Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Dean/Cas
Summary: Some days, Dean needed to lose it. Today was one of those days. (Or, the one where Dean discovers he really, really likes cock rings.)
Warnings/Tags: Schmoop, a little anyways, Dom/sub, Collars, Cock Rings, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Control, Vibrators, (it's pink!), Leather Kink, sort of, Castiel Talks Dirty, Dirty Talk, Daddy Kink, Flavored Lube, because why not?, Gentle Dom Castiel, But also not, Sub Dean, Top Castiel, Bottom Dean, Voyeurism, voyeur!Cas, 'cause he's a pervy bastard
Word Count: 5,600ish
Notes: - Well, I hope you enjoy this slightly fluffy, very dirty one-shot. Comments are little packages of love and Kudos make my day! ^-^
Some days, Dean needed to lose it.
He and Cas worked like a swiss clock - they knew each other inside-out (very literally) and Cas could read Dean like a book.
So after Dean had had a particularly savage day at the autoshop, he was unsurprised when he felt arms snake his neck when he walked in the door, a kiss planted on his cheek and his coat taken from him and put in it's usual place.
"You okay?" Cas murmured, long lashes dusting his cheekbones when he blinked, and it vaguely occurred to Dean how damn lucky he was.
"Couple clients went nuts today," he admitted tiredly, hands splayed across Cas' narrow hips, "A paint job that was way too fucking complicated got messed up and the complaints came to me first - more than one. I'm not sure I wanna be in charge anymore if that's the shtick I'm gonna get from now on."
Cas sighed empathetically, nuzzling into Dean's neck, "Not every day's going to be a good one, Dean. People are assbutts, remember?"
Dean gave a half-hearted chuckle - the word was specifically Cas'. Another quirk Dean didn't fully understand - but treasured anyway. Cas was weird, a little OCD and completely awkward around other people. Dean loved it.
"Don't remind me. Besides," his hand snaked up to trail across Cas' collar bone, tipping the shorter man's stubbled chin up in order to meet his gaze, "I'm with you now - the autoshop can go fuck itself."
Cas grinned, "Sap." He flicked Dean's bicep affectionately, hand lingering before he pulled away, "You want a coffee?" Cas stared at him for a moment, re-evaluating his words, "Actually, no, you can have a coffee later. Go shower first - you're filthy."
Dean rolled his eyes, "Neat freak."
Cas stalked away, grinning over his shoulder, "And where would you be without me?"
Good question, Dean thought.
-x-x-x-
Grey sweats and a worn Zep tee - perfect night wear, especially after a shower. He felt completely refreshed, like all the worries had washed down the the drain along with the water.
His hair was still a little damp, but he didn't pay it much heed; the little water droplets were forgotten as he trailed out of the en suite bathroom into his and Cas' bedroom, eyeing the coffee and slice of pie waiting for him on the night stand with surprise.
Fucking hell, what had done to deserve a guy like Cas?
He sank onto the bed, reaching for the plate when he spied a note next to the lamp. He reached for it curiously, thumbing it open and reading Cas' untidy scrawl (possibly the only untidy thing about him) and he immediately felt his throat go dry.
I have a gift for you downstairs. You said you didn't want to be in charge anymore, right? Finish your meal and get your tight little ass down here.
-Cas
Blood thumped in Dean's ears, from a mixture of fear and anticipation. Cas' "gifts" ranged from fucking awesome to downright terrifying (the memory of a certain spider gag leapt into his mind and made him shudder). He wasn't sure he was entirely prepared for whatever Cas had planned for him this time - okay, scratch that, he was never prepared for whatever Cas had planned for him. Nearly three years together and he still managed to throw Dean curve balls virtually every day.
Kept him on his toes though, he supposed.
The fork clanked noisily on the plate as he wolfed down the pie, chugged the coffee and made a quick stop in the bathroom to brush his teeth (because stale coffee wasn't exactly the most delicious thing to taste in a kiss) before padding down the stairs and poking his head into the living room.
