Hey guys! So after weeks of writer's block I've been writing furiously, and this is what happened. Let me know what you think!
Cas sighs, loosening his tie as he climbs the up the final flight of stairs to his apartment. It was a terrible day, and every part of him aches to collapse into bed and not move for as long as possible. He opens the door, mood lifting a little as he enters the warm apartment, hanging up his coat and dropping his briefcase heavily to the floor before heading to the kitchen. Halfway there, he pauses, unbelieving of what he sees. Turning, his throat closes around an aborted scream. Sitting casually on the leather couch is a man. Well dressed in a dark suit, tall and broad-shouldered, with the sharpest eyes Castiel has ever seen, a deep green that darkens with the predatory smile gracing the man's lips. Cas' mind spins, trying to figure out how he ended up here. The door should have been locked. The only other person with a key is…Gabriel. A sudden horrible thought occurs to him; a memory of last week's Sunday dinner, when Gabriel was prodding him about his sex life. He'd joked that if his current condition went on much longer, he was going to have to hire somebody for him. At least, Cas had thought he was joking. Now, staring at the man in his living room, he's not so sure. He swallows, trying to figure out what to do, and the man watches him curiously, his head tilted to the side.
"You're late," he says. The voice startles Cas out of his thoughts, low and rough, but oddly soothing. No, wait. He's not supposed to think that about the stranger in his apartment. Even if the slight growl in it makes him shiver. Cas opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. He closes it and tries again. Still nothing. Suddenly he realizes that the man has crossed the room to stand in front of him, still piercing him with his eyes, and he belatedly tries to step back, only to be stopped by the hand around his wrist. It's not really tight enough stopping him from pulling away, but his body freezes up anyway at the silent order.
"I-I think there's been a mistake," he manages finally, his voice cracking.
The man doesn't falter, but his smile softens a little around the edges. "You're Castiel Novak, aren't you?" A little shiver runs through Cas at the sound of his name coming out of this man's mouth, and he's not sure it's ever sounded so beautiful. It's all he can do to nod dumbly in answer. "Then there's no mistake. You can call me Dean." He moves slowly around Cas' frozen body, his fingers trailing lightly up from his wrist to wrap around the smaller man's throat. Castiel flinches, expecting the hand to tighten, but it doesn't, just rests there, almost reassuring in its gentleness, and Cas feels his pounding heart slow down as if he's not in a precarious position. He can feel Dean's heat behind him, so close, yet not touching anywhere but the hand at his throat. Suddenly he can't decide if Dean is really there at all, or if his fantasies have gotten so out of control that he's completely lost his mind. He's never told anyone about his secret interests; kept it tucked away safely for the lonely nights when he could lie in bed with his laptop and imagine giving his carefully manufactured control to someone, someone like Dean, and suddenly he wants to lose himself in it, fantasy or not; wants it so much that he doesn't even realize that Dean's started to talk again.
"I'm not going to hurt you," he's murmuring, so close to Cas' ear that his hot breath makes him shiver. "Not in any way you don't like." Cas can hear the smirk in his voice. "I know you want this," he continues, his thumb stroking absently against the pulse in Cas' neck, which suddenly picks up again. "And I also know you're uncomfortable accepting that." Slowly, he shifts around until he's back in Castiel's view. "You need help letting go. That's what I'm here for. You can pull away if you want, and never see me again, and I won't stop you. Or you can take a deep breath, relax, and let me help. You can trust me. It's up to you."
Cas looks up into Dean's face, expecting firm lines and cold eyes, but is surprised by the amount of patience and compassion he finds instead. His expression is soft, like he's encouraging Cas to give in to what he wants, and for some reason it puts him at ease, despite every warning he tries to give himself. His mind is already made up, even though this is crazy, and Dean is a stranger, and he's putting his life into a stranger's hands. But he takes a deep breath, forcing himself to relax as he lets it out, and gives a short nod. Dean smiles brightly, genuinely pleased. He leans closer until his breath brushes past Castiel's ear again. "Good boy," he murmurs, and Cas tries to determine if the whimper he heard at the praise had really come from his own throat. Dean grins, confirming his suspicions, and he blushes. "Don't worry," Dean chuckles. "I liked it. Now, you must be hungry. So strip and then join me."
