Dean Winchester needed every possible ounce of control and Balthazar gave it to him.
"Bal," He whispered as he carded his hands through a clump of golden feathers. "You're so beautiful."
How was it that a human, this human, could bring about pleasure no angel could give him?
Balthazar shivered and grasped his bonds tightly as Dean continued his sweet torture. It didn't matter. The only thing he could feel was Dean's touch; His hands, his cheek, and his mouth all against his pillow soft feathers.
This was vastly different for him. He was used to being the dominant, the one with the control and the power during their pervious brief encounters. Balthazar moaned aloud as Dean fisted his hand in the older man's left wing and suckled a few feathers from Balthazar's right wing into his mouth.
Balthazar panted out as their bare chests collided. "Dean."
The elder Winchester smirked and complied with Balthazar's plea. After all, he needed this just as much as the angel did.