Their living room wasn't huge, per se, but it had two sizeable leather couches in it (which had been shuffled around to face each other, for some odd reason) and a coffee table that had been pushed backwards to clear a space on the carpeted floor. Which, Dean noticed, wasn't... completely clear.
Cas wasn't anywhere to be seen, so Dean crept forwards, landing softly on his knees as though he were about to be caught disobeying some unspoken rule as he examined the 'gifts' spread out on the floor. One look and he already had heat flaring in his stomach, a quaking hand brushing over them faintly.
A leather cockring, accompanied with a thick black collar. Next to them, another note.
Put them on, Dean. I expect you to be naked and kneeling for me when I come in.
Damn, how the fuck could Dean refuse that?
As he stripped and flung his clothes somewhere (did it really matter where?) he couldn't help but feel unbearably exposed in the light of the room.
Sure, he and Cas had gone through quite a few kinks before (Cas had a 'thing' for rough sex and Dean had used it to his fullest advantage ever since he'd discovered it) but this...this was a whole other level of trust. He'd seen this kind of set up before; gotten off to it, actually. Master and slave, dom and sub, and while they had dabbled in it before, they hadn't dipped into actual toys. Dirty talk here and there, Cas fucking him hard into the mattress, sometimes the other way round - never collars though. Fucking collars.
Leather felt very cool against his neck, he realised, hissing through his teeth after he slipped the cockring on and latched the silver clasp around his half-hard cock, hands currently doing up the strap around his neck. Nervousness swirled in his gut as he spread his knees on the immaculate carpet, hands fisting in the thick material of it. The room wasn't cold, but he shivered nonetheless. His cock was starting to appreciate the situation a little more now, beginning to curve up towards his belly as his mind happily supplied mental images as to what could transpire in the next few minutes.
Dean tried to calm himself when nobody came straight away - he wanted to get up and investigate, demand that Cas come in here and take care of him. But then he checked himself, remembered that if he didn't wait patiently he might not get anything at all. And that thought scared him more than the waiting did, so he stayed firmly put.
Instead, he tried to distract himself, letting his mind drift. He remembered, with some measure of affection, his and Cas' first escapade into the wonderful land of kink - when Cas, sprawled across Dean's lap as they watched Back To The Future for the millionth time together, had began rubbing circles across the back of Dean's hands and timidly asked if he'd like to try out something new that night. Dean smiled at the thought - of shy, unsure Cas, wondering if he was allowed to suggest anything beyond missionary. He'd gone from that relatively innocent little angel to raging, bordering-on-crazed sex maniac in less than two months flat.
Dean wondered if his influence had really been that powerful.
The collar rubbed against his neck when he shifted, as if to remind him that, yes, yes it had.
"Ah, Dean."
Dean jolted at the sudden voice by his ear, back jarring into the warm body behind him. Hands fluttered soothingly down his shoulders, treating him as though he were a spooked horse.
"Just me," Cas murmured into his ear, voice low and content - pleased with what he saw, "You did what I told you - you're okay with it?"
The faint note of worry that bled into Cas' tone was enough to make Dean melt all over again - it's this, this level of complete and utter care for one another that made Dean believe that Cas didn't actually exist. He was too damn perfect.
"Course," he gruffed, eyes fluttering shut when he felt a small, chaste kiss just below his ear - Cas' lips were warm and soft and everything Dean loved and if he died right then, he'd die happy, "Wouldn't have done it if I wasn't."
The other man smiled against Dean, scraping his nails lightly down Dean's back, drawing a quiet gasp from the taller man.
"If you want me to stop, I will. Remember that." Cas assured him, his gradual kisses turning from warm and welcoming to hot and lush, feathering across Dean's neck and down the line of his spine like he was a precious thing. Like Cas was worshipping him.
"So good like this, Dean..." Cas said lightly against his back, tongue dipping into every available contour of muscle, "But I think you'd look even better with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. Don't you agree?"
Dean choked, his dick throbbing almost painfully. A light swat landed on his flank.
"Answer me, Dean."
Dean gulped. Nodded. "Y-yes. Sir."
"Get on all fours then. Show off that round ass for me baby."