A jolt of surprise runs through him, and he opens his mouth to protest, to backpedal, to do something, but Dean's finger against his lips silences him. "No talking." Cas stays frozen in place, a little worry line forming between his eyebrows, and Dean's expression softens. "Alright, listen. Your word is Impala. You decide it's too much, all you have to do is say it, and everything stops. I promise." Realizing that Dean is giving him a way out, Cas relaxes again, clutching the word to his chest like a security blanket and nodding again. Dean smiles, his thumb running lightly along Cas' jaw, a reward, before he turns away to sit down on the couch, pulling off his jacket, rolling up his sleeves, and beginning to flip channels as if watching Cas strip is of no interest to him. Cas hesitates, but takes a breath, deciding that if he's going to do this he has to do it all the way. His fingers find the top button of his dress shirt, fumbling over a few before he slides it off, laying it over the back of the chair. He watches Dean carefully, but the other man doesn't turn around, seemingly at ease in the living room. Cas quickly rids himself of the rest of his clothes, telling himself that he's crazy, before slowly walking to stand by the arm of the couch.
Dean glances over, his eyes raking over Cas' suddenly trembling body once before he smiles. "Come join me." Cautiously, Cas moves to settle on the couch, but Dean makes a disapproving sound and points to the floor beside his feet, where one of the larger throw pillows has been set. Cas hesitates for a moment to reign in his sudden arousal at finally doing this after imagining it so many times, then slowly sinks to his knees on the pillow. He can hear Dean's smile in the murmured "Good boy," he receives, and it helps him relax, settling back on his heels and watching as Dean picks up a tray of food from the coffee table, starting to eat it slowly and paying Castiel no mind. Cas panics for a moment, and it takes him a minute to realize that he's less terrified of actually doing this than he is at how comfortable and easy it was to submit to a virtual stranger. But the absent-minded hand through his hair brings him back, soothing some of the fear, and Cas finds himself leaning into Dean's leg. "Did you eat before you came home today?" he asks the way he'd ask anybody who wasn't kneeling at his feet.
Cas hesitates, remembering the no-talking rule, but figuring that rule is lifted when he's being asked a question. "No…Sir," he manages.
A brief smile lights up Dean's face, and he's rewarded with a lightly swipe of fingers against the back of his neck. He hears the clink of the fork on the plate before there's a forkful of food in front of him. He regards it carefully, unsure of what to do until Dean's gruff command of "Open." Though initially mortified at being fed, the shame starts to fade when Cas realizes he likes it, and he willingly takes the food that's put in front of him. After dinner Dean picks up a small bowl of fruit, spearing a grape with his fork and offering it silently to Cas, who takes it happily. Then the fork disappears, and a chunk of pineapple is in front of him, except it's suspended between Dean's fingers. Cas gasps softly, feeling his already half-hard cock waking up at the idea. Dean doesn't mention it, just rests the edge of the fruit against Cas' bottom lip and waits for him to accept it. Closing his eyes, he leans forward, taking the fruit into his mouth along with Dean's fingers, which he suckles lightly, the pineapple mixing with the taste of him, salty and warm and very pleasant. He can't help the soft, low moan that escapes him. Dean makes a small, surprised sound, and Cas tenses, wondering if he's done something wrong, but the gentle stroke through his hair and Dean's soft chuckle settle his nerves. "God Cas, you're perfect," he murmurs. Cas blushes under the praise, letting his cheek rest against Dean's knee and his eyes close, obediently accepting whatever is offered to him and being sure to thoroughly clean Dean's fingers after each piece.
"Come on up here," Dean says after a while. Cas stands, moving to sit on the couch, but Dean stops him, gently turning him towards the TV and guiding him back until he sits in Dean's lap, straddling his legs and leaning back against his chest. It's a little too vulnerable, with Dean clothed and Cas' legs resting outside of Deans, exposed, but Dean keeps his arm wrapped firmly around Cas' waist, holding him still, and the tension that creeps into his posture is pushed out when Dean plants soft kisses along the side of his neck. "You're so good Cas," he murmurs against his skin. "And so incredible too. The way you submit to me…look how hard you are for me already, and I haven't even touched you. Fuck, it's beautiful." Tipping his head back against Dean's shoulder, Cas closes his eyes, whimpering at the praise. Suddenly there's a light touch along his shaft, which makes his hips buck of their own accord, and Dean laughs. "Sensitive too. We're going to have a lot of fun." He stays quiet for a moment, and Castiel can feel his eyes as they roam across his skin. "You remember your word, Cas?" he asks finally.
