Title: Prison Prayer's
Rating: Explicit/Mature
Notes; I can't link on ff but it's provided on the tumblr post.
Castiel likes to think that he's a good officer. His record is exemplary and the change of pace has been doing him good. Being a prison guard isn't as exciting as racing down the street's of New York, but he's found himself some peace for his knees other entertainments.
With how transparent things are at a prison, at least among the inmates and guards, he'd figured that secrets would be impossible to keep. Or at least if people know they don't care. Prisoner's don't seem to treat him any different and his higher ups sure as hell haven't fired him so...
He takes his time strolling through the hallways. They're a pretty big facility with an interesting mix of crimes housed in it. For the most part he's not worried. He stays fit and as long as no one figures out that his lawyer older brother's are the ones responsible for the internment of most of these men? He'll be fine.
Well, one man did figure it out.
It turned out to be a lot better for him than he thought.
It's where he's going right now, making sure most of the people are asleep as he approaches the cell. It's a damn shame he's not in solitary today.
Castiel sometimes has trouble muffling himself. Permanent volume issues when he's overwhelmed.
He nods his head to the only one guard as an 'all ok' and walks back down the hallway, turning and marching to the last corridor at the back of the building. A small blessing.
He's hard by the time he makes it to the cell, his breathing shaky. Castiel's fingers tremble a little as he fumbles with the keys.
"You're late."
"Dean," Castiel says as he unlocks the door.
Dean Winchester.
There isn't much that Castiel actually knows about him. He's seen the tattoo's, so he assumes gang affiliation but hasn't had the courage to peek in the file. It's a lot easier to ignore the moral implications of what they'd doing if he doesn't know Dean's exact crimes. At least, he knows enough to not feel sick when Dean touches him.
Dean is spread out on his bunk, one leg crooked and his arm resting on it, the other leg stretched across. Castiel watches as Dean brings his hand down, palming at himself and smirking.
"Dean? We're being pretty informal today," Dean laughs, dropping his leg and shifting so that he's sitting at the edge of his bunk. "What happened to Winchester?"
Castiel blushes and turns away, ready to bolt. It always seems like a better idea when he's not in the cage with him. Trapped, albeit willingly so, but still trapped.
Dean stands up and walks across. His palm lands on Castiel's shoulder and he trails down until he's pulling the keys out of his hand and throwing them to the edge of the room.
Castiel's yet to figure out why Dean doesn't run. He ignores the weapons Cas stupidly carries with him when he visits. He's shown interest in the cuffs but never in the context of escape.
"Strip," Dean commands, stepping back and dropping back onto his bunk. He spreads his legs and pulls down his pants. A few moments later, with a spit slicked hand, he's working his cock to life. "Now Cas."
Castiel starts moving slowly, his body shaky as Dean's eyes roam over him. It's always like this. Dean makes him stand at the end of the cell and strip, one piece of clothing at a time. By the time he's down to his boxers his cheeks are red with shame, but if Dean wants to watch, Dean gets to watch.
"Turn around."
Castiel nods, turning as he pulls his off the last thing making him feel any sense of modesty.
"Lean over."
The bars are cold against his hands as he bends, spreading his legs without being asked. This part, is their usual too.
"Did you do it?" Dean asks with a groan, gripping himself tighter.
Castiel can't speak. Instead he reaches one hand back and runs it along his ass cheek. He pauses before venturing further, spreading his ass and sliding a finger in easily. He'd come prepped and ready.
"Fuck Cas," Dean whispers as he gets up. "Put your hands back on the bar," Dean snaps as he kneels. He places both hands on Castiel's ass and massages. He's gentle as he spreads Cas' cheeks again. He leans in and licks, chuckling darkly at the way Cas' lurches forward.
"On the bed."
Castiel scrambles to comply, his cock hard and his body begging for things to move forward faster. He's also grateful to be lying down. The stone walls to their sides may give them some decorum but the bars do nothing. At least the cell across from Dean's is empty and lying down no one can see just how desperate and flushed he is.
Dean strips his own clothes, before digging through Cas' discarded pants. He finds the condom and rolls it on.
"You ready?"
Castiel whines and flexes his body, shifting pull the pillow forward and sinking his teeth into it.
Dean laughs quietly before climbing behind him on the bed. He leaves feather light kisses from Cas' neck all the way down to his lower back before getting ready.
He doesn't warn Cas. There's no signal or extensive communication. He simply slips a finger in to Cas' entrance and lines himself up, using his finger as a guide to press himself in. It makes it faster.