Dean obeyed so fast that he was surprised that he didn't fall over. His back bowed, legs spread willingly as he sensed Cas shifting behind him, fingers trailing lightly up his spine and over his neck, running loosely through his hair. The urge to look up arose, but Dean shoved it back and he kept his head down. Waited.
Cas' presence disappeared completely, and Dean was left breathing heavy on his hands and knees, length hanging thick and neglected between his legs. He was half tempted to start rutting into the carpet.
"Look up - at me, Dean," the order was slow, calm, and Dean shook with the gravity of it as he did what he was told.
His eyes found Cas immediately, and nothing - absolutely nothing on God's green earth - could've stopped him from letting out a low keening whine at the sight.
Cas was slumped back on the couch, legs spread, completely at ease while he stroked his cock, the head disappearing into his tight fist as he breathed in long huffs. Dean drank in the sight avidly - milky white thighs and narrow hips, elegant fingers stroking heated flesh, chest flushed a gorgeous red, nipples hard. Dean bit his lip. Cas inclined his head, holding out his free hand.
"Come here."
Dean made to get up, but Cas quickly cut his movement short with a harsh command.
"Crawl, Dean. Sway your hips like a good bitch and crawl."
That was new - 'good bitch' - but judging by the way Dean heart easily lost three beats he liked it. Liked it a lot.
He shuffled across the carpet with a lot less grace than intended, knees burning a little as he tried and failed to sway his hips in a way that Cas would enjoy - but he ploughed on anyway, eager to kneel between his lover's legs and taste him on his tongue. Eager to pleasure his, what? Master? God that nickname made him pant. He wondered if Cas would let him use it.
Whoa, way to be the sub, Dean.
Cas' free hand hooked two fingers into Dean's collar as soon as he was close enough, the tight slide of skin against Dean's adam's apple making shivers jump across his body and his muscles twitch, tongue heavy in his mouth. Cas pulled him forwards, and then Dean was face-to-face with eight gloriously thick inches of dick to suck. His mouth watered for it, and every nerve in him was whispering for him to beg - beg and plead for that cock. For it to fuck his face and take him from behind until he screamed. But Cas hadn't said he could, and Dean was certainly not about to step out of line now. Not since his lover was in such a dominating mood already - it almost scared Dean a little. But Cas wouldn't ever hurt him - he knew that with his whole being.
"Are you going to be a good slut for me?" Another sharp tug on his collar - Dean whimpered, "Are you going to swallow me whole and take it, Dean? Tell me. Tell me how much you want it."
Dean took in the order with wide eyes, unsure where to start - this wasn't as easy to him as it was to Cas. The guy was a natural born dirty talker, with a voice made of gravel and a mind so filthy that Dean was tempted to pump his ears full of soap.
Cas yanked his collar.
"I'm getting impatient, Dean."
Dean just let his inner ramblings get the better of him at that point.
"W-Want... your cock -sir," he began hesitantly, forcing his eyes to meet Cas' lust-blown ones, black swallowing the fiery azure nearly wholly, "Want you... to fuck my mouth," he groaned, hips squirming as his cock gave another protest at being ignored, "Fuck it until you come all hot down my throat - want it so bad, sir - sir please -"
Cas grabbed his chin abruptly, cutting off his words as his thumb traced his bottom lip.
"I know, baby, I know - you want me to take care of you, huh? Ram your pink lips until you're choking and begging for it, right?"
Jesus Christ, the mental image alone would've been enough to make Dean come. Had it not been for the torturous strap of leather wrapped around his dick, he probably would have - he was beginning to hate the device more and more as time went by.
"Please," he whispered, close enough to run the tip of his nose up the underside of Cas' cock, inhaling the musky scent of him like it was vital oxygen, "Please, Cas."
Cas toyed with his collar for a moment, ran both hands over Dean's shoulders, and with no warning whatsoever, gripped the hair at the back of Dean's head and tugged forwards. Dean's mouth sank down onto Cas' cock in an instant, the sudden intrusion making Dean gag slightly - the hot flesh throbbed on the pad of his tongue, thick and slick with precum and the taste - fuck, that taste. He didn't know what it was, just that it was woodsy and earthy and completely Cas. Dean could live off that taste - screw water and food, they weren't important.