"Impala, Sir," Cas whispers.
"Good. And you trust me?" he asks, softer.
Cas has to consider it for a minute. On the one hand, Dean is a total stranger who showed up in his apartment and started ordering him around. On the other hand, he'd also been gentle and patient, making sure he ate and managing to put him at ease even in the most vulnerable positions. And maybe Gabriel is right. Maybe it is time to take a risk and go after what he wants. "Yes Sir," he murmurs finally. "I trust you."
Dean smiles against the back of his neck, and the feeling makes Cas' heart flutter. "Okay. Turn around for me. I want to see you." Cas shivers, but obeys, standing and turning to face him before settling down on his lap again, feeling slightly more exposed with his knees spread around the outsides of Dean's upper thighs. Dean just smiles reassuringly, letting his fingers trail along his collarbone before running down his arm and wrapping lightly around his wrist. He reaches over to the chair and picks up Cas' forgotten tie, then raises an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to nod before tying it around the wrist in his grip. He does so carefully, checking and readjusting the fabric several times before he's happy. Cas watches the practiced fingers work, swallowing when they place his hand against Dean's chest, moving to remove Dean's own tie before bringing it to the opposite wrist. Cas' fingers twitch over the heartbeat in Dean's chest, and he closes his eyes, using the steady pulse to slow his breathing. Dean brings the other hand to rest opposite the first, and Cas takes another slow breath before opening his eyes to find Dean watching him, half a smile on his lips, as his fingers run up and down each of Cas' forearms. "What are you thinking?" he asks.
For a moment Cas tries to answer, and then he realizes he can't. "I'm not, Sir," he answers quietly. "I was just…breathing. Your heart…I…" he trails off, suddenly feeling silly, but Dean smiles.
"Good. Stand up." Cas slips from his lap, and Dean follows him up, taking the ends of the ties and leading him down the hall into his bedroom. Cas follows, pausing behind him as he surveys the footboard, then takes him by the shoulders, backing him up against it. "Down," he commands softly, watching Cas kneel in front of it and gently stroking through his hair. He crouches down, grabbing the ends of the ties and slotting them carefully through the spaces in the footboard, tying them securely so that Cas' arms are pulled behind him, uncomfortable but not painfully so. He runs a hand lightly along the back of Cas' arm. "Okay?" he asks. Cas nods, giving him a small smile and watching him pull another pieces of black fabric from his pocket, which he ties firmly over Cas' eyes. Cas' heart speeds up at the sudden loss, but he takes a breath while Dean continues to lightly stroke his skin, waiting to gauge his reaction. Swallowing, he slowly relaxes into his position, and Dean makes a pleased sound. "Don't move."
The steady hands leave his skin, and Cas hears the padding of feet moving away, and then everything is quiet. He stays still, listening, but hears nothing. Instead, he tries to focus on his breaths, despite the little flares of panic that run through him with every passing minute. He isn't quite sure how much time passes, just that he's starting to wonder if Dean has left him here, if maybe Gabriel asked him to as part of some sick joke, and he wants to call out or pull against his bonds, but he also wants to play by the rules. He feels himself starting to hyperventilate, and clamps down hard around the fear, reminding himself to trust Dean. He put his faith in that man, allowed this to happen for a reason, and now it's time to remember that reason. He just has to keep breathing.
He jumps at the soft touch against his shoulder, then relaxes, realizing that Dean hadn't gone anywhere, but was standing a few feet away watching in case he panicked. "Well done, Cas. That was good." Cas shivers at the murmured praise, pleased at the pride in Dean's voice. "I wouldn't leave you like that," he continues. "Now, I'm going to go out to the living room to get something, and then I'll come back. Be good while I'm gone and you'll get a reward." Cas nods, managing to stay calm this time as he listens to the sounds of Dean walking away, fumbling with something, then walking back. He leans into the light touch on his cheek. "Good boy. I'm going to move you. Are you okay keeping the blindfold on?"