Dean groans, not worried about his own noises, as he pushes in, the head slipping in slowly. He stops to listen to Cas whine and pulls out a little again. There's something about that first feeling of being engulfed that almost beats being completely buried in him.
"Please," comes a tiny, shaky whimper from underneath him.
"Please what?" Dean asks, leaning down and sinking further into Cas as he does.
"That-yes-oh god, that," Castiel whispers, hurried and frantic. They don't have much time and he's been waiting for this all week. It's been busy.
Dean contemplates making Cas wait, teasing him longer, but to be honest he's had a pretty long week too. Nagging brothers and a run in with a few other inmates had left him frustrated. He hadn't fought back, hadn't made the situation worse. There was no way he was doing solitary this week. Not when he knew just how red, just how wanton, Cas actually turned when they fucked in his cell.
"All right," Dean whispers, shifting up a little. His muscles flex and tense as he reaches over to grab the bar.
Again there's no warning. Castiel can't help but cry out, hands flying to his sides to grip at the sheets as his mouth drops open. Dean laughs as he pulls back, breath shaky as he fucks into Cas. "God you feel good," Dean moans, lifting enough so that he can glance down to see his cock working in and out of Cas. "Tight and wet, fuck. Did you think about me?" Dean grips the metal bars tighter, slamming down into Castiel. It punches out a pleased groan from him. "Did you think about me when you spread yourself open?"
"Yes," Cas whimpers, trying desperately to figure out what to do with his body. He wants to grind down to relieve the pressure on his cock, but his hips keeps snapping up, trying to chase Dean's cock every time he pulls back. There's no winning. Dean shifts a little and Castiel's hand flies back, clutching at Dean's side to keep him from moving to soon. It's too much. The sweat already gathering makes his palm slip down to Dean's ass.
Dean of course ignores him, keeping up the relentless pace that has Castiel nearly sobbing into the pillow.
"You're being awfully loud tonight," Dean whispers, breath coming out in harsh pants. His shoulders ache a little, there's blood roaring in his ears, but it's worth it. So worth it. "You'd think you want somebody to find us?"
Castiel whines again, his grip tightening.
Dean laughs, leaning down to bite and nibble at Cas' ear and neck. "I think you really do, fuck, if I'd known that I would've made you stand at the front of the cell. Cock peeking through the bars, make you come like that, where everyone can see."
"No-not," Castiel tries but has to stop his sentence short as another loud groan climbs up his throat. He digs his teeth into the pillow and tries to breathe deeply. It doesn't help. His body is on fire, he feels full and raw. Every thrust has him shaking more and more and fuck-if Dean doesn't stop soon- if Dean doesn't let him-
"Can't- too much," Castiel whispers into the spit stained cloth. He can't afford to be any louder or he may really wake the entire cell block.
"Just a little longer baby," Dean grunts out, his back is burning and his legs are shaking, but he needs just a little longer. Just a little more- just one more fucking- "You can come," Dean commands, sweat sliding down and gathering at the small of his back.
"Thank you," Castiel whines, lifting his ass up into Dean's thrust, propping himself up a little with one arm so that he can reach the other under him. His fingers slide through the precome first, thumb swiping across the soft head. Castiel gasps as he takes his cock fully into his hand and squeezes.
Dean's lucky and Cas forgets to bite back down on the pillow when he comes, sobbing out his name. He can swear it echoes across the otherwise silent cellblock.
"Fuck," Dean whispers, letting go of the bar and leaning back, shallowly thrusting back in. "Fuck yes." Dean comes, half buried in Cas. He trembles as Cas tightens around him, milking out everything Dean's got to give.
"Wish I could make you walk around with that," Dean says, gently rubbing his fingers down Cas' back, to his rim and then stroking along his own softening cock. "Keep my come in you. Make you mine."
"I don't see how that-" Castiel gasps as Dean moves back. He feels empty. "-that makes any sense."
"Let a guy have his fantasies," Dean grunts, sitting down, back against the wall to catch his breath.
"If you say so."
Dean slaps his ass in response. Castiel let's out a surprised, embarrassed noise and turns bright red.
"I say so."
A/N; I really have no good excuse for this. I really don't. [/hides in shame] I just couldn't help it, muse said "you should write some smut for this" and I obeyed. [/I can only re-read it so many times to proof-read before I get super shy about it.] I was just going through my likes and oh god.