"Fuck..." Cas groaned, hand tightening in the blonde spikes as his head thudded back on the couch, exposing the long, pale column of his throat - Dean wanted to bite at it, mark it with his teeth and lick the wounds left behind with his tongue. But that could wait for another night - a night where he wasn't on his knees, collared, lips bobbing up and down his lover's dick in hot swipes, tongue swirling around the head. Tentatively, he ran his hands up the innersides of Cas' thighs, loving the way the man trembled beneath his fingertips as he built up a rhythm. Cas' hips gave a warning stutter, and the hand wound in Dean's hair pulled harshly.
"Not too fucking fast," Cas growled, forcing Dean's slack mouth away from his cock. Pain spiked at Dean's neck, sending jolts of heat jarring down his back, smothering his skin and making him feel like flames were threatening to consume him. Cas' grip loosened, dragging his fingernails calmly over Dean's nape, watching the kneeling man through his lashes, smug smirk stretched across his flushed face.
"...I want you to put on a show for me, Dean," he hummed eventually, thumb rubbing circles into Dean's skin, "I want you to touch yourself in front of me. On the carpet. Would you like to do that?"
Dean's tongue darted out to lick his lips, nodding hastily. Cas gave one last comforting stroke of his hand - it lingered on Dean's neck - before pulling away, relaxing back into the sofa, cock curved up towards his stomach, slick from Dean's saliva. Dean couldn't get enough, eyes roving up and down the sight of his lover, strung out and turned on. Because of him.
"There's a box behind you, Dean," Cas stated, voice closer to how it normally sounded. Dean didn't look; he waited for his lover to finish speaking first, "I want you to use what you find in there - and make all those pretty little noises you've been bottling up for me too."
Dean slipped his gaze over Cas' blues one last time, seeing his own lust reflected back at him perfectly, a glimmering kind of affection slotted in next to it as well. Dean let the corners of his mouth tip up into a smile - not a smirk, or a grin, but a genuine, face-cracking smile, and his stomach fluttered when Cas returned it.
"Go ahead, Dean," he said softly, "And tip that ass up for me, baby, you know I love it."
Dean winked at him, completely over-exaggerating the swish of his hips as he turned around, tingling when he heard Cas stifling a groan behind him - probably touching himself again. Selfish bastard.
A little black shoe box swam into view, and Dean reckoned Cas must've brought it in when he'd snuck up behind him. He made a grab for it, pushing off the lid, suppressing a squeak when he eyed its contents.
There was a jar of lube in there, naturally - but Dean was too busy staring at the obscenely hot pink vibrator laid on the other side to pay any attention to it. The dial was small, a little black circle at the base, but Dean could easily see that it had seven settings. Seven fucking settings.
Seven.
"Think of them as rewards," Cas was grinning, Dean could hear it in his voice, "Rewards for my well-behaved little bitch."
And well, Cas could see from where he was sat how much Dean's cock enjoyed that name.
Shakily, he reached for the lube, blatantly ignoring the hot pink monstrosity laid before him (a monstrosity Dean really, really wanted in his ass) and opened the lid, dipping his fingers in and warming it between both hands - he'd probably need both, knowing Cas. Kinky bitch.
"Face me." Abrupt. Harsh. Heated.
Dean swivelled, plastering his best 'I am so innocent' look across his face. He sat back, and it suddenly became very clear why Cas had arranged the sofas to face each other. Still on the floor, Dean leant back into the couch, rubbing his slick fingers together all the while.
"Put a finger in your mouth, Dean - let your other hand do the work," Cas ordered huskily, and Dean thanked his previous train of thought because as soon as one lube-coated finger hit his tongue he tasted it, eyes widening.
Fucking cherry. It was cherry flavoured.
Dean's favourite type of pie.
Well, now Dean wouldn't be able to eat cherry pie ever again without getting hard.
There was having a mouthgasm at the table and there was actually having an orgasm at a table, and Dean had a feeling that come next dinner time he'd be experiencing both. Maybe at once. The thought made him shiver.