Cas just nods mutely, thinking that he would have agreed to anything if it meant having Dean's hands on him. He feels his bindings release, moaning softly when Dean's practiced fingers press into his shoulders, easing away the ache. Dean chuckles. Satisfied with their work, the hands travel further, one wrapping around his upper arm and the other falling to his ribs. "Up," he murmurs, carefully steading him as he rises. The hand on his arm shifts down to his hip, gently guiding him forward until he hits the bed. When Dean speaks again, it's very close to his ear. "Lie down for me, beautiful," he murmurs, running a hand down his spine. Cas thinks he might have whimpered again, and he obeys quickly, stretching out in what feels like the center of the bed. The bed shifts under Dean's weight as he takes one of Cas' wrists, moving it up over his head and securing the loose end of the tie to the nearest corner of the headboard, making sure the fabric is taut. He runs his palm down Cas' arm and over to the other wrist, which is pulled to the other corner. He maintains light contact as he moves, letting Cas know where he is. He slips to the end of the bed, and Cas feels something looped around his ankle before it's pulled to the side and secured. He swallows, trying to calm the anxiety that's flared up in his chest as the other ankle is given the same treatment. He tests the bonds carefully, finding that they have very little give. Slowly, Dean's hand runs up from his ankle over his inner thigh, just missing his cock, which, despite his nerves, is rock hard and leaking over his stomach. It continues across his abs and up the center of his chest, somehow managing to coax every muscle in to relaxing as it moves, before settling over his throat again. The touch soothes Cas' initial panic, and suddenly his skin is on fire, aching to be touched, and his arousal heightens as he imagines how he must look, spread wide and vulnerable under Dean's careful watch, and a soft moan escapes him.
"You do not have permission to cum. You're going to get your reward, but not until I'm ready. Understood?" Cas manages something resembling an affirmation through the sharp need exploding through his body, but not even he can really understand it. Dean chuckles, his thumb rubbing over Cas' pulse as he shushes him gently. "Deep breaths," he advises, and suddenly they start happening, as if Cas' body was just waiting for the order. Dean's touch disappears for a moment as his weight settles between his spread legs, then reappears on the sides of his ribs, tracing them with an almost reverent care. He drops a soft kiss to Cas' sternum, and the man under him shivers violently, his fingers wrapping around the fabric at his wrists. He continues that way, gently stroking and kissing across his skin, watching him carefully as he methodically worships the writhing man beneath him. Stuttered, broken sounds fall from Cas' mouth, which has fallen open. Dean's fingers shift lower, tracing lightly up and down the insides of his thighs, feeling them tremble. "So good for me, Cas," he whispers, planting light, open-mouthed kisses between his hips. "So incredible. And I haven't even touched any of the good parts yet." A choked whimper is the only answer. "Let's change that, shall we?"
He kisses his way back up, then swipes his tongue over one pink nipple. Cas' back arches up, and he gasps, biting his lip in an effort to stay quiet. "None of that," Dean murmurs, gently pulling his bottom lip out from between his teeth as he scrapes his own along the sharp jaw. "No hiding from me, Castiel," he whispers, kissing behind his ear. "I want to hear you. Let go for me, beautiful." He kisses halfway down Cas' neck, then sinks his teeth in, biting down firmly and delighting in the loud moan and the mark he knows is going to be there. "Much better," he teases lightly, moving back down Cas' chest and licking over a nipple again, letting his teeth scrape over it. A sudden hiss escapes Cas' lips, but he arches up into the sensation, gasping sharply as Dean bites down. He's trembling so hard he thinks he might just shake himself into pieces, but muses that there are much worse ways to go than with Dean's mouth and fingers killing him slowly. "Such a good boy, aren't you?" he's murmuring in between the systematic marking of Cas' collarbone with sharp nips followed by soothing strokes of his tongue. "So fucking good, Castiel. Look at you, all spread out and presented to me. That big, gorgeous cock of yours is so nice and hard for me." Cas whimpers loudly, feeling his arousal throb desperately at the words, so hard it's almost painful. "It's making quite the mess, isn't it?" Dean teases him, swiping two of his fingers through the puddle forming on Cas' stomach. "Why don't you taste, Cas?" he whispers, and suddenly the fingers are at Cas' lips, and he opens to accept them without question, moaning around them as he suckles obediently. He hears a groan escape Dean's chest, along with a muffled Fuck, before his lips and teeth are teasing lightly along his inner thighs. He squirms desperately, wanting to cry with how close Dean's mouth is. "Something you want?" Dean asks, voice low and husky.
He eases his fingers free, and Cas gasps for a moment before he's able to choke out a desperate "Please!"
Dean chuckles. "Please what, baby?"
Cas growls with the effort of forming words, but manages a "P-Please…touch me!"
