Castiel's entrance. "I need to stretch you out a bit."
He had lube in a pocket of his jacket, and was considering grabbing it when Castiel said, "That's okay, Dean. I trust you."
A wave of power swept over Dean at these words. It was just what he'd been waiting for, a clear turning point in the night's festivities.
Deciding to forget the lube, he dug his finger into the tight entrance, Castiel gasped with discomfort, wiggling away and ending up trapped between the wall and Dean. Dean moved his finger out and in again, feeling Castiel tighten even more as his body rejected the foreign object and watching him struggle to relax. He knew if he stopped for just a minute, just left his finger inside, Castiel's body would have time to adjust. But that's not what he wanted.
He lined a second finger up with the entrance and forced it in with the first one on his next thrust. This stretched Castiel to the point of pain and he whimpered as the fingers thrust ruthlessly in and out. With the third finger, Castiel let out a hiss of pain and his erection started to fade. "Dean, it hurts."
"Shhh, it's okay. It's gonna get better, I promise." Dean soothed. He wasn't ready quite yet to destroy the trust Castiel had in him, so he made good on the promise and stopped moving his fingers in and out. Instead, he curled them, brushing against Castiel's prostate and causing him to moan and buck his hips up, his wilted member coming to life once more.
As Dean moved his fingers inside him, stretching him out in both a wonderful and painful way, Castiel brought his hand up and wrapped it around his own cock, stroking up and down making the experience more pleasing than painful. Soon, with his eyes locked with Dean's above him and his hand on his cock Castiel began to feel the same desperate need he'd felt earlier.
Just then, Dean asked, "Are you ready for more?"
Castiel wasn't sure he was, Dean's fingers were still causing discomfort, but the way Dean had asked made him think that if he said 'no' Dean might stop completely, so instead he nodded his assent.
Dean smiled at that and removed his fingers. Castiel took the moment of reprieve to lean forward and kiss Dean again but Dean pulled away, almost in disgust. This confused Castiel, but then he felt Dean's strong hands on his hips, flipping him over so he was on his hands and knees. Dean pulled his ass towards him and lined up his cock, preparing to enter the now stretched and sore angel.
The position left Castiel feeling more vulnerable than he was comfortable with, and when he felt Dean's cock rubbing against his entrance he couldn't stop from crying out, "Wait Dean! I'm not sure if I'm ready for this."
Dean laughed cruelly, "I'm only giving you what you asked for." Then he started to push into Castiel's tight ass. Castiel let out a cry of pain, begging Dean to stop, just for a second because it hurt. Dean didn't listen, instead he whispered in Castiel's ear that this is what he'd asked for, he'd begged Dean to do this to him and he was only doing what the angel wanted.
The position kept Castiel from relaxing, and made it easy for Dean to keep his cock tilted so he didn't touch the others prostate, not letting pleasure mix with the pain. Castiel cried out and tried to get away from Dean but couldn't without his grace giving him power. He scraped his hands and knees against the rough ground and banged his shoulder painfully against the brick wall in his struggles. Tears started to well in his eyes.
Then, just as he didn't think it could get any worse, Dean started talking again in a confusingly loving voice, "This is what you wanted Cas, this is what you fell from Heaven to get, isn't it? You wanted me and now you have me. You begged for me to be inside of you and now I am. So, was this worth falling from Heaven for? Do you think your Father would allow you back now that you're not so innocent? Face it Cas, you're stuck with me now. There's nowhere else you can turn that I won't find you." And then, most confusing of all, "I love you Castiel, don't you love me too?"
And the thing that hurt the most? Dean was right. Castiel had fallen from Heaven to be with Dean, and after this any slight chance he had of getting back in God's favour was gone. He had nowhere else to go either, his time today showed him that he'd need Dean to survive. And, even after this, he wasn't lying when he forced the words between his lips, "I love you Dean." Tears started pouring down his face.
At that Dean sped up. He was so close to finishing, and not just because of the tight walls squeezing him, trying to get him out. He was close because of the rush of power he felt over the pathetic angel. It was like he was back in Hell, playing mind games with the new recruits, letting them think he was building them up when really he was taking them apart one piece at a time.
When he finished at last he bucked into Castiel once more as deep as he could, shooting his seed into the angel. Finally he pulled out and started pulling on his cloths.
Castiel collapsed against the ground as soon as Dean let him go. Blood and semen were dripping out of him in an unpleasant way, and he felt like someone had just torn him in half. He instinctively curled up into a ball in the alley, his head pounding as the cutting remarks Dean had made repeated in his head over and over, seeming truer by the second.
Dean looked down at the naked man at his feet, covered in blood and dirt, eyes closed and tears running down his cheeks. Cloths crumpled underneath him.
Smirking, he drew a card from his pocket and leaned down. Setting the motel key card on the ground beside Castiel, he whispered in his ear, "Come to the motel before we leave in the morning, you can still sleep on the couch. Room 207." And with that he left.
It was almost 5am by the time Castiel managed to get up the energy to move. He knew he had to soon or risk being found like this, naked and broken in an alley. Aside from that embarrassment, the police would want to know who did this to him, and no matter how much Dean had hurt him he couldn't even think of turning him over to the police.
Slowly, he pulled his cloths over and started to get dressed. He limped out of the alley and started for the motel thinking of why Dean had done this to him. He may not have had sex before, but he knew that wasn't what it was supposed to be like. He wondered if it had something to do with Dean's time in Hell?
Standing outside the motel room door he wondered if he should go in. He doubted Dean would treat him poorly in front of his brother, but it felt like if he went in it would suddenly become very hard to get out again.
After a few moments, he stuck the card key into the lock and pushed the door open as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake either of the Winchester brothers. As he closed the door behind him, Dean's voice came through the darkness, "Glad you made it Cas, stitch up my coat before going to sleep, okay? The suture kit is on the table." Castiel heard the ruffle of sheets as the man rolled over in bed, drifting back to sleep.
Castiel spent the next hour struggling to force the fine needle through the thick leather, fixing the hole that seemed much larger than it had back in the alley. He poked himself several times and by the end of it his fingers were stiff and bleeding. But finally he put the coat down, satisfied with the tight, even stitches he'd managed.
He pulled his trench coat off as he staggered to the couch, now so exhausted that he couldn't see straight, and flopped down. He pulled the coat over himself as a blanket, and his last thoughts before passing out were wondering if he'd ever be able to save Dean from Hell.