"Like that?" Cas smirked, obviously enjoying Dean's utter look of rapture as he leisurely fisted his own cock, "Picked it myself. Thought you'd enjoy it."
Dean nodded his appreciation, other hand finally skimming down his torso, briefly circling a nipple before running down over his abs, palm skimming the length of his dick. He hadn't realised it up until that tiny pinprick of a second, but he suddenly craved the friction his body so desperately needed, the want for it arising faster than lightning, curling low in his gut and making him moan around his fingers. Though his eyes were screwed shut, he could definitely hear the slap of skin-on-skin speed up as Cas watched, breath low and ragged.
"Fuck, baby, so well-behaved," Dean heard Cas breathe lowly, his own erection straining at the sound of the other man's voice, "Legs spread, waiting for a nice thick cock to fill you up. So good..."
Dean bucked up into his fist - yes, he wanted someone in him, pounding him against the sofa with abandon. Shit, he wanted Cas - to feel that equal strength let loose and fucking into him and making stars explode and oh fuck...
His orgasm was speeding towards him, tearing through his body like thunder, rolling underneath his skin and making him arch his back against the sofa - he should've come by now, should've made a complete mess of himself all over his stomach, maybe even on his chin like that time when Cas had tied him the headboard and fucked him so raw that he could barely stand up afterwards. But he didn't. The infernal cockring - torture device - staved off his climax, leaving him squirming against his hand, whining around his fingers. He was pretty sure he'd bitten into one, the telltale hint of copper on his tongue. He didn't care. He needed to come yesterday.
"Cas -" he sobbed brokenly, hand still furiously pumping his cock, trying to will the orgasm that wouldn't come, "Cas please - please sir, I'll do anything, just let me - ohhh shit - Cas-!"
"Stop."
Dean whined, hand still going, "But Cas, I can't -"
"I said stop, Dean."
He ripped his hand away defiantly, feeling tears tracking over his cheeks as he slammed his palms into the carpet, toes curling, breath coming in short, pained gasps. His abdomen was throbbing, scorching hot pleasure coiled so tight in his stomach that it felt like his eyes were going to pop out of his head.
"Please..." He whispered, voice hoarse, "Shit, Cas, please..."
"Show defiance like that again and I won't let you come for a week," Cas growled. Dean's mouth snapped shut, figuring it best to keep quiet - he'd underestimated Cas' threats before. He'd once had to go three weeks without sex once because of a drunken bet and by the end of it he'd nearly sobbed with relief when Cas decided to let up.
"I'm sorry, sir," he said more evenly, drawing in a shuddering breath as he flickered his eyes open to gaze at the raven haired man once more, "It won't... it won't happen again, s-sir. I promise."
"It better not. Now," Cas began anew, still pumping his cock lazily - the tip was flushed red, swollen and thick and absolutely dripping in precum - Dean was proud to know he'd caused that. Caused Cas to become that wet, "Bend yourself over that chair and fuck yourself on those dirty fingers of yours. And this time, when I tell you to stop, you stop. Understand, slut?"
Obediently, Dean nodded, rolling over and grabbing the lube again, a new layer of the stuff over his fingers in next to no time. His shoulders rolled, the collar shifting on the bob of his throat as he reached down his back, one hand holding himself open whilst the other teased his entrance, a quiet little gasp leaving his chest as his slick fingers slid over the hole. The razor edge of the orgasm-that-never-was had faded now, and Dean could concentrate more on the low hum of pleasure that filtered through his body at the touch of his fingers. He ignored the breathy little moans Cas was making, focusing entirely on his own pleasure. Cas may be in control, but that didn't mean Dean couldn't be a little selfish if he wanted.
His chest hummed with the dark moan that escaped him when he slid the first finger into himself, hips rocking back of their own accord as he fucked himself, nice and slow, the fiery drag of slick skin on his insides making him jolt and buck wildly, braced against the sofa, hips flexing.
"Cas," he called out, sliding another finger inside, loving the burn it induced, "Cas, want you so bad baby - wanna ride you 'til I see stars -"
"Don't worry, I'll let you - oh shit, Dean..." The syllable of his name was drawn out, a hiss between clenched teeth, "I'm going to mark you up so fucking good after this - you won't be able to sit down after I'm through with you."