"You want me to touch that beautiful cock of yours?" he asks, smirking as he places a sharp bite to his right thigh. Broken, whimpered pleas tumble from his lips as he tries to squirm in his bonds. "That's an idea. But you know what I'd really like to do?" Cas pants loudly. "What I'd really like to do," Dean whispers, grinning, "is swallow it down." His words send Cas into a fit of whimpering. "Think that would be okay?" He gives a jerky nod, pleading desperately. Cas nearly screams when suddenly Dean's mouth is around him, hot and wet and so, so perfect. He tries to push up into the sensation, but Dean holds his hips steady, refusing to cede control. He sobs when Dean's tongue teases around the head and finds its way into the slit, his knuckles white where they're wrapped around the ties. A mix of pleas and curses and unintelligible sounds fall from his mouth, and he nearly blacks out when Dean groans around him, keeping him balanced on the very edge. One of his hands disappears, and the blindfold is pulled free. Cas blinks for a moment, and what he sees has him squeezing his eyes shut again, because Dean has undone his pants and is stroking himself in time with his mouth on Cas' cock. Cas throws his head back, no longer caring about the loud whimpers and moans that escape him.
"P-Please Dean…please…f-fuck, I'm gonna cum…Please!" he cries.
Dean's mouth pulls away with an obscene pop, and Cas almost sobs. "Not yet," he murmurs, his voice cracking. "Just another minute…fuck Cas, you're incredible…"
He chokes back a whimper as Dean's mouth returns, trying desperately to hold on, to please Dean, but it isn't long before he's begging again. "Dean!"
"Open your eyes," he orders gruffly, and Cas obeys immediately, his eyes locking onto Dean's dark, lust-filled ones. Dean half-smirks. "Good boy. Cum for me, Castiel." At the command, Cas' whole body seizes up, and everything going white.
When he comes around again, his ties have been removed, and he's cuddled against Dean's chest, curled up in his lap while he gently runs a wet cloth over Cas' skin. "Deep breaths baby," he murmurs, lightly rubbing his back, his palms soothing over Cas' still-shaking body. His voice sounds far away, but the words are gentle, and Cas is still too far gone to do anything but cling to him and listen. "You did so good Cas," he's saying. "Just breathe. I've got you. You can speak whenever you're ready. Take your time. I'm right here." He continues to soothe him gently, holding him securely as he slowly comes back to earth.
The first words Cas manages are "Holy shit," which makes Dean laugh.
"I take it you enjoyed yourself then?"
Summoning his strength, Cas slowly looks up at him. "Dean, that was…it was…I can't even…" he struggles for words, and Dean chuckles.
"I know what you mean. I'm glad. Are you feeling alright? I know it was intense. I may have gotten a little carried away, but it was so amazing to watch you."
"Feel amazing," Cas mumbles into his chest, letting himself fall limp and be supported by Dean's body. "Can't believe I really did that."
"I'm proud of you," Dean murmurs against his temple. "Is there anything you need me to do for you?"
Cas tenses, interpreting this as Dean trying to leave. "Stay?" he manages, almost a whimper.
"Of course I'll stay," Dean chuckles softly. "You're probably going to drop hard, especially since you haven't done this before. I won't let you deal with it alone. I was thinking more along the lines of making you comfortable."
"Oh." Cas thinks for a moment. "Can we just stay like this?"
"Of course," Dean assures him.
"Sleep?" he asks.
He feels Dean shift, and his hold tightens a little, then relaxes at the reassuring hand through his hair. "Not just yet. I need you to drink this first okay? It'll help." Cas is too exhausted to open his eyes long enough to see what this is, but he's sure, after everything Dean has done so far, that it's not going to harm him. Feeling the rim of a glass at his lips, he opens a little, grateful for the gentle hand at the back of his neck as Dean carefully tips the glass up. The sharp tang of citrus rushes over his tongue. Orange juice. He swallows when the glass lowers, sighing and nuzzling into Dean's chest. "Think you can drink a little more for me?" he asks gently. Instead of answering he parts his lips again, and Dean repeats the process until the glass is empty. A pleasant tingle runs through him at the murmured "Good boy," and the tightening of Dean's secure hold.
"Sleep now?" he asks.
Dean chuckles. "Yes, you can sleep now. I'll stay right here."
Against his better judgment, Cas decides to believe this, and he drifts off to sleep listening to the steady heartbeat under his cheek.
Please remember to review if you liked it! If some people like it I'll keep going with it, but you have to let me know!
Love,
TheSongSmith