Dean's eyes widened, but whether it was from the third finger nudging his prostate or the mental images Cas was painting in his head Dean would never know. And then, the order to use the vibrator floated into his headspace, and he let out a disappointed whine when his fingers slid out. He felt painfully empty, and he knew that until Cas was filling him up he'd have to make do with the pink vibrator he was currently pushing into his ass, already up on the second setting.
"Fuck - fuck fuck fuck, Cas!" He gasped, upping the settings another two notches, his legs jerking wildly when the vibrator hit that spot inside, sending white spearing violently across his vision, blood pounding in his ears "Is thi-is good? Is this what you wanted?" He glanced over his shoulder, eyes clashing with Cas' cloudy ones, pronouncing every syllable with deliberate lewdness, "Am I being a g-good -fuck - a-a good little bitch for daddy?"
He had absolutely no fucking idea where that had come from, but it didn't matter because it sent Cas flying clean over the edge - Dean heard the other man stutter out a garbled noise, and then he was watching Cas come (God, that would never get old), biting down on his plump bottom lip as thick white ropes splattered up his stomach, chest rising and falling so fast it was almost a blur.
Dean's hand halted on the vibrator, unsure whether to continue or not. Cas' breathing was ragged, and Dean felt a powerful sense of cockiness overwhelm him - Cas had barely fucking touched him, yet Dean had managed to make him spill his load just by fucking himself on a vibrator. To know he had that kind of affect on someone else made another searing wave of heat envelope him, hips flexing. Grudgingly, he obeyed the ache in his neck and turned to face the back of the sofa again, hand patiently holding vibrator still, waiting for Cas to speak.
"...I didn't say stop."
Dean grinned into the leather, forehead resting on the cushion as he jumped the last three settings in one go and practically leapt off the floor, the constant whirring against his prostate making him cry out, sweat beading on the back of his neck, uncontrollable pleasure causing his body to undulate like crazy, hot and needy and shit, he didn't know how much more of this he could fucking take.
"Made you come, huh Cas?" Dean taunted between breathless pants, voice muffled against the sofa, going for smug but ending up with light-headed and desperate instead, "Couldn't wait to fuck me, could you? Too fucking impatient aren't -"
"Stop talking, Dean," - Dean shut up - "I know how much you love the sound of your own voice. Daddy knows."
Air left him then, the sound of Cas' fucking wrecked voice saying that... that word - it was too fucking much. There was something so imeasurably dirty about it that Dean felt that frenzied heat ripping into him again, blasted cockring pinning his orgasm down and holding it in a chokehold. He cried out, thrusting down harder on the vibrator, knees spreading further on the carpet whilst his hand slammed onto the sofa, holding himself straight-backed for a better angle. Stupidly, he hoped for a miracle - for the stimulation to be so powerful that his body ignored the strap of leather and came anyway.
No such luck.
He wasn't even allowed to plead anymore - every mind-numbing sensation had to be felt in silence, and his body was starting to quake with the effort of holding it together - Cas, fuck fuck fuck, Cas -
"Would you like me to fuck you now?" Cas asked mockingly - his voice sounded closer, firmer than before, and Dean nearly broke down when he realised the other man was shifting towards him, "Want me to fuck you, baby? Got me so hard already," - a slap on Dean's ass, a kiss ghosting down the back of his thigh, his hand still pressing the vibrator deep inside - "I wanna see you come off my cock alone - no touching yourself, Dean. Daddy wants to watch his bitch come."
"Cas...!" He couldn't contain it, just couldn't, and that was okay because it made the other man finally - finally - touch him. Strong hands yanked the vibrator out of him, leaving Dean a quivering mess on the sofa as he was flung around and pushed back, his ass over the edge of the seat whilst Cas' palm flattened on his chest, pushing him back into the leather and then, oh God, and then Cas was sliding home and Dean fucking screamed.
"Shit, Dean," Cas moaned, folding Dean over double, the taller man's legs hooked over Cas' shoulders, "Feel so good, - God, so loud, so tight-"
Dean flung his hands out wildly, one finding purchase at the back of Cas' head whilst the other dug its fingers into the meat of his thigh, feeling every thrust shake him, every breath leave him, literally bouncing on Cas' cock as he claimed those plush lips for his own, needing the contact to stay tethered.
One particularly forceful snap of the angel's hips had tears streaming down Dean's face.
"Let me come - oh shit, Cas I can't - I can't baby, not anymore," he shook his head, his voice cracked and rough, the constant push of Cas' cock relentless, fucking into him ruthlessly, empty one second and deliciously full the next; the violent movement contrasted sharply to the tender kisses being pressed underneath the line of his jaw - it was ranging out of just 'fucking' and coming dangerously close to 'making love', "Cas please - I need you to - I need -"
"Need to come?" Cas whispered, spearing into Dean harder and harder - the sofa actually shifted backwards a couple times, "Wanna come on my cock, Dean?"
Dean nodded weakly, words garbled as he choked on his own tongue.
"Please Cas - daddy - please...!"
One of Cas' hands reached down between them, forming a tight channel around Dean's cock - he cried out.
"Then come," Cas kissed him again, pulling off the cockring and at last - at fucking last - Dean's orgasm hit him. He screamed Cas' name so loud that he was sure neighbours several blocks away would hear, but he didn't give two flying fucks because he'd never come harder in his entire life, his whole body spasming and tightening like a bowstring, nails digging so hard into Cas' thigh that he drew blood. Lightning fired through him in one long, continuous streak, come splattering between their sweaty bodies and then Cas was coming too, spilling into Dean with a muffled groan into the taller man's neck, the slap of their skin drowned out by the blood thrumming in their ears.
Dean only realised he'd blacked out after he woke up, still propped against the sofa and breathing dizzily, but without Cas inside him. Instead, his lover was kneeling between Dean's legs, warm washcloth in his hands and gently clearing up the mess they'd made on Dean's body. Dean chuckled weakly.
"Man, I just had a shower."
This made Cas laugh as he pulled a glass of water seemingly from nowhere, and handed it to Dean.
"Sit up and drink; your throat's going to be sore," he said softly, waiting for Dean to straighten and lean back before he gave him the glass, "Never heard you scream like that before. Did you enjoy it?"
Dean just gave him a very pointed look over his glass and continued to drink. Cas smiled, hands smoothing up Dean's thighs, waiting patiently until he was done with the water and setting the glass back down on the floor. Dean pulled him up, letting the shorter man settle on his lap in all his naked glory. The leather collar slid soothingly against his skin. Dean decided he rather liked it.
"Love you," he murmured sleepily into Cas' neck, winding his arms around the other man's middle, sighing happily when Cas looped his own arms across Dean's shoulders.
"That's just the post-orgasmic haze talking," Cas said, ducking down to catch Dean's lips again, "But I love you too, if that means anything."
Cas' weight was comforting on his lap, and Dean relished it for a few moments, drawing in slow breaths as they wound down together. He heard Cas chuckle against him, so he cracked open an amused eye at the other man and cocked his head.
"What?" He smiled bemusedly. Cas looked at him very seriously, smile still lingering in his eyes.
"'Daddy'," he smirked, and Dean felt himself flush all kinds of red, "I rather liked it."
"Y-yeah, well," Dean stammered, embarrassment setting his cheeks aflame, "I wasn't the one who bought cherry lube and a leather collar, was I?"
Cas pursed his lips, shrugging his nonchalance, savouring Dean's flustered stuttering.
"The collar was a bit of an impulse," he admitted, thumbing said strap fondly, the feeling strange on Dean's throat, "But I think it worked well..." His eyes flickered up to the taller man's, a silent challenge swimming in those endless pools as he gave a playful tug on the leather, "...Don't you?"
Dean just rolled his eyes, nose nudging Cas' as he kissed him again, lowering the shorter man back to the couch as he assaulted that slender neck with sharp snags of teeth.
Looks like it wouldn't have to wait for another night after all.